Blank Slate
Short Story By Michael Quevedo
Excerpt #1

Edge of Humanity Magazine

9 hours ago

Set in an isolated kingdom ruled by a vindictive, theocratic regime, Blank Slate follows a diverse cast including a grizzled mercenary, a devious minstrel, a rogue knight-errant, and a heretical nun. In the face of oppression these unlikely companions must fight to survive–and to make sense of the strange and demonic entity that links them together ever more strongly with each passing season.

“I’ll take you to the dungeon at Bridgeport,” he said, softly. “As my prisoner. As a Templar of the Third Circle, it is my right and duty to see you personally into the prison without trial and without record, to be prepared for execution.”

“And then you fuck off, and I’m left to rot until the Church sees fit to pour hot lead up my ass. So far, not loving your plan, choir boy.”

He didn’t shoot me. Instead, he held up a hand, with a slightly-strained expression. I wanted to punch that look off his face.

“When I leave you in the prison, I will leave you with a knife and the key to your cell. At the stroke of six in the morning, before the guards come to collect you for execution, I will cause a diversion in the courtyard, forcing every Templar to take their positions, defending the entrances and exits.” Aidan paused. “You will escape…and take our prisoner with you.”

“Go on.” I folded my arms. I could feel the lass in my head not-quite asking questions.

“Bridgeport is a fortress,” the Templar said, softly. “Fighting our way out would be impossible. But,” His eyes flicked over the forest behind me, as if scanning for listening ears. Foolish. No living mortal could listen to our conversation here. We might as well have been on the moon. “There is a way out. The dungeon is on the same level as the armory, and with it, the smithy where our regalia is forged. In the smithy, there is a trapdoor where the artisans draw water from the Runing.”

“So you want me to fight my way to a forge full of soldiers, then jump two hundred feet into water as cold as death’s asshole.”

He shrugged.

Excerpt From

Blank Slate

Written By

Michael Quevedo

Michael Quevedo is a Mexican-American author with wide-ranging interests in fields from astronomy to anthropology. He has lived in many parts of the United States, but retains an especial fondness for the ecosystems of the Pacific and New England coastal regions. An endlessly curious writer with a broad and rigorous philosophical background and an idiosyncratically anticolonial approach to fun and florid fiction, he has been writing since the age of 11, and is always delighted to present his newest project to a wider audience.

Text © Michael Quevedo