Traveling Mercies Novels & Stories

Outside, the last stretch of scrubland gave way to the first real trees I'd seen since we left the capital, and something about their shape, ordinary and unremarkable, made the whole conversation feel a little more bearable. Mercy, driving, kept her eyes on the road but I could tell she was listening to every word, the same careful attention she gave everything that mattered. "Can I ask you something," she said. "Go ahead." "The mark. You said you can feel the crown the same way I can. Does it feel the same to you? Or different?"

“And what did she do this time, Mira?” I swallow hard, as the weight of it is nearly too much to carry alone. “She just donated billions to support the foundation.” “I don.. I don’t know what to say. Has she reached out yet?” “No not yet, I hope she finds the happiness she’s searching for,” “Seee.. told you you weren’t a monster. You have a kind heart Mira. I sure hope so too.” “I should go..” “Go where?” “Greece.. to go see her and…”

The Fleet Of Beast from Aeternum frequently visit Dukedom Of Merrica, they will send supplies 3 times a week and thanks to the Mercenary Company 'The Maidens' who used the same Fleets everywhere they go the Fleet of Beast, the beast they use also become well known for their tameness and gentle nature despite their fierce looks and angry growl, a lot of traveler and villager have experience of riding the beast as the Aeternum Super Store and The Maidens sometimes offer to give a ride to them as they were heading the same way. "Ohh that's right...I never rode that bulky one..but see that large one behind it?…I've rode it before as they were heading there from my village…it was quite comfy insi

Beside the frame sat a glass vase containing the single item the ocean had surrendered: the soot-stained crimson silk scarf. I stared at that photograph until my eyes burned, my chest trapped in a vise that tightened with every tick of the cathedral clock. I was dressed in a tailored black suit, but I felt like a corpse wrapped in wool. The dark gash across my forehead throbbed with a dull, constant ache beneath my dark hair, a bitter physical reminder of the fire that had consumed my life six days ago off the coast of Florida. The archbishop’s voice boomed softly through the vaulted arches, delivering a practiced, hollow sermon about grace, tragedy, and God’s mysterious plan.

Mercer said, his voice steady. He moved toward the window and stared outside for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “But I need to understand something about what happened out there. Your gift. Has this ever happened before? Have you ever been unable to read someone?” “Never,” I said quietly. “Scars is the first.” Mercer released a heavy breath and shook his head. “He’s full of surprises.” “Yeah, he is.” [That is the understatement of the century. This man has spent years making federal agencies look incompetent. Surprise is basically his personality.]

“A dear friend helped me, a minister who was on his way home to Preston. I wanted to seek your help. He took pity on my plight and let me ride with him.” “Why did you come to this kind of institution instead of to my home?” “The minister insisted this would be the safest place, Mercy.” “But Kat, why would a minister leave you in such a God-forsaken place?” “He says I have melancholy. Dr. McClain agrees.” Tears filled Mercedes’ eyes, but she forced herself to take control of her emotions. Her sister didn’t belong here, and Mercedes would not allow her to stay. She straightened her shoulders. “What do you want me to do? How can I get you out?”

The man was stronger than me, like a beast. “One day of being good, and then back to square one? It’s fun to mess with you, but you should know your limits.” “F—fuck you…… Ugh…… Ugh…….” “I was going to show you mercy if you behaved.” “…….” “You have to pay for trying to do something bad.” He grabbed the back of my neck and dragged me off the bed.

“Good. Then answer this— The mercy you’re asking from me… is it worth more than the one Mother gave you?” Her words crack something deep inside me. Mercy? When Mother cast me out, banished me before the tribe—was that mercy? The memory claws open again. Maybe it was. Maybe exile was her mercy. Nyvrae leans closer, voice cutting low. “Will your mercy restore our pride? Our honor? Our peace? Our land? Will it put Mother back on her feet?” The weight of it crushes me. My foolish heart—every breath I spent loving Varyn—turns to stone inside my chest. Every ecstasy, every promise, ashes.

"We're travelers, as I mentioned. We've learned to be prepared for various situations - illness, injuries, difficult weather. It's not uncommon for merchant families to carry basic healing supplies." "Especially when you have children or elderly relatives traveling with you," the man added. "Though in our case, it's more about being prepared for emergencies." I looked down at Sena, who had gone completely limp in my arms. Her breathing was shallow, and even unconscious, she seemed to be fighting waves of nausea. The practical part of my mind recognized that these strangers might be our best option for getting her the help she needed, but my instincts continued to whisper warnings about trust

And when he does, I’ll be ready. I pull back, cupping Mercy’s face in my hands and looking deep into her eyes. “I need you to promise me something, Mercy. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear or what anyone tells you, you stay the hell away from that woman and her people. You understand?” She nods, her bottom lip trembling slightly. I can see it in her eyes: she trusts me. She’s afraid, but she has faith in me. “Be careful,” she whispers.