Kelson Hayes
Bio
Kelson Hayes is a British-American author and philosopher, born on 19 October 1994 in Bedford, England. His books include Can You Hear The Awful Singing, The Art of Not Thinking, and The Aerbon Series.
Achievements (1)
Stories (38/0)
A Spring To Action
CALAIS, LEGION Winter 1E78 "Alright, you all know the plan. Mathias will accompany us from a distance whilst Robin and I make our move to depart from here to my contact in France. Once we're through the checkpoint and on our way, Mathias will give the signal. If anyone has any questions regarding the plan or their roles, this is the final chance to voice any concerns. Once we depart from this house, the plan is in motion and there is to be no deterrence- however slight. Is that understood?" Edwin spoke up. He'd returned to Calais a couple days previously from his northern travels, having spent the time gathering and preparing the imperial insurrectionists for what was soon to pass.
By Kelson Hayes2 years ago in Fiction
Insurrection
CALAIS, LEGION Autumn, 1E78 All Legion houses were built in the same fashion, generally leaving one with three basic options when purchasing a place. The upper-class aristocrats bought three-story townhouses whilst the lower-class workers rented single floors of the very same townhouses broken into flats. Merchants, however, found themselves in a middle-ground, sometimes buying two-floor homes, such as the one Robin presently found himself facing. The aristocratic homes were painted in lavish colours and the windows often overlooked beautiful gardens past the thick velvet curtains that decorated them whilst blocks of flats were plain coloured and with shared backgardens. Edwin and his neighbour's houses were more basic however, though still more decadent than the lower-class cottages and blocks of flats of the poor. The houses were built alongside each other as was the style of Legion towns and they lined the street in rows.
By Kelson Hayes2 years ago in Fiction
The Elder Council
FAEN, AENOR Winter, 1E72 "We are gathered here today in light of the cradle snatchings that have been occurring consistently the past few months. I beseech of all those with something to say on the matter or facts and evidence to present to please step forward now, so that we might convene. It is the objective of this meeting to hear all that is presently known on the matter so that it might be relayed to the Elder Council where decisions can be made in how to deal with the matter." the Elder Chieftain of Faen spoke up, addressing all those present at the town meeting. His silver hair flowed over a light earthy-coloured robe, and though he was old it was in a timeless sense, only notable in his gaze that showed their experience.
By Kelson Hayes2 years ago in Fiction
A Message In The Night
Robin rolled himself a spliff in the warmth of his tent. It was a cool autumn night and he awaited his son expectantly. It had been a week now and his son would be home soon. The spliff had started to trail and so he fixed it by wetting the tip of his finger and running it along the paper around the lit cherry. The spittle sizzled as he continued to puff on the zoot and it corrected itself after a few more drags. The pungent aroma of cannabis filled the tent and he hot-boxed the small quarters of his provisional residence. He heard the sound of hurried feet outside and rushed out to meet his son; instead he found Edwin, much to his confusion.
By Kelson Hayes2 years ago in Fiction
The Northern Wars
OLENOR, AHGLOR Autumn, 1E78 Niko planted seeds in a series of clumps after the first frost of Winter in early Spring with the help of his father, Robin. Each of the fifteen cannabis patches they planted consisted of between five to ten clumps of anywhere from twenty to fifty sprouting plants. They would check their crop later in the Summer for males, uprooting them where they would pollinate the crop if left unchecked. Once the males were all removed from the ground and disposed of, there were fifteen patches and a good number of clumps with anywhere from seven to forty plants, though the reduction of males had significantly lowered the amount of crops in some clumps more than others. Of all the weed that they had in the hilly woodlands of their home, it was all doing exceptionally well and the stalks were all thick with bud. They would harvest several kilograms from their plants, Robin told his maturing son- the excess of which they would take to the elves in Autumn. Once again Niko excitedly pleaded with his father to let him make the trip to Aenor that year, and Robin told him that they would see.
By Kelson Hayes3 years ago in Fiction
The Northern Wars
“Move it along peasants.” one of the soldiers shouted as he pushed another tribal down the line. The morning had been rather hectic at the border checkpoint as it always was on the days they shipped their prisoners to the capitol. The loading of the prisoners had gone off without a hitch and the soldiers opened up the borders the following day- everything continued on as per the new norm in the imperial-occupied town. Ahglorian fur traders were lined up on both sides of the border, either to travel into Legion to sell their fur or to return home with their pockets full of fully-taxable gold, waiting to declare themselves at the checkpoint. Occasionally smugglers were found and their illegal contents were confiscated to be sent to the capitol as evidence against them on trial before the King, and sometimes a ruffian would be apprehended, usually some young thief or tribal who got too cocky before the Imperial Legionaries.
By Kelson Hayes3 years ago in Fiction
The Northern Wars
THE NORTH SEA Winter, 1E77 Elvish longboats cut through the foggy mists of the night along the still icy waters of the North Sea. The boats sailed from the port town of Arden on the coast of the Aryan Forest in Eastern Aenor, carrying scouts and explorers east across the channel towards the mysterious lands swathed in fog upon the horizon. The exploration party had been arranged and sent by the people of Aenor in a unanimous decision. The Elder Council, made up of the major chiefs of the land, had convened by the order of the Great Chieftain after hundreds of reports of missing elves and cradle-snatchings in the night. A body had washed up to shore one morning and the rumours began to spread of dark things in the eastern land over the water and of creatures snatching elves up in the night and dragging them to their watery graves or worse things. The elves of Arden were suspicious of the eastern shore and the Elder Council gathered up the willing for a voyage east to scout out and survey the foreign land.
By Kelson Hayes3 years ago in Fiction
The Northern Wars
CALAIS, LEGION Winter, 1E77 The bell jingled as Robin opened the door to the butcher's shop- after a moment the butcher appeared at the counter from where he had been preoccupied the back room. Robin tossed his sack on top of the counter and poured the meats out onto the tabletop surface. They greeted one another and made some small talk; the butcher had a child on the way and Robin told the butcher news from the North. The butcher offered five gold coins for the lot upon taking a moment to weigh and examine the goods, but Robin was gob-smacked.
By Kelson Hayes3 years ago in Fiction
The Northern Wars
FAEN, AEN Autumn, 1E72 There was a light mist in the air as cool autumn rain sprinkled down on the elvish town of Faen. The sun was setting beyond the Aryan Forest that comprised their nation of Aenor, sinking on the horizon of the Aerbonean Ocean off the coast of Legion some hundreds of leagues away to the west. Sendarin guided his boat back to shore as the evening closed in upon him. He would tie it off at one of the posts that served as the town's makeshift dock so that the tide didn't carry it out to sea, rowing his ways towards the elvish longboats that lined Faen's shore. He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the beach and took his boat to rest with its fellows after a long and peaceful day of fishing.
By Kelson Hayes3 years ago in Filthy
The Northern Wars
DUNKIRK, LEGION Summer, 1E78 Entering the Imperial Arms, Jean and Pierre took a moment to look around the pub from where they stood upon its threshold. Three imperial knights of the King's Legion sat around a squat round table, designed to seat four. Each man sipped at their pint, engaged in what seemed like a casual conversation between friends. Nearby a mercenary sat at the tavern's bar beside a travelling merchant where they spoke together amongst themselves of the troubles in Aenor. The mercenary was preparing to depart from Dunkirk to accept an expedition contract in Aenor to scout out the Eastern Shore from what they could overhear as they approached the bar. The pay was decent- just the typical exploration voyage, the mercenary explained.
By Kelson Hayes3 years ago in Fiction
The Northern Wars
LYONS Autumn It was a quiet evening in the imperial farmlands of southern Legion as the early onset of the dark drew the day to a close. The weather was fairly warm for an Autumn night, even in the mild Aerbonean midlands where the rural farming town of Lyons rested north of the Svanean-Legion border. Summer had just passed a few weeks before, though one would be hard-pressed to tell the difference in the southern climate. Jean found himself locked in a heated discussion with his older brother, Pierre, as they argued furiously in the dark of their room. They spoke in hushed tones back and forth within the comfort of their family’s cottage- sharing a room between the pair of them. The family home was no more than a small two bedroom cottage that they lived in with their mother and father. The brothers were the sons of a poor cattle farmer who was swamped in debt to the king of those lands, King Louis IV; the fourth King of the line of Louis Delaunay, founder of the Kingdom of Legion.
By Kelson Hayes3 years ago in Fiction