Watcher Doings 43                         

Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=SHUFFLE. Read, write and come back for more  SIX SENTENCE STORIES.   (Link goes active Wed night).

Plangeduc grabbed the cellphone out of his pocket and pattered down the stairs to the lake and the end of the dock where the signal was strongest for videocalling.

Elinorth picked up after the fifth ring—it was the middle of the night, afterall—and sat up in bed, hair a wild mess; behind her, a younger not-fully-bearded gnome groaned and switched on the light on the tree stump night table, then rolled over and recommenced snoring.

“Thanks Pet,” Elinorth purred, patting the blanket beside her affectionately as she turned back to her call with Plangeduc and growled “You better have good news for me!”

“Jimann has been neutralized by the Lady of the Lake, Montay is ready to be accountable—well, as much as he can, because we all know he needs a bit more guidance—and Ferah is being wonderful Ferah, but I think she needs more time to reconsider her role within the Council of Peacekeepers, going forward. It’s good to see brother and sister reunited, and I think there’s opportunity here for both Council and Brotherhood, and a few of the other world-affiliated bodies, to support them spending additional time together growing stronger as a team.”

“Rather long-winded response, Plangeduc, but I agree with you,” mused Elinorth, stroking her favorite chin hair and the two new that were growing quite long and healthy, begging to be braided, and after some time she continued thoughtfully, “I’ll see what I can shuffle around to make room for this new direction.”

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2026)

Watcher Doings 44                         

(The Prompt word is again SHUFFLE)         

Both Montay and Ferah had spent months cleansing themselves in the bay—even traveling so far north that they crossed into the shipping channels; it amused the two to eavesdrop in on the startled cries of the ships’ captains and first mates when legendary creatures showed up on their radars and the signal shuffled and disappeared suddenly.

Jimann had expanded Montay’s “vocabulary” of shapes and the siblings explored—merfolk to whale, eldritch to giant snail—while the Council of Peacekeepers and the Fae Council of Liminal Balance (FCLB) looked the other way, reasoning that a bit of mystery—and terror!—in the Big Lake could be a vital tool for keeping humans in check from completely destroying the world.

***

By now the lake had frozen over between the cluster of islands, and Montay and Ferah spent their days considering the scars and lingering scent of iron burns that would never completely leave their bodies; as they considered, they ran the length of the cottage’s island, crossing to other islands in the shapes of bear and wolf and climbing the skies as eagles and bright-eyed birds that preferred the cover of trees.

And on this particularly bone-cracking cold evening, the two waited in the cottage for Plangeduc, Sangfroid, Redrue, Rockmouse, and Fernlodth to arrive from the mainland by wind sled, as the ferries were frozen in for the season.

A fire had been banked in the cottage’s central hearth, its embers snapping sharp when another log was added, and the heady, homey scent of several pans of Tater Tot Hotdish filled the air, several baskets of blueberry muffins and a single bowl brimming with clementines adding to the complexity of the fragrance.

And for now at least, they all lived happily ever after.

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2026)