<the rant about why this story is almost a day late>Boy, oh boy, was this story an insanity to work on. I was on the road yesterday, so my writing time and energy were less than half of my usual, and by the time I finished the first draft, it was 11 PM and 1221 … Continue reading FFM 2025 11: Conclusions

Beyari grinned as she sat down at her tablet and opened Kohar's message. The text section read, Bay, you gotta see this. She shook her head and played the video.

Something about Agent Ket's smirk set off alarm bells in Steirdrar's head but at this point it was too late to retreat. When they reached the loungeroom, the android he had briefly met yesterday looked up from the tablet in their hands, looking between the two with a blank expression. "Commander Urrang, meet my partner-in-hunting, QWERTY. QWERTY, meet Commander Steirdrar Urrang," Agent Ket introduced.

They were not called Night-Lights, back in the earliest days of Pryzis. They were Pryz'ozlen, masters of the gifts of the powers that be. They protected the Pryzis and Pryzia.

The first memory Beyari has is fear. Indistinct, blurred by a toddler's lack of comprehension. But she does remember the feeling of something dangerous watching her and what she would, at a later age and with better understanding, describe as a toddler's equivalent of "if I don't move or make a noise, the monster can't find me".

Had someone told Steirdrar last year that he would not only meet a warrior of the Eskel-Zai culture — a rarity this long into the war, many of the clans that had joined it having dwindled close to nothingness — but also become friends with them, he would have looked around to see who had dared this someone to present such an absurd claim to him.