Retrovintagenostalgia
Image by Rob Oo

Keeping things simple is hard for me. I always want to overcomplicate things, especially with prompts like these:

  • Character: Sailor
  • Object: Thumbtack
  • Genre/Tone: Fantasy/Mystery

But keeping things simple is the key to actually completing a story in this exercise. And I think I did okay, especially given the “mystery” aspect, though I’m not sure I managed to make clear enough how the magic worked. Obviously, it could stand some editing; but I think it’s not bad for a first draft.

Let me know if you think this works as a story, or if you see holes in it. And if you want to try your hand at these prompts, please put the results in the comments, or link to wherever you post it!


The deck rolled under Tyrell’s feet. From the loll of the waves and the smell of the air, he could tell that a storm was coming, though it was far off enough that they might dodge it before it hit them. The sea itself was enough to tell him; he didn’t need an oceaomancer to tell him what the sea would do.

That was good, because the ship’s oceaomancer lay dead, face down on the deck of her cabin. Tyrell turned to Captain Gren, who stood next to him. Before Tyrell could speak, Gren said, “I want this explained before anyone on the crew finds out. I want answers.”

Tyrell was the first officer, and understood why Gren wanted a quick and clear resolution: a ship without an oceaomancer was subject to all the whims of nature, and vulnerable to pirates as well. If the crew knew, they might mutiny. If it was foul play, the ship might be compromised already. But the only unusual thing about the oceaomancer’s quarters—apart from the dead body itself—was the thumbtack stuck into the mage’s thumb. After Gren left, that’s where he started. There was almost no blood around the tack, so the tack itself hadn’t killed her. Probably had been placed after her death, but why anyone would do that was beyond Tyrell’s ability to guess. He searched her body: as far as he could tell, nothing had been stolen, and she had no other wounds. He searched the cabin. The oceaomancer wasn’t the tidiest sailor in the world, so it was impossible to tell if anything had been disturbed. The portholes were sealed, and the door had been locked, at least so said Captain Gren.

Could it be possible that Gren herself would have killed the oceaomancer? Unlikely; the captain would know better than any the disadvantage it would impose on the ship. So, with no suspects and no cause apparent, Tyrell returned to the only unusual thing in the room: the thumbtack stuck in the thumb, as if someone had misunderstood how thumbtacks were supposed to work. Well, he might as well see if anything were on or under the tack. Maybe it was poisoned or had some other property that he couldn’t see. So he put a glove on his hand and carefully wiggled the thumbtack out of her flesh.

The oceaomancer’s whole body shuddered and she rolled away from him, her eyes wide open and her nostrils flaring with rage, or maybe with embarrassment.

“Who else knows?” she snapped.

“You’re alive!” Tyrell blinked and then registered her question. “Sorry, the Captain is the only—”

“Give me the tack. I should’ve known better than to handle it without gloves.”

He handed it to her, and she stood, then placed it carefully on a small model of their ship. Almost immediately, the deck ceased to roll under their feet. Indeed, Tyrell could tell from the way the planks of the deck hummed that the ship had picked up speed.

The oceaomancer turned to Tyrell, still looking a little abashed. “Thank you,” she said.

“Just doing my duty.” He saluted her, and left to inform the captain.

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