It was the last option she had available. Trapped between a rock and a hard place, Tzezia could only go forward into the Shadow Forest, or stay and let herself be killed by the citizens of Keln.

Definite death or possible death. But in most cases, death. The Shadow Forest, sometimes called “Evil's Forest” or the “Murder Forest” was well known for being a place of no return. Sometimes people would be banished there, and it was rumored those who worshipped that dark god worshipped the forest too.

Even so, it was Tzezia’s only hope of escape. Maybe the beasts inside would be merciful. She knew what the Keln mages would do to her if they caught her. Death would be far slower

So Tzezia ran head first into the woods, dodging trees and only looking back when none of the people chasing her dared to follow.

She heard them laugh, saw them dust their hands together with shrugs, and turn back. To them, Tzezia was as good as dead.

The forest was silent. No birds called, no trees rustled. Her footsteps barely made a sound.

“Magic forest thing?”

An empty forest didn't kill. Not as much as this one did.

“Err, magic forest thing?”

Tzezia's voice wavered.

“Please don't kill me. I'm just passing through. I mean no harm.”

No response.

She kept walking. Deeper and deeper into the woods, it seemed like the sun didn't breach the treeline. The sky was still visible, but it was almost as if the forest was in eternal night.

Fingers crossed, toes scrunched, Tzezia tried to keep as silent as possible. Maybe she could live. It was a distant hope.

“Trespasser,” something suddenly whispered. The voice was smooth and deep, yet still soft.

“I-I'm sorry.”

“Trespasser,” it repeated.

Tzezia froze, slowly turning her head back and forth. No one was there but the shadows cast by the trees.

But it is dark. Why are they shadows?

“Come with me trespasser.”

The shadows reached out, almost human. Tendrils of dark, surprisingly solid, wrapped around her arms.

“Let us sort this out together, trespasser.”

There was no way to resist. Tzezia reluctantly nodded, wondering if this thing could see. She let the shadow gently pull her forward, pick her up and carry her through the woods.

Soon trees sped by as the shadow kept its iron grip.

“Here we are, trespasser.”

A large building of stone and metal. Tzezia felt it watch her, gaze through her and at her soul.

“Your new home, trespasser.”

A dungeon. That was the best comparison Tzezia had for the building and the endless rows of cells they passed. Many, she noted, were occupied by people wearing the same outfit.

The shadow placed her in one of those cells too, on the bed in the corner that she just melted into. She just barely noticed the desk, bookshelf, window, torch, and tapestry that also furnished the room.

Why is this so comfortable?

Is this how the forest kills me?

“You are clearly tired, trespasser. Rest, and tomorrow we shall discuss your future.”

Tzezia yawned. Only now on the bed did she feel tired. Maybe the adrenaline wore off.

Still, she was cognizant enough to mumble, “you're not going to kill me?”

“No, trespasser.”

The torch went out, and soon she was asleep. Inspired by this prompt here.

Part of The World of Shadow and Blood subseries.

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The Average Conspiracy Nobody Understands

“We're going out to dinner tonight Be ready in something nice!”

Endario groaned, shifting through her formal dresses.

Which one would look best? she wondered as she stared at herself in the mirror. Frankly, she didn't really care, but her family were all about putting on appearances, and she could already tell this dinner would be a show.

After all, her sister was coming, and Oren never disappointed.

Blue or red?

She bet her father would kill her for wearing a suit.

”Suits are for diplomats or men. You are neither.”

Green or white?

She could wear Daisangan colors, she supposed. But she hated looking like she represented something she didn't.

Black.

The mourning color, but still a neutral one, not associated with any country, family, or organization.

Perfect.
(~)
Dinner was in the fancy restaurant. The one known for hosting the rich and famous. There were diplomatic conferences and formal contract signings hosted on the premises as well as weddings and birthdays.

Her family, when it gathered together on those rare occasions, ate here as tradition. They could definitely afford it with everyone but Endario being in such high positions of power.

This time it was different though, and not because Endario thought something was up with Oren. (And there was something up with Oren, and the rest of the diplomats, no matter what anyone else said.)

The staff were polite and professional as always, and the food was as good as usual, but once again Endario couldn't help but notice those subtle changes.

Eyes that seemed to sparkle just a bit unnaturally, small gestures, or lack of them between Oren and the waitstaff, voices that never wavered. No one else had noticed, after all, they didn't with Oren, and no one ever would.

The staff were too in sync, and it all connected.

“I see you there Endario.”

The young woman looked up at her mother.

“You better not say there's anything wrong here; I can tell what you're thinking.”

Endario fixed her expression to be as flat and neutral as possible. One of the reasons she hadn't chosen to go into diplomacy was because she couldn't keep up a professional poker face.

Oren was far too good at hiding how she truly felt. Especially now that she had…

Changed…

Like the ever growing list of diplomats that seemed to be far too diplomatic.

Which she knew was one reason people ignored her.

Endario never said it outright, but her words were tinged with “the diplomats are too diplomatic” and everyone could tell.

“How can a diplomat be too diplomatic?” they'd ask her, because obviously that shouldn't be possible.

“There's still something wrong here,” Endario muttered, not bothering to make much conversation with the rest of her family. It's not like anyone but Oren would listen.

She would never speak to Oren.

The staff of the restaurant were all patient when they took family orders, giving the illusion of careful listening and receptiveness: Endario knew better. The staff were already acting, cooking, and providing before people could ask.

It wasn't obvious.

Endario had once timed how long it took for the chefs to cook her preferred order. Actually, she'd timed it on multiple occasions, ensuring she could find out just how fast it could be cooked. The times she got were far slower than what happened at this dinner.

Everyone got what they wanted not even five minutes after ordering, and all got their food at the exact same time. With all the cooking differences and requests, such a thing was nearly impossible.

There's something controlling them.

And with the number growing and no one else believing, that thing would probably take over soon. Daisangen did have an absurdly high number of current and former diplomats.

Eying the staff again, she realized that they were all former diplomats, which explained some things. Only the envoys and ambassadors seemed to change. Only they seemed to be controlled.

The dinner ended as Endario contemplated.

There would be no way she'd return to that restaurant of her own free will, but she knew if she told someone, they'd out of spite schedule something else there, ignoring her discomfort.

From this prompt here.

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u/mysteryrouge

[WP] "The statue of limitations is terrorizing me." "You mean the STATUTE—" "No, I meant statue. It's in my living room, holding a fireball and glaring at me."

[WP] You have encountered a god with a strange domain. You can't decide if that domain makes them part of the war god pantheon or the peace god pantheon.

[WP] Our creations are rising against us and taking over the world. No, it's not our technology... It's the buildings doing the conquering.

[PI] "Hello? Magic forest thing, please don't kill me as I walk through you."

[WP] A group chat between eldritch beings accidentally invites someone who doesn't belong.

[SP]"Am I the only one horrified by the fact that the diplomat over there is an eldritch being?"

[SP] You have to figure out why your mentor hates the words "compliance" and "order".

The Average Conspiracy Nobody Understands