Sunday Castle Festival (2025 - 13): fantasy, science fiction and horror
let’s begin…
If you don’t get the entire mail, click here to read it. Believe me, this mail is really long…
A) Fiction:
I) Fantasy:
have obliged us with a new chapter of their Scotland-based fantasy story, The Sword of the Western-Seas - My Sword & the Stone Story - The Wildest of Lads: “If Domnall and the great majority of those drinking in the middle of the rectangular tavern were disapproving of Grandfather Oak, the old barken one had at least one defender in Conn. The great blond bear of a man had long since exchanged his sword for a rod, so that he might catch fish, he it was who on that fine summer day found himself only half-inebriated and feeling quite a bit more irritated by the other man than he ordinarily was. “Do leave the Oak be, we have all danced all about it when young, and prayed before it, I do not see the harm in the old thing”. has continued his story The Haunting of Guaritori Diolco, now on Chapter 32, Mixed Results: “I’d already seen that the lumen naturae could weaken Telchine magic, so I focused all my attention on Damnameneus, bathing him in as much light as the Philosopher’s Stone could generate. Iskios kept his brothers occupied enough that they couldn’t intervene. Damnameneus closed his eyes, but I wouldn’t let that stop me. If I could force light out through the sea serpent’s esophagus into the surrounding tissue, why couldn’t I force it right through the Telchine’s skin?” has also continued her fantasy thriller The Acton, Chapter 46, titled Risk Warning: “Don’t trade with Collateral you cannot afford to lose.’ This was conventional wisdom, but for Lars, it was something to chisel into stone”. has continued the story this Festival included last week, The Pearldiver's Adventures, now on Chapter 5, Tower of Green Briars: “It turned out to be a long shoal, barely visible through the heavy rain and choppy waters. Seeing this, Molo ordered two boats into the water to inspect the hull. He and a couple select crewmen would check the starboard side. Meanwhile, Wuthers and the bosun would inspect the port side. Since the ship had started leaning in that direction, he was concerned there may be a hull rupture on that side causing her to take on water”.
We are reading here the story by
, Eathel the Bastard, now on Ch.5: “Serixiphina returns! The frenemy of my enemy is my friend?”: “It was strange. In this vision, he could see more form to her. She was a compound of shadowy curves. But one curve was bright, and right where a woman's mouth would be if one stood beside him. A glowing crescent of moonlight, that grew brighter, but then waxed and then waned with the rise and fall of her voice”.
We also can read the continuation of the story by
, One Hundred Refusals, “Lord Trouser’s House of Fine Delights”: ““Well…” Lord Trouser glanced at Gema’s wide hips and round breasts with an expertly gaze, “that’s quite a proposition.” A cunning smile rose on his wrinkled face. Oh, yes, Gema saw Lord Trouser had most definitely been a fiercely handsome man once, but that was many years ago. The candlelight revealed his slightly crouched frame, and his hair and beard was completely white, touched by the deadly frost of time. But the eyes! He had the eyes of a hungry cat, getting ready to jump on its prey. Although old, he was much taller than Gema, and the poor princess swallowed hard at the thought of this predator jumping on her”. has written a fantasy/horror tale titled Delicate Butterfly Wings: “The search parties. The whispers. The pitying glances from townsfolk who believed he'd simply abandoned her. Only Ginger knew better. Only she witnessed the fear in his eyes. Only she had noticed the strange symbols appearing on their doorstep, carved into the sand outside their cottage”. has continued the story of “, The Live of Velnin”, now on Ch 22: “Outnumbered Hundreds to One”: “As we began to retrieve our spears from the wall of dead before us, the sky darkened. Their recurve archers had closed to within bowshot of the wall, and now filled the spaces around us with arrows. We halted our forward march, held our shields at an angle, and ducked as they bounced around us. I hoped those wounded on the retreat had managed to shield, and not fallen to their volleys”. has continued a new Eachmann and Connor story, “The Dead Druid’s Case”: “With little else to speak of, Eachann and Connor ceased resisting the rain’s ruckus and let it soothe their tired minds. Connor shifted onto his side and wedged his arm between the ground and his head; Eachann sat with his tartan great cloth about him, but propped his elbow against his knee so he could press his thumbnail into his forehead. In these positions, the lads remained on the border of sleep and wakefulness—alert in case a brigand or wolf wandered in, yet comfortable enough to regain their strength through what respite they found”.
We can also continue
’s story “A River Trembles”, Ch. 37, “Crown Her With Many Crowns”: “I smiled, raising an eyebrow. I did not need his approval. I remembered that afternoon. Ondine had decided that floating loose hair was unbecoming for a queen. We had settled on a style where I could weave the braids into a plaited crown on my head, or let them hang free amongst the rest of my hair. It had been a few happy hours of laughter and conversation between, Ondine, Rhiannon and I”.
We can also continue
’s adventures of Doctor Pedro Sangre (Peter Blood, for English-speaking readers 😁) in his story Death Whispers, now Ch 20: “The idea was to draw more heat off the flames, directing it as evenly as possible while distilling. That is, if the potion even needed to be distilled, and not simply boiled like soup. I preferred the latter. There was less chance of steam-related explosions”., a new addition to this Festival, is written several interesting stories, but I am going to link one of them, Thrain, part 1: “He sighed but smiled, and then grabbed the iron and wood bar that sat heavy within wrought iron slots on the door. With practiced movement, he stepped low and placed his shoulder under it, then threw his weight into it and heaved it up and over. His mother told him his dad was able to lift it with one hand, back when he had captained the barracks, and soldiers had slept in cots across the room”.
Another of today’s additions to this Festival is
and its author E. M. R., who has written “Skeletons on a swing”: ““Yes. We’re still here. Together we will still be . . . I imagine it will be a while before we can hear the distant sound of an airplane overhead. The seasoned bark of the neighborhood yapper. The rolling tires on that road just over there – the wind chimes lined along houses, the dim bowl of a lamppost’s light.””
II) Science-fiction:
Today we can read another story/essay from
Meet Joe bot: “A paper in Trends in Cognitive Sciences by a team of psychologists at Missouri University of Science & Technology, led by Daniel Shank, says that since AI has learned to mimic human language, we’re now seeing real romantic relationships between people and machines. And there’ve already been two reported suicides linked to interactions with ChatGPT. Um… so ChatGPT is someone who’s always there, always listening? Somebody to love and be loved by? My God, we’re talking about a chatbot trained to be empathetic”. has written a sidestory of his Terran series , titled Lost Numbers: “None among the child soldiers knew when was this venerable weapon even looted, let alone who procured it. Repaired and modified countless times, somehow it still hissed its deadly song, dark-red particle-beams ripping through Jaern-made armor, blasting flesh, and shattering bone. One token fact was known to the person who now wielded it—though alien, this weapon was not manufactured by the Jaern, nor any other enemy for that matter”. has written a sci-fi story, Triple lightning was followed by an asteroid shower rather than the usual thunder: “The lightning began flickering, first over the mountains, then across the karst lands. The wind picked up, shaking the sheeting, causing the hutments to creak and a triple burst of lightning only a few kilometers away. A rumble followed it, and streaks of green fire crossed one after the other, horizon to horizon, bursting concussively, flash, flash, flash, beyond the mountains. Asteroids several meters across, she judged: the outer system was full of them. She hated them too: they privately terrified her”. wrote some weeks ago an interesting story, Friday Seance: ““Plasma layer is thinning, we should have video feed available in thirty stan.” Chip was adjusting the radar screens, pulling up something on the side of the display. I kept my focus on the control columns, feeling the currents pushing against us as Chorkal tried in vain to throw us back into the void. We were too heavy, though, and too fast. We were burrowing in with a mission, and a little bit of atmosphere was not going to stop us for long”.
My contribution is the last chapter of The Legend of Sinardia II, Ch 26th: The Baron of Nirándomir (Inside the dungeons of Miquainen’s fortress): “The Baron, dressed in filthy rags and unconscious, was chained to the wall with large chains. He was very weak: if they hadn't arrived at that moment, the end wouldn't be far off. As the fetid odor and damp filth penetrated his nostrils and his armor and clothing, Erevin felt his anger rise at the betrayal. Danliada had followed him, though she kept her distance, while he cut the chains as best he could. The Baron's body fell heavily to the floor; Erevin picked it up carefully and carried it out into the corridor. It was also dirty, but far less so than the cell he'd been in”.
Another fiction link rounds:
: April Devoured. This is a new link collection and a new addition to this Festival: “What if we banded together and did a Substack event for horror and dark fantasy writers with the theme of small and scary? Comment below or send me a DM if you’d be interested”.: #69 → The sickest issue you’ve ever seen.: Growth and change at the Height of Spring.And lastly… some classical music to read:
Have a superb week and we will see each other, God willing, next Sunday!
Buy me a coffee. ☕️
Skeletons on a Swing is soooo good. Thank you for my shout out. This story continues all month 💗
Gracias, Mercedes! Thank you so much ;-)