Origami Narwhal

The Puzzle Box - 2.8

A/N: Nar here. Please comment with your favorite potato-based recipes, I'm starting to run out of ideas for Ivy's snacking habits.
Craumont lives and grows, as all cities do. For every familiar landmark, there's ten new faces around it— and I feel it keenly here, in this pla...

The Puzzle Box - 2.7

Helena lied. An oily, bitter realization— one that I drink down like poisoned wine.

It's not Helena herself that's a problem, no. Instead, it's that someone lied at all. Another layer to the investigation, another barrier, and another motive, I'd wager. I swirl those thoughts lik...

The Puzzle Box - 2.6

Knock, knock.

My scaled knuckles rap against the door to the rectory. It's a new sound, and a new experience— Ivy Crawford, willfully entering the Church rectory, led by nobody and recovering nothing. And for polite conversation, no less.

Well, it might be polite, and maybe...

The Puzzle Box - 2.5

I don't stop at the bakery. I skip past the theater, even though it’s playing my favorite part of the Epic of the Hero. A thought becomes a mystery becomes curiosity, and it gnaws at me incessantly:

Why is that damned puzzle box important? Why did it need to be in a vault, w...

The Puzzle Box - 2.4

Between a rock and a hard place. Helena Harkness, still rustling through her bag and running a hand through her hair. Gelson, and the obligations I’d let myself get wrapped up in for some reason. I can’t blame the detective— I think I’m done with this, too.

Oh, for the love of Adama...

The Puzzle Box - 2.3

The detective's name is Ruby Gelson, and she's added enough honey to her tea to make my teeth ache.

She's practically drowning in the chair she's chosen; a chair sized for my father rather than folk that could walk through doors without stooping. Her curly black hair looks well-kept, and he...

The Puzzle Box - 2.2

“I’ll get straight to the point, everyone,” a sandy voice cuts across the room, accompanied by the thud of a swinging door. “There’s been a robbery, and I'll need your testimonies.”

A woman with dark, curly hair strides out, black boots clicking against the floor. ...

The Puzzle Box - 2.1

Rapidly rising from a Delve depth of five hundred marches is, by most accounts from Mages, a dumb idea. The first two hundred aren’t so bad, but rising from anywhere deeper causes pockets of compressed magic to expand inside the soul and body, tearing at the fringes of the self in...

TDoC Patreon Setup

Hello everyone, and welcome to my Patreon!

Thanks for supporting me, really. It's... a lot, and greatly appreciated. Expect ~3 advance chapters, and be aware that they are going to be less polished than release chapters. I tend to do multiple stages of refinement, so don't be afraid to ask ...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.15

Harriet says nothing. The guests stare. Elizabeth’s eyebrows shoot up, and I can see shock flicker across her features before she quashes it.

“Alain,” Winston says warningly, drawing closer. “Don’t make me throw you out.”

“What?” I say, before I can stop myself. So whe...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.14

There is politics to seating arrangements. A technique, a tradition, and some other t-word, all of it drilled into noble heads to ensure that nobody has any fun at any meal, ever.

Truthfully, that was always Olivia's thing. I don't remember a lick of it, but even I know that putting me at W...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.13

“Amelia Ivy Crawford.” A soft voice drawls, emphasizing each word as if it was new. Or, perhaps, old and forgotten. “As I live and dream.”

A shadow crosses the warm light pouring from the door, cutting it in half and leaving me in the dark. Drawn from my thoughts, I look up, past th...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.12

I’ll take the long way back to the Manor.

I wander those back alleys, eyes scraping on the stark shadows left by the afternoon light. I breathe in the calm air of those tiny parks that dot the city.

Gods, I get myself a bit lost, as lost as I can get in a city that was once home.&nb...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.11

The Delve pressure eases gradually as we move, like we're rising through water. It'll continue to lighten as we go, and it won't take more than ten minutes before we're out of here completely.

Which is great, because I am very ready to get out of here. If Winston asks for me to guide her ag...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.10

Maybe it's more obvious to me than it is to someone without the senses of a Mageblood. Helena's got magic, sure, so she counts as one by technicality, but it hasn't changed her yet. She can't move the way I do, or control magic with the same ease as breathing.

But, Gods, if I'm not screamin...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.9

I think I like autumn here better, but that doesn’t come as a surprise. The brisk wind, the brilliant leaves, the odd scent that comes with it; it’s all perfect. Watching the world prepare itself for winter, preparing for inevitable rebirth and change in a way countless poems try to capture.....

The Drake of Craumont - 1.8

Stone, brass, and broken glass give way to bark, soil, and spotted shadows. The window exits between two tall pines at the edge of a grassy glade, and I reach back into the chapel to pull Helena through.

Her fingers latch onto my arm, hands curling around like I'm a particularly thick piece...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.7

A muddled blur of white, pink, and grey screams down from the flock overhead, its gleaming beak making it more javelin than bird. The flock follows in ones and twos, unspooling like a chain following its anchor into the sea.

“They’re diving!” Helena calls out from somewhere behind me....

The Drake of Craumont - 1.6

The abyssal shock of a Delve washes over me in a roiling golden fog. It digs at my skin, my scales, my soul, scraping away the World like bits of dried mud. For a heartbeat, I am laid bare before the fog, raw like healing skin and fragile like fresh scales.

My foot finds purchase on solid g...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.5

"I never did thank you, did I? For agreeing."

I grunt, eyes still trained on the portal. One hand is curled through it, my skin melding to scales as the fingers dip around the impossible fringe of the World, and the other is trying to find where the tear ends and the World begins again. I'm...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.4

Feathers, fangs, claws, and horns. Not a single Drake in sight, and certainly not a scaled person of any other variety to be found among the Magebloods here. Maybe I shouldn’t be spending so much time looking as I pick my way through progressively grimier alleys and scraggly little parks. The o...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.3

Craumont, in my opinion, is much prettier under the sunlight. The nighttime view is just a chaotic scattering of light and smoke.

But it really is pretty, during the day. The buildings lining the main streets are decorated wonderfully. Stone and brick isn't terribly interesting to look at, ...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.2

I wake to the tocking of a tall shadow in a pitch-dark corner, rhythmically breaking the murky silence. The old Elm Clock, dragged in from the hallway when I was no more than six years old.

Thick curtains glow silver at the fringes, spilling white light across a faded carpet. It’s the onl...

The Drake of Craumont - 1.1

A cold, hard edge is at my throat a heartbeat faster than I can duck away. I can’t look down to see it clearly, but I can feel how it catches and tugs at the collar of my blouse.

“Let’s make this easy, pretty lady.”

Tsk. They’d snuck up from behind far too easily. I’ll tak...