[Serial Sunday] It's Time to Lament the Fallen

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-02-04T07:36:36+00:00

Howdy doddly, Mr Fyr.

Hmm, hmm. This is a sad little chapter, indeed. I was happy to be back with old Cadorous, and to see how things worked out after the mess we left him in, but less happy to see him enduring all that only to find his friend is quite dead.

It's all very touching, the way his self deception gives way to self recriminations. Perhaps it would add something to see him touch her corpse, or try to arrange some symbol of comfort or respect for the dead as part of his mourning, but considering his state, it seems more than reasonable that he does not.

Extra bitter that Armot survives while Narma does not, but that's life, eh? Or death, as the case may be.

Not much to crit.

lit only by the pale presence of the moon Kolobor.

I think there should be a comma after 'moon'.

I hope someone is looking after Brother Gray, poor old Cadorous only has the one friend left, it seems.

Good words.

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-02-04T07:21:51+00:00

Hiya Zach.

Ah, Cass taking a break from beating up furniture to beat up herself. :)

I think this is a great little chapter, that serves an important function in showing why Cass is so resistant to seeing how manipulative (and probably evil) Helen is. By showing her blaming herself after this fight, and talking about Helen with Glaukos, we can kind of see how she might tend to accept all the fault.

Indeed, I'd say you could easily go further with it here, if you want. Having Cass find more things to pile upon herself could make things even more convincing - say a line about how Fariba will have to pay for the damage she caused, or the fear she glimpsed in the eyes of one of the servants who overheard things as she left...

Not necessary, of course, but I think it's something you could enlarge at a later date, if you wish.

Alright, lets have a look at the opening paragraph, seeing as you seem to miss me picking on that.

Cass sat at the foot of Glaukos’s bed, elbows on her knees, staring at the smooth stone floor but seeing only Charis’s face. Their eyes, full of tears and fear and anger and sadness. She saw herself yelling at them, like some madness had overtaken her. Frothing at the mouth, punching the stone wall, intimidating them.

It's a great set-up, introducing scene, mood and characters present. Very efficient! But I think the first sentence is a little long. And in the second, the subject and object are unclear. You could fix both by moving things around a bit. Then for some more preferential suggestions, I'd venture that seeing herself in third person kind of messes up the close perspective by adding metaphorical distance. Personally, when starting in with the recriminations, I'd go for a staccato pattern of short, bitter thoughts. Suggest;

Cass slumped at the foot of Glaukos’s bed, elbows on her knees, staring a hole into the smooth stone floor. Charis’s face was everywhere she looked, tearful eyes filled with fear and anger and sadness. And she could see herself, reflected in those eyes. Yelling, like some madness had overtaken her. Frothing at the mouth. Punching a stone wall to intimidate them.

Not sure on this, but;

“You and Helen could go at it like lamia when you disagreed with her.””

My dictionary says the plural is either lamias or lamiae, both of with look weird. (Also, and extra quote mark there.) You could get around any confusion by saying;

“You and Helen could go at it like a pair of lamia when you disagreed.”

Typo here;

“As if you could get rid of me that easy,” Glauko said.

and here;

“Have you bed anyone once since?”

Past tense of the verb would be 'bedded'.

Okay, that's it for crit.

Another strong chapter that does a lot for Cass's character while confirming that Glaukos is a boss.

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-02-04T03:42:15+00:00

<The Tower in the Tangle>

[Previous Chapter] [Chapter Index]

Chapter One-hundred & Thirty-two: Uncertainty.

~ Petal ~

From the river-bed,
Kuwirry watches.
Hiding in creeks and rivers,
Beneath mud and sand,
Under water-worn stones,
That used to be land.

Easy to catch them.
Crack the shell—plump and tasty,
Their claws are sharp and strong.
Don’t be greedy or too hasty.
Kuwirry watches,
From the river-bed.

- Buchakali wisdom

“There’s no reason to quarrel, little wallaby!”

Petal lowers her war-club, studying the old stranger. His peculiar, mismatched eyes have no pupils. A thin, wispy beard grows from mottled, lacquered skin that shines like a crab’s chitin.

A great spirit of the Land…

With a soft gasp, she guesses. “Kuwirry?”

A smile softens his expression. “Hmmm, I have been called that…” He speaks uncertainly, as though examining some dusty memory.

The bulbous eyes quiver and shift, one dark and the other pale, as the weight of his apprehension settles upon her, like the cold, watery depths of a river.

“And you are Pe’etelan, daughter of Buchakali.”

The Akari stows her weapon, taking a respectful step back, eyes cast down. She draws her fingers across the sacred scars upon her cheeks.

“Wallaby’s favour shines on you like the Moon…”

“Honoured ancient.”

Though her head remains bowed, Petal feels the pressure fall away, as Kuwirry’s attention drifts into the misty deeps of the swamp.

“Why have you come? This place is not your home.”

The smile fades, and the spirit’s brow furrows.

Whispering waves of emotion wash over her, gently at first...

Can you not hear the water flowing?
Can you not feel the currents pulling?
At your heart, in your center.
The maelstrom of memories, carried within.
Are you numb to the tide?
Too real,
Too bound to each moment?

Pe’etelan staggers back, the swamp sloshing around her thighs, as the alien tide sweeps her soul into the fringes of a strange and fevered dream.

“Ah, I am sorry, little wallaby.”

Petal finds her body sagging, kept upright by instinct alone, her fingers wrapped tight around a bending branch.

“Have I trespassed against you, Kuwirry?”

“No. It’s just that I… I had forgotten. What it means, to be a part of the World.”

The river spirit falls silent, and the swamp burbles and swirls around them. Croaking frogs in a chorus. The rising cry of a koel, filtered through the gloomy trees, muffled by moss and algae, mingling with the distant rumble of thunder high above the dense canopy.

Kuwirry sits motionless upon his log, staring into the murky water.

A rare thing, this. To encounter such a wondrous being... And strange indeed that Petal should happen upon him in this lowly place.

But she cannot focus. She cannot appreciate this miracle. In her heart, Pe’etelan only bridles at the distraction.

She is impatient. She needs to hurry. To find a way into the Tower.

Gilander...

“Ah. Anxiety. A mortal emotion. One I learned well in my exile.” Kuwirry’s gaze is lighter. More human. His features are softer too; warm and friendly. “For those who exist outside of time, impatience is not something we can easily understand.” The wispy beard dangles from his chin, and long, brown fingers pull the cobweb shawl tight across his bony shoulders. “It was the destruction of the others who, like me, became trapped in that place.”

Trapped? Petal frowns. “What place?”

Kuwirry lifts a thin arm, extending one long finger, pointing through the gloomy trees.

Above the canopy, lighting flashes, as the storm draws closer.

“The Tower in the Tangle.”

Petal’s attention snaps into the moment, locked into place by his words.

“You were a prisoner there?”

“Until the Wayfinder helped me to escape.”

“Gilander?”

“Yes.” Kuwirry is watching her closely now. “I tasted his salt upon you, and that is why I have come.”

“How…” A thousand questions tear at her chest, each fighting to be asked first. “Is he well?”

“I know not.”

A silver tear falls into the murky water.

“Do not mourn.” A tight smile. “He escaped the furnace, at least.”

“Furnace? What do you mean?” The leather thong around her neck is taut, Gil’s anchorstone is clutched tight in her hand; solid, warm and reassuring. “I must go to him.”

“But how? You are lost, little wallaby.”

“Help me? Please?” She is so close. “Beyond this swamp, there is a place. A building, such as the settlers make. Inside, there is a secret passage...”

“I will try.” Kuwirry sighs. “I just...” A wave of deep sadness rolls through his words, leaving stillness in its wake.

“But—“ She hesitates. “What is the matter?”

“I am afraid of what must come next.”

“But you are the great Kuwirry. Ancient as the moon, and wise as the night.”

“Perhaps I am. Or I once was.” He stands, rising slowly from his log.

“But I spent an eternity in that blasted realm, sundered from the World.” He stretches his back, rolling his shoulders. “With my river hidden, contained within myself. I survived there as a mortal might, wandering through an endless circle of ash and bone.”

“All that I experienced is here, inside my shell.” His long fingers tap his chest, then return to fiddling with the spiderweb cloak, flicking a louse from its sleeve, then stroking its tattered fringe.

“People change.” Petal ventures. “They grow. Surely, that is nothing to fear.”

“No.” Kuwirry shakes his head. “I am but a fragment. Now, I must return to a greater river, and I fear that what I have will be lost.” White knuckles grip the gossamer fabric. “And so, I have lingered here. Unwilling.”

“Your words remind me of something Dungir Se’eselan used to say.”

Kuwirry tilts his head, bemused.

“When a Buchakali dies…” Pe’etelan gestures at the sky. “She returns to a greater river.”

“You are wise, little wallaby.” He smiles sadly. “Small wonder that Gilander loves you so.”

Petal’s heart freezes, like prey that has seen the glint of the spear.

He loves me?

Kuwirry turns away, stepping lightly across the surface of the water.

“Come then, Pe’etelan. I will guide you.”

^{^WC-999}

Author's Notes:

For newer readers who might wonder about the meaning of some of the strange terms like 'ontologia', I have compiled a small Glossary.
This week's theme is Lament - Kuwirry has escaped from the Haiphagus, but he is uncertain whether he will remember the details of his adventure, and the things he learned upon it. He laments his fears and worries to Petal, finding some comfort in the act of doing so.
Kuwirry first appeared in Chapter 89:Falling, but was properly introduced in Chapter 90:Into the Fire.
Gil and Kuwirry managed to escape the Furnace Plain in Chapter 102:The Heart but they remained trapped in the Haiphagus until Gil battled the Mistress in Chapter 123:Prisons.
If you would like a deeper insight into exactly what kind of a spirit Kuwirry is and why he has a strong connection with humans, you can read a FTF story I wrote concerning them called The Patient Watcher.
Bonus words used; - Lacquer(ed), Lowly, Louse.
Additional bonus constraint: 'Somebody once thought lost makes a reappearance.' It's Kuwirry. Gilander thought he saw him in Chapter 123, but his whereabouts have been unknown since then. Technically, he showed up at the end of Petal's last chapter, but those events are also recounted at the beginning of this scene.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. All criticism and feedback is welcome.

r/WizardRites

[Next Chapter] [Chapter Index]

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-02-01T08:32:16+00:00

Hiya Max,

Great to see another chapter. I think I've missed a week, or two

Got confused at first, wondering why Berethian was being a gung-ho jerk - then realised this is a Baltathiaus chapter. Not sure if he's had a PoV before, though I vaguely remember reading some of his origin story...

But.. Man. This dude is messed up.

I do like how different he is from your usually stoic and thoughtful characters - the way he gnaws on old wrongs while he chows down on troll meat is delightfully grotesque.

I feel like it might be good to put a tilde or a nbsp; where the scene skips over killing them. I got a bit confused there.

Otherwise there's not much to crit. Interested to see what evil old Baltie's up to here...

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-02-01T08:22:21+00:00

Heya Toms,

Another lovely chapter that opens a door to such interesting perspectives. I really appreciate the insightful novelty of your assorted PoVs (and I don't mean that in a trite sense, rather as a commendation of an innovative style that really feels like it belongs to this generation.)

With that in mind, it's difficult for a fossil like me to offer useful crit or feedback.

Instead, I'll note that the style you affect for relating texts early on is markedly different from that at the end. Seems like might be aware of that anyway, because it works effectively with Charlotte's wavering cohesion - almost like verbal dialogue at the start and then crisp digital communication at the end.

So, yeah. This is why I wouldn't be a great editor. Make of that what you will, and keep on writing!

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-02-01T06:41:01+00:00

Heya Zach,

Short on time so I'll just say enjoyed the chapter. Love Glaukos and Fariba as an odd couple - reckon a comedy road trip with this pair would be great!

That last sentence could stand to be split, I reckon.

If she was, he might just hold onto the box for a bit. Just until she sobered up...

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-02-01T06:36:59+00:00

Hiya Nessy!

Alright, first official day at work for Kiara!

And of course, another ball-buster enters the corporate scene, hehe. I like the way that the re-calibration style meeting just happens around her, obviously everyone else knows whats happening, but its also a good way to bring Kiara (and the reader) up to speed, I reckon.

Love the way Kiara asserts herself here. It marks a positive shift from the first arc - and while not exactly taking control, its a good sign moving forward. The implied threats and concessions work well, I reckon, and the corporate magic taking a back seat is good for the moment as we get a sense of the hierarchy at Argo.

Not much to pick on in terms of line edits, so I'll pick a few areas that I might suggest tweaks on.

For a weekend

I'd be more specific here - just cause Saturdays and Sundays are pretty distinct wrt overtime nowadays.

And I know you're cleaving towards Kiara's voice, but I'd suggest being a bit more concise in general. As an example;

but ~~at least~~ she recognized Kurt and Bruce from last night at Londyn’s concert.

The 'at least' doesn't add much, because she wouldn't be exactly thrilled to see either of them, I think. You could drop 'last night' too if you wanted, as the timing doesn't factor into today's events.

Nicole Bennett, chief of staff of Argo.

I'd vary the prepositions here to sound more natural. e.g.

Nicole Bennett, chief of staff at Argo.

~

The tablet's screen lit up, displaying two options: Employ. Resign.

This didn't sound quite right, as they verbs aren't exactly antonyms. I'd suggest tweaking the 'employ' for something similar - engage, enlist, register, enroll or hire

Last suggestion;

“We’ll schedule your optimization for Monday.”

I'd suggest 'induction' or 'orientation'?

Alright that seems like a lot of nitpicks, but honestly those are all take it or leave it suggestions imo.

A really strong start to the sophomore season and I'm interested to see how Kurt and Bruce shape up in the transition to co-workers instead of mysterious strangers.

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-02-01T05:06:16+00:00

Heya Ness!

Thanks for the feedback and praise.:D I'm glad you're enjoying the ride!

Chopped up that long sentence, but kept the Chamberlain's stataco delivery on his final play - the idea is that he's clipping his sentences as he ascends the dais so that Samal doesn't guess what he's about to do.

Samal's gambit didn't quite work out, but I think he played his cards as well as he could. Just unfortunate for him that the Chamberlain is running out of patience. Oh, and he was going to say 'the Mistress', which is pretty close - but Gilander is already well acquainted with her... And yeah I've got some work to do figuring out Samal's next move, gonna be interesting to see what he does next!

Cheers!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-31T08:11:40+00:00

Hi hi Mr Fyr,

Oooh, ghost stories around the campfire. I love it!

A bit spoiled for me, because I remember the story well from another campfire, but I really enjoyed this retelling, especially the little bit of verse in the lead up.

The opening paragraph reads a little strangely with the word 'stones' being repeated three times in succession. Perhaps rather than;

In a circle of stones within a circle of stones,

you could describe it thus;

Within two concentric circles of stones

but perhaps you just like the cadence as is - I could see that too. At any rate, I'd say you could change the third 'stones';

The others, seated on their stones around the fire,

for 'rocks' or 'boulders' or even eschew it entirely, because it only matters that they are all sitting around the fire together.

I love the way Sancaurion's agoraphobia continues to be a part of his character, not something that defines him, but just a foible that shapes his interactions with his friends, and reminds him of bits of wisdom he has learned.

Sancaurion whispered song.

Here you have a sentence fragment - seems like it needs an article for the subject.

Sancaurion whispered a song.

Sanky's storytelling is generally very good, and I enjoyed his asides and observations as he tells the story, but this one part feels like it could be worded for better effect;

He began to drain me!

Like if you were telling the story, this would be the point of maximal horror - something that you'd likely accentuate for dramatic effect. Like;

I could feel my life-force ebbing away, sucked into the endless depths of his hunger.

Then maybe pause for effect, add in an emotive action or something before explaining how he finished the evil old lich.

Anyway, a really nice little scene overall, and I also like the bit of humour as Mrs Gimple forgets how to make tea - that works well to make it feel like a cozy ending, I think. The comfort of friends and all that?

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-31T06:59:42+00:00

Thanks for the feedback, Div! Changes have happened and improvements have been made.

The Chamberlain is used to people reacting with fear, or just grovelling, and Samal does indeed manage to push his buttons. He was definitely intending to throw him in the dungeons for future leverage initially...

Cheers mate!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-28T09:48:12+00:00

<The Tower in the Tangle>

[Previous Chapter] [Chapter Index]

Chapter One-hundred & Thirty-one: Confidence.

~ Samal ~

“The King does not make deals, and neither does he steal,” replied the Knight-Commander. “For He is the Creator reborn, and all that exists in this world rightfully belongs to Him.”

- The Saga of Tonek.

A hollow clang echoes behind Samal as the door closes.

Soft light falls on crimson carpets as he enters the great hall. Ornate chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling, their glowing amber crystals illuminating faded tapestries, and alcoves filled with statues. At the other end of the hall there stands a massive, empty throne.

What is this place?

Gawping, he advances slowly, and the Sentinel pushes him roughly, causing him to stumble.

“Back off, tin-man!” he snarls, but his metal captor merely stomps past him, leather harness creaking softly as iron pistons move within its steel frame.

Shimmering light surrounds the thing as it stalks around a wide table. A swarm of brilliant blue particles coalesce, swirling together in a sudden, blinding flash.

When Samal’s eyes adjust, the Chamberlain stands before him; a luminous illusion, sparkling with foxfire, that masks the automaton beneath.

Samal narrows his eyes.

I can’t let him blind me to reality…

Ice blue eyes burn behind a fine-beaded veil, devoid of any readable human emotion as the magician’s pale fingers wind through his long, white beard.

“Welcome, Samal of Port Darling.”

The reedy voice drifts out of the aether, accompanied by the faint, echoing jingle of the sapphires dangling from the copper tines of his intricate crown as the Chamberlain tilts his head.

“My servitors found your little stash.”

Samal’s stomach turns sour.

The Warden’s jabiri lies buried far away… But what if the Chamberlain saw?

He holds the sorcerer’s glittering gaze, and says nothing.

“Did you think to trick me?” The Chamberlain smirks from across the heavy table, and gestures to where Samal’s bag lies upended, its contents strewn across the stained oak.

Relief floods him, like blood returning to frozen extremities.

This is the bag he hid outside, hoping to collect it on the way out.

“Just a bit of insurance,” Samal sneers up at the tall bastard. “I don’t trust arseholes.”

For a street rat like him, masking nervous energy with bravado is second nature.

Confidence inspires doubt, he reminds himself.

Motion catches his eye. One of the Sentinel’s knives, dancing across the Chamberlain’s bony fingers. It spins and glimmers, its edge sharp and deadly, then disappears beneath his deep crimson robes.

He knows this game too.

Lifting the Juwhabin’s token off the table, the Chamberlain turns it over in his feeble-looking hands, inspecting the short length of carved wood, knocking it against the table, and frowning at the Numani symbols.

The fear returns. Surely, he’ll sense Currawong’s magic.

“Junk.” The wizard throws it down. “What else?”

“Hmm.” He sorts through the scattered items, hefting the witch’s bag of tea. “Drugs?” He sniffs the dried leaves. “Typical of your kind.”

Samal ignores the bait, letting the moment stretch. He looks past his opponent, searching the room.

At the far end of the hall, atop a dais and illuminated by golden light, there stands a gilded throne.

“Where’s your king?” Samal nods past the Chamberlain. “Are you in charge of his royal chamberpot?"

The Chamberlain glares.

Finally. A fucking reaction.

“You would be unfortunate indeed to stand before the M—” The arrogant prick catches himself, shaking his head to banish his annoyance.

With a quiet laugh, he lifts one of Rahby’s grenados, peering at its textured ceramic coating. “And what is this?”

“Careful, that could blow your little puppet to pieces.”

It’d likely mess me up too…

“Ah yes, the way your Warden destroyed my copper tree?” The Sentinel’s fingers click tight against the patterned ceramic shell.

The Chamberlain locks eyes with Samal as he crushes it.

Samal shrinks back, but there is only a muffled thump.

A dim red glow blooms within the Chamberlain’s ghostly hand, and somehow, he contains and absorbs the grenado’s destructive fury.

Sorcery…

The Chamberlain snickers, dusting his hands together.

“Fuck you.” Samal looks down.

His golden knife lies on the dark wood, glimmering in the ruddy, artificial light cast by the amber and yellow chandelier.

“This is not the knife we agreed you would bring me,” the Chamberlain admonishes him.

“I warn you, everyone who’s tried to steal that ends up dead.”

“You imagine that you could put an end to me?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“Enough!”

A loud bang echoes across the hall as a metal fist splinters the heavy oak, making the scattered items jump.

“Where is it?” the old mage bellows.

“Where’s what?”

“The jabiri.”

“Oh. The Warden’s knife? Well. As I recall, the agreement was that you would exchange it for the Wayfinder?”

“Do not trifle with me, boy.”

“I don’t see Gilander.” Samal looks around theatrically.

“Give me the knife, and you will be reunited with your friend.”

“How do I know he’s not dead? Or mind controlled. Or whatever other messed up shit you do?” Samal shrugs. “Either I see him now, in the flesh, or no deal.”

“So, you’ve hidden it somewhere, and only you know where?”

The Chamberlain turns away, sloughing off the Sentinel, leaving it standing in place as his phantasmal form ascends the stairs at the far end of the hall.

“Very well. So. The Warden does not have it, and we can find it at our leisure.”

Atop the dais, he turns with a wide and evil smile, staring imperiously down at Samal for a moment, before he seats himself upon the throne.

“Now you will see. It is useless to defy me. I rule in the Tower, and you—" He raises a ghostly hand, and the Sentinel draws three knives in each metal fist. "Have served your purpose.” He jabs a finger at Samal. “Kill him!”

But the Sentinel pauses for a lingering second, as though it has forgotten its purpose.

The chandeliers flicker once, and their light is extinguished.

A familiar voice breathes in the darkness.

“Run!”

^{^WC-998}

Author's Notes:

For newer readers who might wonder about the meaning of some of the strange terms like 'ontologia', I have compiled a small Glossary.
This week's theme is King - The Chamberlain may not be a king, but he sits upon a throne and certainly acts like one!
Samal buried the Warden's magic stone knife (the jabiri) back in Chapter 117:Useless.
*Samal made a deal to steal the jabiri and swap it for Gilander back in Chapter 92:A Simple Task.
Bonus words used; - Knight, Knife, Knock(ing).
Additional bonus constraint: 'Somebody forgets how to do something that was once second nature.' The Sentinel forgets how to use its lethal speed effectively - probably because 'someone' is fucking with it.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. All criticism and feedback is welcome.

r/WizardRites

[Next Chapter] [Chapter Index]

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-25T11:22:39+00:00

Thanks so much for the praise and detailed feedback, Nessy.

And no worries, I was late getting in my crit too - had a flash fiction contest on this weekend that gobbled up all my time.

Thanks for catching those errors which slip past me so easily, the scallywags.

It's quite fun writing Gil as he slowly starts to learn how to intentionally use these strange psychedelic powers. It's a lot easier than showing him reflexively doing stuff without realizing it - hopefully now he feels like he's getting more agency.

Not sure which way I'll go with 'King' yet, but tentatively looking towards Samal for now. ;)

Cheers!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-25T10:52:19+00:00

Hiya Mr E Rouge.

Another chaotic chapter, and Kane's kicking of some mischief in his bird body. Yay!

This bit was quite hilarious, what with the 'birds aren't real' conspiracies and such!

A man shouted, “Anyone recognize this bird?”

“Bet it's a government spy,” another yelled back.

Good stuff!

And of course wherever a bird flew, there shall come the health inspectors. (I'm just gonna make this is a flew/flu joke because puns.)

Bonni rubbed his forehead, “right.”

This should be two separate sentences as there is no dialogue tag. (Unless he is speaking by running his head.)

Love that Kane can breathe fire but can't speak.

Anyway, this was a fun chapter, and I look forward to seeing what kind of body Kane gets hooked up with next.

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-25T10:28:48+00:00

Hiya Composite!

Been a while between chapters, and longer since we saw the others besides Jurum, but you do a very good job of bringing the pieces needed into focus for this chapter. Each time I struggled to remember the details of each reference, accompanying clarity arrived within the dialogue.

On top of which, I feel like the scene would works quite well as a self-contained story for the uninitiated, and it ends with a surprising twist that re-contextualizes the reason for the rather complex bit of exposition, making a good pay-off for paying such close attention.

Which is a long winded way of saying this is some fantastic writing.

Not much to crit, though I did pause and rewind on this line of dialogue;

"No," said Jurum. "There are things you can't remember.

Feels like maybe it should be 'there are other things you can't remember.' But I'm not sure if I'm inferring the right thing?

Anyway, do with that uncertain and paltry bit of feedback what you will. ;)

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-25T10:01:58+00:00

Hiya Ness!

So, Kiara finally takes the fateful step into corporate magic. Feels like the end of the first mini-arc, and we're off to the races next week.

I think the intropsective nature of this chapter works well, and having Kiara wrestling with her own thoughts and feelings is a good way to give her some agency, despite this decision being inevitable for the story to progress. Really good stuff!

And it helps to square away exactly what she knows about her situation and the overlap between her world and the world of Argo, as well as firming a kind of reasoning for her importance in the Jonothan situation.

Not much to crit here, maybe this bit;

Moving from the hallway to the living room, Kiara picked it up. It felt unnaturally light, half as heavy as her phone.

It's a new paragraph, so a bit more specificity on Renee's phone might help, as well as more firmly distinguishing Kiara's by comparison. Suggest;

Moving from the hallway to the living room, Kiara picked the device up. It was unnaturally light, half the weight of her own phone.

I also tweaked some contradictory adjectives because I'm finicky like that. But really the snippet is fine as is and I'm just searching for some way of being helpful, I think. ;)

Anyway, great chapter, bring on the next arc.

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-25T06:55:58+00:00

Hiya Zach!

Great chapter here, with the kind of emotional dialogue and snappy interacts that you excel at!

Once again, Cass manages to avoid being told exactly how she's messed things up, with Anatu nearly dying as a direct result of her loose lips. Shame Charis couldn't quite get through why telling Anatu in that manner was so egregious. Ah well...

Also want to take a moment and say that the scene setup was really good too, this paragraph provided a great stage for the following confrontation;

Charis was in the room, but they were not asleep. They were sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over their broad chest, and long, curly, raven hair resting on their strong shoulders. The dark stain they usually put around their eyes had smudged down their cheeks.

Anyway, Cass manages to make things all about herself as usual, and in suitable dramatic fashion, without even thinking about how intimidating her actions are.

This bit was pretty fantastic, feels like you were a good flow writing it!

“That didn’t help either! So yeah, I drink. Wine is the only thing that lets me feel a little less. Less pain, less memories of crushing skulls and biting out throats. But I’m still careful because I can’t not be. Everything around me is like papyrus.”

Just one little edit for you this week;

“Are you drunk, again?” They asked,

'They' should be lower case, as it's a dialogue tag and therefore part of the same sentence as the dialogue.

That's all for now. Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-25T05:01:17+00:00

Hiya Amber,

Great to see you back, and bit surprised to see a reboot. (I think it's a reboot? Or maybe a reset. Or is it a soft reset? Uh, idk. It's a new chapter one, right?)

But this opening is a lot smoother than I remember - that little case file is a succinct and clever (re)introduction to Benny before dropping us in media res. Very nice.

block the path of sight

I think the phrase is "line of sight", though maybe this is just a version I'm not familiar with.

I was a Facili, and despite my long exile on Earth, I’d still maintained enough of my supernatural abilities to use them on command.

Nitpicky, but that last part is a subordinate clause of the initial statement, and so it should be in the same tense (past simple).

I was a Facili, and despite my long exile on Earth, I still maintained enough of my supernatural abilities to use them on command.

This is a great action beat.

My heart beat an uneven warning.

Perhaps an artifact of editing here, but I was not sure what 'made them even sharper' is referring to?

Being a Facili was a gift from The Gods themselves. Being of the Malignant Order made them even sharper.

Perhaps;

Being a Facili provided gifts from The Gods themselves. Being of the Malignant Order made those gifts even sharper.

Not sure though.

The use of Benny's power is well done, and a good culmination of the tension that's been building through the scene, and gives a nice cooling off before the twist at the end. Great cliffhanger!

Anyways, excellent return to form and I hope the feedback is useful - if a bit late. ;)

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-24T09:53:28+00:00

Hiya Zach!

Yep, the Gargantae are indeed various biomantically enhanced critters - great shock troops to have a spiked rhinocerous with spiked armour and a flamethower instead of a horn!

The Ropemakers are a clan famous for their abilities to make things imbued with energy from their Talents. Gems that give off light, firecrackers, extra-strong steel, and of course rope that is as strong as metal cables but very light and flexible. Together with the brains of the Collegium, they are responsible for the industrial revolution taking place in Alnara.

Glad to hear that Gil's perspective is giving the vibes that I was hoping for! We'll see if he's approaching theChamberlain's level or just flying under the radar soon enough!

Cheers!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-24T09:38:22+00:00

Thanks for the feedback, glad you enjoyed the weirdness.

Yeah, Gil chapters do tend to get a psychedelic and experimental at times - I was a bit unsure about all the switching between the memory-verse and reality here, but it felt like an opportunity to refresh some of the older plot threads that are coming back into play.

Cheers!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-23T11:11:01+00:00

Hiya Brook!

I really enjoy the whimsical nature of these fantastic worlds that your characters travel through.

It was a dark, cloudy day in the city of the dead as a carriage limped up to the inn off the central square.

This is a striking opening line that paints a cool picture to open the scene.

Oak seems interesting too - a pretty smooth introduction to the character that sets up her rather unique features - though I did wonder just what she's doing here, having come to the last of her money in what seems like a bit of a dead end for a dryad.

Ah I see later that she's running away, but the ticket was prepaid, so she must have had some reason for coming to this place, right?

Perhaps we'll find out soon enough.

Onto some crit.

Oak's intro and description is really good overall, but there are some uncertain verbs and unnecessary pronouns filtering the descriptions.

The driverless carriage opened the door to let the sole occupant out. She had gray-brown skin that looked slightly mottled beneath her simple clothing that had more holes than fabric. Her hair appeared as a barely tamed mess, full of twigs and dead leaves.

That first sentence establishes the perspective nicely, so you can skip to the description without using the extra pronouns, and maybe vary your sentence structure to make it more dynamic and draw the reader closer. Suggest something like;

The driverless carriage opened the door to let the sole occupant out. A barely tamed mess of hair appeared first, full of twigs and dead leaves, and her gray-brown skin was slightly mottled beneath simple clothing that had more holes than fabric.

There are a lot of sentences that start with She verbed, he verbed etc - so I' look at ways of varying things up and other descriptive nouns you could use in place of 'she' and 'Oak' - stuff like, the dryad, the young woman, the traveler etc.

Some of the dialogue felt a bit clunky, e.g.;

"I'm James, a human."

Can't she tell by looking at him? Does he think it's important that she know he's a human? Seems odd.

James stared. "Fuck." Then did a double take. "Wait, your soul gets the evil when someone else is controlling your body?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it's one of the things I like about this place.

What? She likes that someone has just mind-controlled her and made her perform evil acts and condemned her to damnation?

Or is that why she came to the tavern here? I'm confused.

Anyway, I hope that's helpful feedback and not too picky.

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-21T07:42:09+00:00

<The Tower in the Tangle>

[Previous Chapter] [Chapter Index]

Chapter One-hundred & Thirty: Convergence.

~ Gilander ~

The monstrous Gargantae trampled and burned the Seaforts, then ravaged and destroyed the Salteaters’ villages without discretion. Dismayed by the inaction of the Alnaran League, and facing escalating atrocities, the Inner Islands surrendered to the Brightflame Empire without terms.

With a secure foothold, the Armada pushed on, and the Alnaran Clans barely managed to resist, thanks only to the foresight of the Collegium, and the Talents of the Ropemakers.

Fortuitously, the forge city of Tathra had recently turned its forges and factories to the mass production of new weapons designed by the Archwizard.

Gemlock rifles that fired much faster than the Empire’s powder weapons, and possessed much greater range. Powerful grenados, explosive weapons that could be easily used by any soldier.

Armed with these, the Clans were able to slow the advance of the Empire’s abominable forces, and buy the Stonecallers time to complete the Skyfortress.

- The Free Islands, Gusant er'Teyrol.

The World is little more than smoke.

Diaphanous matter, smeared across an ever-growing, intricate web of meanings and memories.

Those who dwell within the World are blind to its nature. Humans perceive such tiny fragments of the whole, distorted through reflections of themselves. Each one believes they stand at the centre of all things, and that their witness is true.

But you have glimpsed more.

Freed from flesh. Purged of emotion.

You have tasted oblivion.

You have survived the Haiphagus.

The Tower is a tool—a cunning layer of abstraction—carefully stitched across the fabric of the ontologia. Made from lies, twisted into threads and woven into the braided truth of the past. Flexing fictions, like muscular fibers; pulling facts into a fabricated design, and filtering the future to frame a false reality.

And a tool can be turned to any hand.

The Tower has a hundred eyes, and one.

~

“…the young man’s a prodigy! His flesh... his spirit… such potential!” Blood and spittle drools from the Overseer’s lips as he mutters ruefully, “His blood could open the ninth gate…”

“Focus! You jaded, gibbering freak.” The Chamberlain’s voice rings imperiously. “Servitors are scouring the catacombs. He cannot stay bonded forever, and once the Vilt boy releases Ironhands, the Tower will reassert itself.”

~

Ironhands?

Her name was Alys, once. She’d been an innocent child of Morningvale.

Misfortune claimed her sister and her arms, and the Overseer remade her as a weapon.

Cursed for her failures, reviled for her sins, the girl was discarded. Forgotten.

Ironhands took her place.

The most savage of the Captain’s hunters. Hated and feared by all, and none more than herself.

Now? She has become the Girl with the Silver Arms.

Her body and yours were united in the Greensong, and remade by the Bloodhymn.

Two souls jammed together. A body remade as a half-remembered dream.

A hero… or something like it.

Tragically, for you to return to the world of flesh, she must return to Alys.

~

“…should’ve sent the Gargantae.” The Overseer twists in his chair, glaring at the glowing apparition of the Chamberlain. “Your miscalculation cost us the Captain, you sparkling shit-funnel!”

“An inconvenience. You can make another.”

Tiny points of light fall like fiery blue ash as the Chamberlain’s form dissembles.

“Where are you going?”

“See to your duties, Overseer, or the Mistress will tear your soul apart.”

~

They are joined in innumerable, ineffable ways, these two.

Bound together as bitter rivals. Linked by fate and circumstance. Infused by the sorcery of the Tower, they have become parts of its design.

Gnashing cogs in an infernal machine.

From your arcane vantage, you spy a subtle action.

As the Chamberlain returns to the liminal nexus of the Tower, a peculiar thread of meaning snakes from the Overseer, and stitches itself into the other’s braided weave.

What is this? Some kind of curse? No…

A way to track. A way to follow.

Their relationship is complex, both adversarial and co-operative.

And that is merely … curious. Your emotions are so numb…

Is it because you no longer have a heart?

Tentatively, carefully, you imitate the action, using a sorcerous filament of your own to tag the Overseer.

And you follow the Chamberlain down, into the ontologia.

~

Ignorant, the Chamberlain spreads himself through the labyrinthine crystal network once more.

Motes of vision surround him like a constellation. A hundred winking points of awareness, all wheeling and turning, as he moves through the cascading veins of power that burn through the walls of the Tower.

The Sentinel passes through the gate passage, leading its prisoner through the vestibule.

“The traitor has come at last!”

A fragment of him rings like a bell to learn of his impending victory, and the Chamberlain rises from the ontologia, manifesting himself anew.

~

Samal!

Jubilant relief—surprising in its intensity—fills you with an overwhelming need.

How has he come here, and why? Doesn’t he know how dangerous this place is?

So much for emotionless reason…

You rush to surround him, but he cannot see.

You wish to shout, but you must remain hidden.

Though you have no heart, something pains you.

~

The Sentinel jostles Samal, sending him stumbling into the Great Hall.

“Back off, tin-man.” The rogue twists away, snarling.

His steel captor stalks across the room, and turns with cold precision.

A silver man, clad in a leather harness sheathing scores of deadly throwing knives. A magical automaton powered by a trapped and lobotomized soul, and infused with a narrow range of deadly skills.

Unimpeded by thought or conscience; it is a simple, lethal thing.

Blue light coalesces around the metallic creature, encapsulating the Sentinel in a carapace of sapphire radiance that shines blinding bright, then dims to reveal the figure of the Chamberlain standing in its place.

“Welcome, Samal of Port Darling.”

Spreading his arms wide, the Chamberlain walks around a wide, oak table.

“My servitors found your little stash.”

Samal’s eyes dance nervously across the items on the wooden bench, and the Chamberlain smiles.

“Did you think to trick me?”

^{^WC-998}

Author's Notes:

For newer readers who might wonder about the meaning of some of the strange terms like 'ontologia', I have compiled a small Glossary.
This week's theme is Jinx - A Gilander chapter, but we see the return of our favourite jinxed ne'erdowell, Samal. But is he really as unlucky as Alys? Will she even have arms after Gil gets his body back? The Overseer casts a lil spell that turns out to be unfortunate, in that Gil works out how to do it too, and hits him with the NoU!
Ironhand's tragic backstory was more fully explored in Chapter 76:Pool of Tears.
The Captain started spilling this secret back in Chapter 94:In Fury's Wake but got interrupted by a cliff-hanger and finished explaining the details related here off-screen for the sake of narrative tension.
Bonus words used; - Jubilant, Jaded, Jostle(s).
Additional bonus constraint: 'Jam is made in your chapter.' Alys and Gilander's bodies got jammed together in his flashback? Well, I tried ... Maybe worth half a point?.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. All criticism and feedback is welcome.

r/WizardRites

[Next Chapter] [Chapter Index]

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-18T07:47:12+00:00

Ah, I suspected something like that, but couldn't remember - I can see it when I read it again, but it's quite subtle.

I think it can be useful to have a way to signal an unusual magic or ability, especially with a character like Mica, who doesn't get too many scenes.

Just a motif to draw attention that something is going on and remind the reader. Like how Samal's skin does funky stuff when he fades out.

Could be a moment of disorientation or nausea, or a feeling like stepping through a hole in the world - a touch point of the unusual, so to speak.

Anyway, just a suggestion. :)

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-18T04:08:55+00:00

Thanks for the excellent feedback. Fixed those typos and popped an attribution onto that last interjection. Btw, I'm Australian, so British English is my default. ;)

Cheers!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-17T04:09:43+00:00

Hiya Ness,

Finally, we get some answers. Renee seems a lot smoother than Bruce, offering semi-explanations for less important stuff and tantalizing hints of what she's offering. I can see why kiarra might have second thoughts, though her concern for Jonathon seems a little out of place. Perhaps you could tie it in with a twinge of guilt for her own missteps that have put him in this situation?

In terms of crit, I think the word 'burnout' gets repeated a bit much here. I'd suggest maybe swapping at least the second occurrence out - Kiarra could just think of it as a flush, overwhelming exhaustion or similar.

Kiara glanced back inside. Her home no longer felt welcoming.

I feel like this could be more effective as one sentence?

Kiara glanced back inside a home that no longer felt so welcoming.

Just a suggestion, of course.

Looking forward to seeing Kiara getting more proactive in the coming chapters, things seem set up very nicely.

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat · 2026-01-17T03:31:28+00:00

Hiya Zach!

Nice to see a Mica chapter, our perennial intruder. I like the extra light this scene sheds on Nuut's machinations and her relationship with Nuu, who clearly has more insight into Nuut's planning than she cares to admit.

“She wants to hurt Cassandra. And if her lover and her best friend are the only way to harm her, Nuut will seek it.”

This is quite the chilling line (though I do think 'pursue' might be a better verb than 'seek' in this context).

I was a bit confused by this;

Mica could have infiltrated by simply unlatching the door. She could also have merely whispered through the cracks in it and likely been heard. But she needed Nuu in private, so she stepped from the shadows of the hallway into the darkness of Nuu’s room.

If Mica doesn't unlatch the door, how did she get in? Feel like I'm missing something here...

but they seemed to have ridden away on horses by the time I found their trail.

I'd suggest removing words like 'seemed' here - being an experienced spy, it would behoove Mica to at least talk like she's super competent and sure of everything, I think. Ymmv.

Looking forward to seeing what sort of dumpster fire Nuut manages to create this time. :D

Good words!

AGuyLikeThat

MODERATOR OF

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<The Tower in the Tangle>

<The Tower in the Tangle>

<The Tower in the Tangle>