15 Works by Cipheraholic
Listing Works
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Eventually the sun began to make its dip towards the horizon and we went back inside. I welcomed the cool air but my skin quickly began to feel far too cold while all the rest of me felt far too warm.
“Dear, do you feel well?” Pure Vanilla asked, taking my hand. “You look pale.”
I gave him a smile, drawing his hand up to my lips and placing a small kiss on his knuckles. “Yes, I'm alright. Just tired.”
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”Okay, but wake me up if you need anything.”
“I will,” he assured, kissing my cheek in return and settling onto my chest. “Sleep well, I love you.”
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”Who is it?” Odysseus called.
”Eurylochus, sir,” I answered.
”Come in,” he said, and I obliged as I took note of how annoyed and tired he sounded.
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”I’m getting water, I’ll only be a moment,” I assured, moving his bangs away from his forehead so I could kiss it before grabbing my empty water glass and going to the bathroom to fill it.
Suddenly, I heard screaming.
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“Rough day?” I asked, reciprocating his embrace.
Wind Archer nodded.
“Wanna talk about it?”
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I sat down at my desk, pulling the secret diary I had stuffed in a drawer. Now was the perfect time to write, Yatta and Blot shouldn’t be back till even later at night than it is now. They had to go on a run I wasn’t needed for. No one would know aside from me and the dozens of previous ink stained pages in the small book.
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Salt of Solidarity has been acting. . . Off recently. . . I thought to myself, watching my boyfriend. He had been even quieter than usual and seemed uncomfortable whenever I glanced at him. I considered asking him what was wrong but I didn’t want to pry so I didn’t, hoping he would come to me if whatever was bothering him became too much.
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The moment I opened the door I watched my mother's eyes notice my battered face, slowly trailing to my bruised arms and legs. I tried to stand up straight and not shake but I'm pretty sure she noticed.
She immediately got up from her stool, abandoning her tapestry, and closed the door.
“Which one of them did this?”
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The aftermath of the fight with Antinous
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“Be careful,” Wildberry said. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I returned, standing on my toes to give him a peck on the cheek. “We will.”
With that we all set out to scout the mountains for dangers.
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I was woken in the middle of the night to a sudden flash of light followed by a reverberating rumbling.
I knew my husband would wake up in a panic and be unable to sleep. To see Odysseus in such a state was like a dagger to my heart.
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It had been a week since the Salt of Solidarity had arrived in the Faerie kingdom to aid in growing the Silver Tree and on that fateful seventh day, the salt woke up with a churning stomach, bleary vision, and a sheen of sweat.
Despite knowing he was likely sick, he adorned his armor anyways and went to find Elder Faerie, grateful his armor hid most indicators he was falling ill.
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“Not much happened today,” I said. “Today was mostly paperwork, although Silverbell was quite the joke maker during lunch today. I believe you would’ve liked his jokes, I’m sorry I don’t remember much of them, my dear.”
The leaves of the tree swayed as if in response.
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”This place isn’t as messy as I thought it would be with your primitive styles. There’s not even paint splattered anywhere,” Brusha commented.
Before Courtney or I could say something, Goob said with a smile, “Don’t worry! That just means there’s less to do! And our styles are just different. Scraps and I like crafts with lots of textures and you like paint and canvases!”
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I wrapped my chest in the bandages so tight I could barely breathe before looking at myself in the mirror in disgust. I slowly turned from side to side, criticizing the bruises on my rib cage, considering redoing my binding even tighter but I was already feeling light headed so I slipped my robes on before emerging to do whatever needed to be done today.
All I needed to do was go through the motions. That’s all there was right now. Assuming a specific jester would be merciful today.
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“Sir, please sleep,” he began. “It's been-”
“Eight days,” I finished for him. “I am aware.”
“Nine days,” he corrected.