Table Scraps #1: The Unmoored

I don't know about you all, but I got a couple pages of drafts sitting in my Vocal stories, and they've been sitting there for varying lengths of time...some even for multiple years.

It can get frustrating to have to keep looking at these drafts and being unable or uninterested in finishing them. It's kinda like trying to punch concrete. It's not going to mold into any shape because the material simply won't budge.

So I decided to try to breathe some new life into them by starting this series I'm calling "Table Scraps" where I share my old, unfinished drafts that I'm struggling to finish or don't see myself finishing. I will try to theme them like this one so it at least feels cohesive!

This first Table Scraps is going to focus on some worldbuilding for my Fate of Fire series. I have my own version of "zombies" called the unmoored, who are souls who were not put to rest properly ( not burned ) and instead have had their afterlives hijacked by local deities, changing their appearance to match whoever consumed their soul. This phenomena only occurs in one location in the world because it is packed with these otherworldly beings who crave souls. Super fun, right?

So, enough of me yapping. Please enjoy these short, unfinished pieces about the unmoored!

Draft #1: Unmoored

It was a blizzard unlike any Itzala Blackmore had seen before. A total white-out where every flurry cut deep into the exposed parts of her skin and every blast of wind tried to choke her. The air before her was thick and alive in its fury. She stretched a hand out through the storm but couldn't cast a shadow or paint an outline on the endless white.

Gritting her teeth, she looked over her shoulder where her companion, Ethuran, fought for every step through knee deep snow. A thick hood covered his copper hair and a scarf enclosed his mouth, nose and chin, but the piercing blue of his eyes still shown through the chaos.

She shouted at him over the howling of the wind. "You okay?"

"Fine!" His voice was strong - still energized despite the few hours of this blizzard they'd endured so far. "We should be at the settlement soon?" The question was shouted in such a manner that it felt less like an inquiry and more like a hopeful prayer.

Itzala turned her head back around and peered forward. Ethuran was right, they should be there at any moment; the fur traders settlement they had been sent out here to find.

And yes, there, like ghostly whispers through the storm, the telltale makeshift stake walls and dampened torches blinked like lights in the white.

"We're here!" Itzala shouted, pushing herself harder through the freezing downpour, her breaths escaping in puffs of steaming smoke.

They passed through the entryway which usually would have warriors posted to keep away unwanted guests who would steel from the traders. It wasn't alarming upon first glance, but when Itzala pushed beyond the wooden stakes of the outer wall, what she found froze her deeper than any frostbite the storm around them could inflict.

Bodies scattered everywhere. Dozens of them. Many were half buried in snow, while others were more exposed where they had fallen next to the wall, or where tent overhangs kept them sheltered from the storm.

"By the realms..."

Ethuran trudged up beside Itzala, lowering his face scarf with an alarmed expression on his face. "Some look like they've been torn into...but this is too many for a wolf pack to take down."

Itzala nodded her agreement, her eyes swiveling from body to body, taking in the clues and details for what might have transpired here.

"Can you sense any life?" Ethuran asked, pushing through a foot of snow to the closest half buried body. He crouched down, gloves on, and touched the dead man's face.

Itzala closed her eyes and breathed in deep, sending that inner fire out into the world with careful caution. Every body before her was cold; no answering fire or light responding to her prodding. Then, further beyond the wall, there were more snuffed out lights. But the ones outside felt different.

"Ethuran, there's movement outside. No sign of life."

Ethuran paused his examination of the body and stood, calmly freeing his longbow from around his torso and beginning to count his arrows in a pouch at his hip. "Is it unmoored?"

Itzala freed her own weapons - a pair of large hand axes, from their holsters at her hips. "Feels like it. We will have to be quick with the ones outside. These bodies are already old. They will be turning soon."

Ethuran nodded to Itzala, no fear in his expression. "Fire, then?"

Itzala smirked, coaxing that fire within - her cursed soul - to burn. A faint shrieking sound, like birds being startled out of the trees, signaled the green flames forcing themselves out of her body and covering both of her axes.

"Of course. They won't stand a chance."

This story is at least two years old, maybe three? I started writing it for one of Kenny Penn's scary story contests, but never could get it finished. It's the first time I've properly put these two characters in a story of their own, rather than through mentions or poems on Vocal. This one out of the unmoored drafts feels the most likely to be finished in the future.

Draft #2: To You of Living Flesh, from the journal of an unmoored

Rotting half buried in a stone tomb of the unburned dead, a half-scribbled parchment awaits to be read.

The Blackmore Clan are cowards; unfit to be considered a warrior clan, let alone a founder of the Valley Congregation. A child was killed on their watch! An innocent life deemed unsubstantial before their heretical views. They think the rest of us care if the child's mother was one of the Bǫlvanir? Bah! Those cursed people no longer have the power to threaten us, and even if they did, killing a child goes too far.

So now we wait along their border preparing for war, and they dare hide themselves from our wrath. The other clans will not stand for this! I, as a warrior - one who has taken the nafnfesti - cannot abide by this. So we will wait with spear and shield in hand until these child murderers reveal themselves.

_______________

It's been several hours now. The sun has set, and those Blackmore scum have yet to come defend themselves. I look to my chieftain, but they have not given the order for invasion. Something is off about their expression - their eyes dart into the heavy shadows of the Blackmore Clan's trees, and their hand shakes upon the handle of their spear. Whispers are stirring among the ranks about an ancient burial ground not far from here that has been disturbed by the Blackmores.

This one pangs me, as it was such a spur of the moment inspiration and I really loved the idea of diving into inter-clan conflicts with the wild card of the unmoored getting involved. All the worldbuilding in this short scrap is really great too. Fate of Fire is a massive project and world, so anytime I can bring these concepts to life I'm going to take it!

Sadly, the interest just dropped, and I haven't really had much of an idea of how to write it out and finish it. I know the unmoored are gonna surprise the warriors here, but I have no idea how or why. I'm very picky when it comes to my worldbuilding logic. xD

All for now!

Yep, that's about it! (: I'll link relevant pieces below for any interested in this world. Several Fate of Fire short stories are behind a paid subscription, as I believe they deserve that distinction given how much work I've poured into the world and these characters.

If you want to read them all, consider the $2.99/month subscription to help support me. And do not fret if you wish to just make it a one time payment and cancel the subscription once you've read all you want! I understand how hard it is right now to stay afloat, so think of yourselves first!

Thank you for checking this out! Feedback is greatly appreciated, and I'll be sure to respond to any questions regarding the Fate of Fire world, so don't be shy!

ALSO, feel free to take this concept for yourself if you've been wanting to do something with those unfinished drafts, and don't forget to drop a link in the comments if you do! I'd love to read it!

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