Reiter's Ramble

Writing Prompt Inspired – Death and the Stopped Hourglasses

This is inspired by a writing prompt found on Reddit, here.

” For centuries you’ve reaped humans when their time was up, never paying attention to their advancements in tech and healthcare, then one day every single hourglass just stops. “


I looked about, my eyes blinking in disbelief. I stood right near the Space Needle, looking around, and the sands had stopped for everyone. I held my ticket in my hand– I was intent on going up the Space Needle, but I looked around in disbelief.

“You’ve done it, my child,” the woman’s voice spoke. Goosebumps had risen over my skin, it had been ages.

A Demon Stopped By My Apartment

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” the demon said, coming into my door. “I’ve been stopping by for quite some time. I didn’t think you’d let me in.”

I eyed him quietly. He looked like someone I wouldn’t trust, someone that’d hold me back. But he looked normal. Looked like I would pass him on the street. He was wearing a button up shirt and some denim jeans and dress shoes. A bit upscale, but still casual. Business casual.

“Care for a drink?” I said, gesturing him inside and closing the door behind him. I pointed towards the sofa, inviting him in. His eyebrows rose, surprised at the hospitality.

“Sure,” he said. “Mead?”

“Of course,” I said. “I always treat my guests with the best of what I have. It is my hospitality.”

Wrought Iron, Chapter Fifteen

Between the dim light that came in through the stained glass, the green jars that had been left about for procuring solutions, and the plants that were in the room, the small and round area proved to be a cozy, emerald-themed place. Along one wall was a bookshelf that was lined with many articles regarding the apothecary skillset. Along one wall, where there were some narrow beakers and his sword stood against it, Sigi worked on milling a few things. After a few moments he produced the ring from his pocket, rubbing a clean white linen cloth along the outside of it lightly.

Wrought Iron, Chapter Fourteen

After corralling his men (and Thom’s lady), the group headed down to the dining hall, where Lord Talgret was hosting them. Clearly refreshed from the afternoon’s relaxation, the air about them bore a newfound energy. Eventually they reached the grand hall after traversing the keep with Solnos guiding them for a little over five minutes. Despite his casual clothing, Sigi still had his sword strapped to his back. Earlier, this caused Thom some hesitation, and much to his wife’s reluctance, he wore the breastplate to dinner.

Wrought Iron, Chapter Thirteen

Lord Talgret was barely eclipsing his forties. His brown, short kept beard and long dark-brown hair was almost picturesque in how it was kept. He stood a little over six feet tall, his chiseled jaw matching how his frame was kept over the years, a few scars adorning his neck. Aside from a missing pinky on his right hand, he was well groomed. He sat in his quarter at a desk, wearing pants, boots and a light linen shirt while he looked over some parchments containing dispatches from the troops under his command. Before long, there was a pounding at his door.

Wrought Iron, Chapter Twelve

The cool night against the moon-lit snow helped the dark riders alongside Sigi feel stoic. Though the road was clear, the snow on the sides of it had piled up in their absence, sometimes garnering a foot in depth. Within a few hours, they’d once again be outside of the lands of Rothgard, and within a day, they’d be at Lord Talgret’s borders. The crisp night air of the forest had a different sense of urgency tonight. It wrapped around the men, refusing to resist them because even it knew of the precious time they had to begin a counter-momentum against that which was slowly consuming the land they knew. It too, wished for them, and the others like them, to survive.

Wrought Iron, Chapter Eleven

As Sigi walked towards the keep, the village took care of things to be tended at the bonfire tonight. Now that the remaining men had returned home, many of whom had served under Rothgard’s hand for decades, the funeral pyre and processions could proceed that evening. Sigi kept his eyes forward, determined. He had not lost several men to the Goron to return and find his promised fund depleted before him. He knew that if the council seized the house assets, he would surely be delayed from an army. He would have to go elsewhere to seek it, and by that time, the Goron could already be on top of the southern kingdoms.

Wrought Iron, Chapter Ten

The wind had settled down in the hours following the fight, allowing for a clear view of the stars that dotted the northern horizon. Just barely, one would be able to tell that there was a constant hue from the north, where the sun shone longer. Sigi’s attention stayed towards it, watching as the fires had died out over time. The men were exhausted, and not as battle-weary as other compatriots he had rode with before. It was just as well, he thought. The days ahead would become long, and the fight within them longer.