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A new chapter will be published every 2 weeks starting on 19/07/2022.

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Time on My Hands

Chapter 64: 430-432 CE: Patrick and the Invasion of Ireland

The Clan Corvo did their best to stay out of the turmoil surging through the Roman Empire. Barmaz continued accepting refugees. The immediate family of a refugee were kept together and expected to adapt to Clan Corvo mores. Those who did not were counseled with expectations explained. If they still refused to be assimilated they were given a choice, expelled back across the border or to the far colonies. The Clan Corvo believed if the situation where you lived was so bad you fled, it was common sense you would not be allowed to recreate what you fled in Barmaz.

Stuck in a Rut.
By Rosalie Redd

Casey Church is a normal 13 year old boy, full of hopes and dreams and fears and anxieties. But in a world where there hasn’t been a girl born in over a century, what is normal?

Chapter 8.

“Come on Angela,” I grinned. “Like…just make me do your dishes or something.”

“God dammit Steve,” She rolled her eyes at me, brushing her auburn hair away from her face and shaking her head. “I told you, I’m not into the whole bondage thing, okay? Just drop it.”

“That’s a load of crap,” I laughed. “I found that ball gag in your closest.”

“What were you doing in my closet, perv?” She raised an eyebrow. “and yes, I have a ball gag, doesn’t mean I’m going to start dominating you or whatever.”

The first period was oddly peaceful. Nobody really seemed to bother me much. The second period a few people made passing comments about what happened. Those comments passed over my head, the third period, was when I caught hell. Hell as in my whole world seemed to fall apart. I’d been feeling on edge all morning, and my fight with my sister on the way to school had been bothering me all day. But halfway through my history lesson, my head felt heavy and I felt very weak all of a sudden. I soldiered on though.

“Would you mind letting me pull?” Agathar growled to me over voice chat as we crouched behind a low palisade wall, staring off into an orc encampment. We’d walked for hours to get here, and it hadn’t been easy at all. The problem with crossing the wastes was the lack of a bind stone. There was one at the beginning of the zone and one just beyond the encampment we were standing in front of. Other than that, if we died, we would be whisked away, back to the beginning of the zone where we’d started. That was kind of a good incentive to stay alive.