Pentober 2026 - Day 13: Chain

Ok so, what is Pentober? Promptober? It's a writing tradition that's been around the web for a while where you write up a short story every day in October based on prompts. Some go for pen and paper, some digital; everyone has their own style. I'll be posting here, and I'll be using the prompts from https://www.topinfiction.com/p/pentober-2026 

House rules are that I vomit-write the story; no planning, just taka taka taka on the keys. I get ONE edit at the end of the draft (if I even have time, lol), then we post it. House rules also say that I get to play catch up and do multiple days separately on one day or combined if work gets wild and I can't write. Get it? Got it? Good! Here we go.

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"Do you know why we wear iron chain mail under the chem suit, son?"

Dael looked up at Brynden, his mentor and group leader for five years now. Brynden was only 23 but looked much older. In fact, Brynden did look old enough to be Dael's father, even though they were only six years apart. It was hard to read Brynden's expression under the plastic visor and chain mail, so Dael assumed it was a serious question. It might be one he needed to answer in order to pass from Apprentice to Faecraft.

"Because it links us back to the knights of the past, who wore chain mail and used iron weapons when beating back the fae?"

Brynden didn't respond immediately, he let the quiet sink in long enough to make Dael question his answer more than he already was.

"That is what some of the legends say, but it's inaccurate. The science is more practical than the ancients knew, in fact. Fae are beings of chaos. They're unstable. As such, they're drawn to unstable elements, people, and areas. So, you find them most frequently in areas rife with nuclear fallout or natural radiation. In fact, when they rift into this world, it does create a spike of fissile material. With the way the world went, well," Brynden gestured to the landscape before them, a vast swathe of dried out and cratered lower plains below the mesa they were camped on, "Now the fae can appear pretty much everywhere war touched."

He paused again, waiting to see if Dael made the connection in his head so he could prompt the apprentice to say it out loud. Seeing no such thought, he continued, "Iron is one of the more stable elements out there. Fae hate it. They can barely touch it without dying. We wear the chem suit to slow the damage the radiation does. We wear iron to deter the fae from tearing through the chem suit and, when they do, giving us a fighting chance to keep fending them off. It's why we carry iron daggers, too."

"Are the bullets iron?"

"No they are standard issue. The fae don't seem to have much in the way of technological development. The magic is still beyond us, obviously; but they have less of an answer to birdshot than they did bows and arrows. Eat leaden death, I guess."

"And tomorrow we're going down there?"

"Once the rest of the squadrons arrive."

"Why was this place so badly hit?"

"It had a lot of missile silos and military bases, important grazing land and farmland. It was valuable, back then."

"Like the Valley regions back home?"

"Very similar, yes."

"What's the plan again?"

Brynden pulled out a tablet and began to go through the concept again, "There's a cluster of fae portals down in the valley. This higher area is relatively safe from them. The high winds blow away the uranium dust. We're going to go down there and slowly make a decontamination pathway to the cluster. There, we'll try treating it with a new liquid iron spray that should close up the portals, or make them undesirable to go through, while we decontaminate the cluster. Some of us will be on overwatch to stop anything coming through the portal. Should be about a five day trip all in."

"Ok. I get it. I'm on shovel duty?"

"Gotta learn how to decontaminate before you can learn to banish. You'll get to practice more with the bayonet and repeating shotgun soon enough. Another year or so. Work on your lessons and your labor. Strong mind, strong body." Brynden patted him on the shoulder and got up to walk back to the assembling horde further in on the mesa.

Dael stopped for a moment to look at one of the high-mesa spruce trees growing nearby. There was a mushroom growing near it. This was one of his lessons. He thought for a moment. Amanita muscaria was the name; it was the classic red and white toadstool. Not good for eating at all; they could cause hallucinations. He knew it was his duty to cut it out, dig up as much of the 'roots' as possible, and pour some poison into the hole. He got to work immediately.

"Hello," Dael heard from behind, "Might I see what you're doing?"

Without looking up Dael responded, "Yeah, sure. You must be really new; what are you doing out here? It's a mushroom the fae like. I'm getting rid of it."

"I'm not new. I'm old. I'm very old."

Dael turned to look in the direction of the voice. He simply saw the sky and the mesa, rippling slightly in the shape of a body, with clouds contorted to look like a set of rabbit eyes and a fox mouth.

"Brynden!" Dael shouted out. He looked and he couldn't see anyone. He turned back to face the foe and saw patches of the sky turn into purple, white, and orange harlequin pattern. The pattern stepped forward into something between a human, a hare, and a coyote. He couldn't see where the mesa ended in any direction.

"Can you see me now?"

"Yeah, duh."

Shot ripped out from somewhere out of sight and tore chunks off of the fae; it screamed as wounds hissed green steam.

"You'll see me now then."

In half a blink, Dael was in a different place entirely, sat in a chair, bound. It was some sort of office. A door opened, and the fae walked in with a clip-board.

"You made it to our appointment, excellent. I have some questions about your plans that I'll need you to answer. If you won't answer, we'll have to find something else for you to do; do you understand? Are you certain I can't take your jacket?"

Dael knew not to agree, not to answer, not to speak. He saw that he was in a jacket and slacks, but he knew that must be an illusion. For all he knew, he didn't know what to do. All he knew is that he, thankfully, still had on his chem suit and chains. He was safe for now, wherever and whenever he was.