I wrote this on a whim. It was one of those moments in which I felt I absolutely had to write something, but I didn't know what to write. This is fiction, not to be confused with how I feel in any way. I wanted to invoke emotions, but I wasn't quite sure which emotions I wanted the reader to feel.
The end result was mostly confusion. Still, here, have a drabble.
She studies her painted toenails with all the aplomb of a statue until her eyes glaze over and she has to blink to refocus.
The quiet isn't what she came for, but she can't help but seek it out. She's been on her own for so long now that hearing the daily noises of other people is both odd and slightly unnerving and she almost wants to go find them and tell them to shut up and get out of her house, but it's not her place to say that. She loves those noises because they remind her that she's no longer alone and that she took the time and the money to see the people she loves. Although not just to alleviate the loneliness, but it was a big part of it.
But she's tired. They're selfish feelings and still it's good to be cared for. She never takes care of herself because it doesn't mean nearly as much when you try to tuck yourself in or make a bowl of soup.
She's weak and sickly and they know it. Keeping her warm and making her eat before she passes out means more. She clings to it because it's her own fault and their actions don't make her feel the slightest bit guilty and she doesn't know how much more guilt she can push away.
Life, however, is about making your own choices and even at nearly twenty-one she considers people she no longer lives with or is accountable to. But it's all selfishness because she can't make decisions for herself any better than she can stay healthy for more than a month.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Shatter Piece
Okay, new NaNo novel that I suddenly decided to start and now have 23k on.
It's called Shatter Piece and it's a mix of Irish and Welsh Mythology with a bit of Norse Mythology sprinkled in for flavor.
It's about a girl named Sirame who, after the mysterious death of her parents, discovers that she's a Banshee and full-blooded Sidhe.
Twelve years later the gates to the Otherworld have opened and the Sidhe royalty is asking for all the young Sidhe who grew up outside of Tir Na Og to return and learn to wish their magick to fight the war against the Demons.
But is the enemy really who they seem to be? And why does it feel as if someone else is pulling the strings?
It's about chess. Specifically a type of chess known as Circe Chess which has some pretty cool rules.
I made my own rule based on one of the Circe Chess rules.
It's called a Shatter Piece (yes, the title).
In Circe Chess the pieces circulate, meaning once they die, they can reappear on the board during the player's next full turn. The pawns must reappear in a pawn space, but the other pieces reappear (or respawn if you play too many video games) on the space they were killed.
A Shatter Piece is when a pawn has been crowned and then dies on a pawn square. Both the pawn and a new queen piece are in a sense "shattered". A Shatter Piece can grant two queens to the player.
A Shatter Piece Check is when one or both of those pieces places the king in check.
Writing this has given me a newfound love for the game of chess, which is played haphazardly when I was younger. I'm based chapter titles off the moves of a game played by a grandmaster.
It's all pretty crazy even if the novel itself doesn't actually seem as if it's so complicated.
It's really, at the heart of it all, just about a girl discovering who she really is and the difference between good, evil, and the gray areas.
It's hard to post an excerpt when it's a bit confusing unless you read it from the beginning, but here's a little something:
“Ame! Grandmother's here!”
The small ten year old with chestnut curls jumped up from where she'd been playing in the dirt. She wiped her muddy hands on the floral spring dress she was wearing and smoothed the curls from her forehead before calling, “Coming mum!”
She tore through the blooming gardens, and flung open the kitchen back door to the three story Victorian style manor with relish as she shrieked, “Grammy!”
Her beloved grandmother's blue eyes sparkled. “Sirame, darling! Have you been digging in the garden again?”
“Of course! Mum planted white coral bells! Like the ones in the song!”
The girl's grandmother smiled as the little girl began to sing:
“White coral bells
Upon a slender stalk
Lilies of the Valley deck my garden walk.
Oh don't you wish
That you could hear them ring
That will happen only when the fairies sing!”
“Very good, Sirame! But you know you won't find fairies by digging in the dirt! Go change and wash up before your mother sees you.”
The very next day, Sirame went to stay with her Aunt and Uncle as her father, mother, and grandmother left for Ireland. “It's only for a week.” Grandmother soothed. “We'll be home before you know it.”
“But who will find the fairies with me?” Sirame begged with big teary eyes.
“Sweetie, you know what the song says.” her grandmother pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with roses that smelled of soft perfume which she used to dab at the girl's tears. “Just watch the flowers. The fairies can't resist white coral bells. When the bell rings that's when you'll find your fairies.”
The girl nodded and her grandmother pressed the sweet smelling handkerchief into her hand. “If you miss me, then just smell this and it will be like I'm there with you.”
Six days later, when Sirame let loose a haunting keening and knew her family was dead, she never noticed that the white coral bells began to ring.
It's called Shatter Piece and it's a mix of Irish and Welsh Mythology with a bit of Norse Mythology sprinkled in for flavor.
It's about a girl named Sirame who, after the mysterious death of her parents, discovers that she's a Banshee and full-blooded Sidhe.
Twelve years later the gates to the Otherworld have opened and the Sidhe royalty is asking for all the young Sidhe who grew up outside of Tir Na Og to return and learn to wish their magick to fight the war against the Demons.
But is the enemy really who they seem to be? And why does it feel as if someone else is pulling the strings?
It's about chess. Specifically a type of chess known as Circe Chess which has some pretty cool rules.
I made my own rule based on one of the Circe Chess rules.
It's called a Shatter Piece (yes, the title).
In Circe Chess the pieces circulate, meaning once they die, they can reappear on the board during the player's next full turn. The pawns must reappear in a pawn space, but the other pieces reappear (or respawn if you play too many video games) on the space they were killed.
A Shatter Piece is when a pawn has been crowned and then dies on a pawn square. Both the pawn and a new queen piece are in a sense "shattered". A Shatter Piece can grant two queens to the player.
A Shatter Piece Check is when one or both of those pieces places the king in check.
Writing this has given me a newfound love for the game of chess, which is played haphazardly when I was younger. I'm based chapter titles off the moves of a game played by a grandmaster.
It's all pretty crazy even if the novel itself doesn't actually seem as if it's so complicated.
It's really, at the heart of it all, just about a girl discovering who she really is and the difference between good, evil, and the gray areas.
It's hard to post an excerpt when it's a bit confusing unless you read it from the beginning, but here's a little something:
“Ame! Grandmother's here!”
The small ten year old with chestnut curls jumped up from where she'd been playing in the dirt. She wiped her muddy hands on the floral spring dress she was wearing and smoothed the curls from her forehead before calling, “Coming mum!”
She tore through the blooming gardens, and flung open the kitchen back door to the three story Victorian style manor with relish as she shrieked, “Grammy!”
Her beloved grandmother's blue eyes sparkled. “Sirame, darling! Have you been digging in the garden again?”
“Of course! Mum planted white coral bells! Like the ones in the song!”
The girl's grandmother smiled as the little girl began to sing:
“White coral bells
Upon a slender stalk
Lilies of the Valley deck my garden walk.
Oh don't you wish
That you could hear them ring
That will happen only when the fairies sing!”
“Very good, Sirame! But you know you won't find fairies by digging in the dirt! Go change and wash up before your mother sees you.”
The very next day, Sirame went to stay with her Aunt and Uncle as her father, mother, and grandmother left for Ireland. “It's only for a week.” Grandmother soothed. “We'll be home before you know it.”
“But who will find the fairies with me?” Sirame begged with big teary eyes.
“Sweetie, you know what the song says.” her grandmother pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with roses that smelled of soft perfume which she used to dab at the girl's tears. “Just watch the flowers. The fairies can't resist white coral bells. When the bell rings that's when you'll find your fairies.”
The girl nodded and her grandmother pressed the sweet smelling handkerchief into her hand. “If you miss me, then just smell this and it will be like I'm there with you.”
Six days later, when Sirame let loose a haunting keening and knew her family was dead, she never noticed that the white coral bells began to ring.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Pearl Shade Cover
So, here's the cover for my NaNo novel. I needed to do something to bring the inspiration. This works perfectly.
Not too much has happened in the novel...Lenora is in Atlantis. I wrote a lot of random stuff at like one in the morning.
In other news that's not about my story...well there really is none.
I rather enjoy being an analyst. I may dislike the desert, but the mountains are quite spectacular!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
NaNoWriMo
It's nearly that time again! What time? Why NaNoWriMo time, my friend! http://www.nanowrimo.org/ Go here for more info!
In a nutshell, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is a crazy fun, self-paced race to write 50k in just 30 days. The basis is, if you can just get the story down on paper (regardless of quality) then you've already won half the writing battle ("And knowing is half the battle!"). Most writers it seems, myself included, have a problem with just finishing the initial draft of the story. But if you can just get it all out there, then you've jumped the first hurdle. After that, you're free to edit to your heart's content.
I first attempted (and won) NaNo back in 2006. My story was called Measure of a Mortal. It's the second full length story I've ever finished in my life.
Yeah, the story sucked. I mean, it was pretty awful. But it was great fun to challenge myself and keep writing even when I thought I'd wrung my imagination dry.
I didn't get to NaNo it out in 2007 due to military obligations, but this year my calendar is (mostly) free and I'm going to go for the gold!
What do you win? Nothing but satisfaction...well...and your name on a long list of winners, but trust me, the satisfaction is a great prize.
And in 2006 Lulu Self-Publishing was offering one free copy of the winner's completed NaNo novel.
Yeah, even if Measure of a Mortal is a crazy bit of purple prose, it sits proudly upon my shelf with my name emblazoned across the cover.
That, is quite seriously, always the best feeling in the world to see my name on a book.
It really helps on those days that I'm just down in the dumps. That and the fact that the story makes me laugh every time I read it.
Anyway! This year I'm going to writing Pearl Shade. In NaNo you're allowed an outline and some notes ahead of time, but the very first sentence of your novel gets written at midnight on Nov 1st...Oct 31st kinda. 0001 if you're military.
NaNoWriMo = Writing Happiness
In a nutshell, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is a crazy fun, self-paced race to write 50k in just 30 days. The basis is, if you can just get the story down on paper (regardless of quality) then you've already won half the writing battle ("And knowing is half the battle!"). Most writers it seems, myself included, have a problem with just finishing the initial draft of the story. But if you can just get it all out there, then you've jumped the first hurdle. After that, you're free to edit to your heart's content.
I first attempted (and won) NaNo back in 2006. My story was called Measure of a Mortal. It's the second full length story I've ever finished in my life.
Yeah, the story sucked. I mean, it was pretty awful. But it was great fun to challenge myself and keep writing even when I thought I'd wrung my imagination dry.
I didn't get to NaNo it out in 2007 due to military obligations, but this year my calendar is (mostly) free and I'm going to go for the gold!
What do you win? Nothing but satisfaction...well...and your name on a long list of winners, but trust me, the satisfaction is a great prize.
And in 2006 Lulu Self-Publishing was offering one free copy of the winner's completed NaNo novel.
Yeah, even if Measure of a Mortal is a crazy bit of purple prose, it sits proudly upon my shelf with my name emblazoned across the cover.
That, is quite seriously, always the best feeling in the world to see my name on a book.
It really helps on those days that I'm just down in the dumps. That and the fact that the story makes me laugh every time I read it.
Anyway! This year I'm going to writing Pearl Shade. In NaNo you're allowed an outline and some notes ahead of time, but the very first sentence of your novel gets written at midnight on Nov 1st...Oct 31st kinda. 0001 if you're military.
NaNoWriMo = Writing Happiness
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Blackthorn
EDIT: GAAAAAH! Screw proper spacing. Blogger hates me. Alright. Sorry, ya'll have to look at an annoying giant block of text. I tried. Sorry.
EDIT AGAIN: I feel it might be important to stress that Ana ISN'T a necrophiliac. Okay? Yeah.
So in effort to understand the Mage Wars and some of my characters I have realized I need to revamp the timeline somewhat. I originally had the Mage Wars lasting for over fifty years or so before Z sealed the wraiths and Keleo disappeared. However, the timeline is going to shrink a bit.
So now, I have Keleo making the stones about 50 (52-ish) odd some years before Ana arrives in Mycp. About. I need to redo the timeline.
Anyway, this is going to be the story of the downfall of the Mages basically. Told most from Gavin's POV. Ana's real parents are in it, as well as her first set of adopted parents.
Yes, Gavin is much MUCH older than Ana. Heck, he's only three years younger than her first adopted father. However, before you tell me how creepy and weird I am, although Gavin is chronologically about 48 when Ana first meets him, due to what Keleo does to him, the poor boy is really only between 25 and 28. It's a little hard to age when you're dead. Opps, I can't give everything away yet!
To further add to the creepiness, Gavin will likely be meeting a baby Ana. Cause I'm a loon like that!
Anyway! I'm doing this to mostly understand what happens before Ana gets there. And I really need to figure out who Gavin was before Keleo brainwashed him. It might make it easier to write him.
For further "in case you were curious and even if you're not" information:
Gavin's father is half Arnog, half mage. Gavin's mother is just a mage. Because of the Arnog blood, Gavin's magick is less diluted than most mages, making him more powerful. Gavin's family is one of three families with this purer blood. And as a hint I'll tell you that Ana's birth parents come from one of the other families.
Okay, so here is the short first chater of Blackthorn
I
EDIT AGAIN: I feel it might be important to stress that Ana ISN'T a necrophiliac. Okay? Yeah.
So in effort to understand the Mage Wars and some of my characters I have realized I need to revamp the timeline somewhat. I originally had the Mage Wars lasting for over fifty years or so before Z sealed the wraiths and Keleo disappeared. However, the timeline is going to shrink a bit.
So now, I have Keleo making the stones about 50 (52-ish) odd some years before Ana arrives in Mycp. About. I need to redo the timeline.
Anyway, this is going to be the story of the downfall of the Mages basically. Told most from Gavin's POV. Ana's real parents are in it, as well as her first set of adopted parents.
Yes, Gavin is much MUCH older than Ana. Heck, he's only three years younger than her first adopted father. However, before you tell me how creepy and weird I am, although Gavin is chronologically about 48 when Ana first meets him, due to what Keleo does to him, the poor boy is really only between 25 and 28. It's a little hard to age when you're dead. Opps, I can't give everything away yet!
To further add to the creepiness, Gavin will likely be meeting a baby Ana. Cause I'm a loon like that!
Anyway! I'm doing this to mostly understand what happens before Ana gets there. And I really need to figure out who Gavin was before Keleo brainwashed him. It might make it easier to write him.
For further "in case you were curious and even if you're not" information:
Gavin's father is half Arnog, half mage. Gavin's mother is just a mage. Because of the Arnog blood, Gavin's magick is less diluted than most mages, making him more powerful. Gavin's family is one of three families with this purer blood. And as a hint I'll tell you that Ana's birth parents come from one of the other families.
Okay, so here is the short first chater of Blackthorn
I
Dear Gavin,
It has been far too long. I must insist that you quit your ridiculous studies and come home this instant. In your absence, mother has decided that I shall be married by the end of the year just as soon as I make my official debut in Calgary. The new king shall be there and mother is convinced that once he sees me, the king will fall hopelessly in love with me. I hate to tell her that I have absolutely no aim to become queen, but mother would never listen.
It has been far too long. I must insist that you quit your ridiculous studies and come home this instant. In your absence, mother has decided that I shall be married by the end of the year just as soon as I make my official debut in Calgary. The new king shall be there and mother is convinced that once he sees me, the king will fall hopelessly in love with me. I hate to tell her that I have absolutely no aim to become queen, but mother would never listen.
You must come home. I am overcome by scores of giggling servants and an equally absurd mother. Per usual, father rarely comes out of his study and would likely never involve himself in the affairs of mere women. I miss your quick wit and more importantly I long for your rational conversation.
I beg you, if you love me at all, you must abandon your studies and come rescue me from my fate of lace, hairpins, and simpering fools.
All My Love,
Yelane
Yelane
Eighteen year old Gavin smiled fondly at his younger sister's note. He knew for all her complaints Yelane did not hate her fate overly much. She had been given the choice to attend the practicum with him and had refused. Yelane took too much after their mother and her magickal abilities were limited to mere illusions and—if she concentrated enough—some shield spells.
Besides, Yelane had to represent the family name at the social functions. His father never went out and barely left his study and their mother was simply too weak since her last bout with the fevers.
It was the curse of carrying the Blackthorn name.
Gavin had tasted only a bit of the curse during his studies. His professors expected him to be as gifted as his father. Gavin was indeed gifted and had been hailed by many as a genius in the field of Alchemy. But then, he supposed it came with the blood of being part Arnog and part Mage. His magick was less diluted than most. Unfortunately, alchemy was less flashy than his father's destructive magick.
Gavin sighed. He simply could not please everyone. And today, his own sister had to suffer the consequences of his rigorous study. Gavin just did not have the time to return home for a quick visit.
Fumbling through a pile of ink-stained sheets of parchment, Gavin found a mostly clean piece and began writing.
Yelane Blackthorn scowled at her reflection in the looking glass. The dress was a confection of silk, lace, and pearls in shades of pale blue and gray. She supposed the dress complimented her pale complexion and golden hair, but thoughts of the stuffy ball pushed any pleasure a pretty dress might conjure straight from her mind. “Oh my darling! You look enchanting! The King will not be able to take his eyes from you!”
And that settled the matter in Yelane's mind. The dress was a spawn straight from the Dark Gates and later she would burn it. “Thank you, mother.” Yelane replied dully.
Lady Blackthorn had likely been very beautiful in her youth and she still retained her exotic pale blonde hair and violet eyes, but the look was dulled by a distinct weariness. She had fought against the fevers for nearly ten years now and each episode took a toll on her. She coughed daintily into he lacy handkerchief and smiled at her daughter.
To most, the Lady Blackthorn appeared to be a happy—albeit tired—oblivious sort of woman who was better suited as arm candy than as a conversationalist, but that had not always been. Lady Blackthorn was careful and calculating, even if the fevers had taken the worst of her disposition from her. She was dead set on having her only daughter become the next queen. It was her dying wish one could say. But Yelane was too much like her father and brother, even if she lacked their genius.
“Lord Mayborne will be arriving to pick you up soon.” Lady Blackthorn reminded her daughter.
Yelane's pretty face twisted in disgust, but she did not vocalize her displeasure. “You do not like him, darling?” her mother asked sweetly.
“He is...” Yelane paused to choose her words. “Self-absorbed. I can only take him listing his virtues for so long.”
Lady Blackthorn offered her daughter a practiced vapid smile. “But darling, it is hardly bragging when one is speaking the truth. Were the king not available, I would have you marry Lord Mayborne. He is such a nice boy after all.”
If Yelane noticed her mother's duplicity she did not give anything away. Instead she offered her mother an unladylike shrug of her silken shoulders and settled back to scowling at her reflection.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Rated MA...as in Massively Absurd
Really, this excerpt is rated G. Or F, for freakishly fluffy. Don't worry. Nothing more than Gavin attempting to be all dashing and understanding and failing miserably.
Look! More pointless romanctic fluff between Ana and Gavin!
Okay, this scene is random and will likely never make it into any of the novels, but it does portray Gavin's character fairly well.
This little bit makes me giggle like a manic school girl! It's ridiculously ridiculous! Yay!
Yeah, I know. I'm still sick and drugged up. I can finally get away with being silly and girly. Sssssshhh! You never read that!
A good portion of magic was mathematics. Especially alchemy. Being more science than magic it certainly required above average mathematical abilities.
But Gavin had never really considered that. He’d always liked numbers. They were simple, easy to use, and required only fact, not feeling. Alchemical theories and laws were really the only truths he could count on. Keleo had no reason to tamper with the scholastic facts in his mind so his only true memories were long lists of numbers and signs. And of course, because it was the only thing he could know for certain, he translated these facts into situations that would otherwise require emotion.
Which was why he was currently reciting all one hundred and fifteen alchemical signs used in spells pertaining to distress to an obvious upset Ana.
He’d discovered her curled in a corner of the library, his library actually, sniffling softly. Upon asking her what the problem was and finding she couldn’t speak due to her distress, he sat down beside her and waited for her sobs to abate.
There was a very uncomfortable silence during which Gavin came to a new fact: Ana’s distress was not a good thing and something must be done about it. After all, she was the future queen and history made it awfully clear that angry or distressed queens were not capable of properly ruling their kingdoms.
So he dredged up the random bits of “emotion lessons” Elwood had been imparting to him and came to the conclusion that whenever a woman cried, she was to be comforted—the word had been suitably referenced in the dictionary for further enlightenment—by having someone’s arms around her as that someone whispered something to cease her tears.
In theory it worked fairly easily. Step by step like an spell or a formula. In real life however, it wasn’t so simple. He had started out correctly. He moved a bit closer and placed his arms around her trembling shoulders, pulling her nearer to him until her head hit his chest and her tears began to soak his shirt. But the only thing Gavin knew that could cease distress was a list of Alchemic potions that pertained to distress. So he began softly reciting them. And unfortunately, it wasn’t working. She was still making his shirt damp.
“Queen Ana,” he finally said a bit louder. “I have recited all the potions concerning distress that I know of. Why are you still crying?”
Ana wiggled in his grasp to look up at him. “Why did it take you so long to ask?”
Gavin blinked. “I was supposed to ask?”
“Yes, you dolt!”
“I was informed that imparting comforting words was one of the steps to lessen your distress.”
She blinked up at him and simply stared for a very long moment and then, suddenly, she laughed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Thank you for trying, Gavin.”
“Would you still like me to ask you why you were crying?”
“No, it’s alright. I feel a lot better now. Thank you.”
So he let her go and watched her smile up at him. And people said the numbers he studied were complex. He was inclined to begin telling them that women and emotions were far more complicated than any four page discourse concerning an advanced theoretical potion could ever be.
Look! More pointless romanctic fluff between Ana and Gavin!
Okay, this scene is random and will likely never make it into any of the novels, but it does portray Gavin's character fairly well.
This little bit makes me giggle like a manic school girl! It's ridiculously ridiculous! Yay!
Yeah, I know. I'm still sick and drugged up. I can finally get away with being silly and girly. Sssssshhh! You never read that!
***
A good portion of magic was mathematics. Especially alchemy. Being more science than magic it certainly required above average mathematical abilities.
But Gavin had never really considered that. He’d always liked numbers. They were simple, easy to use, and required only fact, not feeling. Alchemical theories and laws were really the only truths he could count on. Keleo had no reason to tamper with the scholastic facts in his mind so his only true memories were long lists of numbers and signs. And of course, because it was the only thing he could know for certain, he translated these facts into situations that would otherwise require emotion.
Which was why he was currently reciting all one hundred and fifteen alchemical signs used in spells pertaining to distress to an obvious upset Ana.
He’d discovered her curled in a corner of the library, his library actually, sniffling softly. Upon asking her what the problem was and finding she couldn’t speak due to her distress, he sat down beside her and waited for her sobs to abate.
There was a very uncomfortable silence during which Gavin came to a new fact: Ana’s distress was not a good thing and something must be done about it. After all, she was the future queen and history made it awfully clear that angry or distressed queens were not capable of properly ruling their kingdoms.
So he dredged up the random bits of “emotion lessons” Elwood had been imparting to him and came to the conclusion that whenever a woman cried, she was to be comforted—the word had been suitably referenced in the dictionary for further enlightenment—by having someone’s arms around her as that someone whispered something to cease her tears.
In theory it worked fairly easily. Step by step like an spell or a formula. In real life however, it wasn’t so simple. He had started out correctly. He moved a bit closer and placed his arms around her trembling shoulders, pulling her nearer to him until her head hit his chest and her tears began to soak his shirt. But the only thing Gavin knew that could cease distress was a list of Alchemic potions that pertained to distress. So he began softly reciting them. And unfortunately, it wasn’t working. She was still making his shirt damp.
“Queen Ana,” he finally said a bit louder. “I have recited all the potions concerning distress that I know of. Why are you still crying?”
Ana wiggled in his grasp to look up at him. “Why did it take you so long to ask?”
Gavin blinked. “I was supposed to ask?”
“Yes, you dolt!”
“I was informed that imparting comforting words was one of the steps to lessen your distress.”
She blinked up at him and simply stared for a very long moment and then, suddenly, she laughed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Thank you for trying, Gavin.”
“Would you still like me to ask you why you were crying?”
“No, it’s alright. I feel a lot better now. Thank you.”
So he let her go and watched her smile up at him. And people said the numbers he studied were complex. He was inclined to begin telling them that women and emotions were far more complicated than any four page discourse concerning an advanced theoretical potion could ever be.
The Creative Aspects of Strep Throat
Well, it only took five days to get a doctor's appt. What good is free health care is there's no one around to see you? So I go in and tell the Captain, "My throat is really swollen to the point I feel like I'm choking, I think I'm running a fever, and I'm really, really exhausted. Oh yeah and my tongue is so coated it's nearly white."
She takes a look at my mouth and says, "Well, your tonsils are the size of golf balls and you've most certainly got strep throat."
I could have told her that! Sheesh. I mean, she was really nice and all, but yeah, already knew that. Still, she gave me some meds and told me to go on quarters (offically calling in sick for military folks...like, 'you go to work and you'll be in violation for THIS MANY military laws!'.
So yeah, after sleeping the whole day away, I finally managed to get my butt outta bed long enough to eat something and then I felt the surprisingly "PING!" of inspiration hitting me.
So I wanted to write this random scene with Ana having tea with Gavin, which was going to be adorably awkward because Gavin isn't exactly the type to sit down to tea, nibble sandwiches, and make small talk with Queen Ana, even if he is ridiculously in love with her.
Side note: I love Gavin. He's one of my favorite male characters ever! During the first few drafts he was a weirdo with severe male PMS issues. Then I had the great idea to make him a brainwashed, emotionless, robotic type weirdo. Which made more sense because Keleo totally messed the kid up to create the perfect Mage assassin. It also made it more funny for the very emotional Ana to fall in love with him.
And now, I'm not making sense. Forgive me, I'm rather drugged up at the moment.
The whole point was to post this little random scene that was supposed to make me feel better.
Okay, I'm not posting the scene I just wrote, rather one I wrote about a year or so ago.
Okay, I have to explain something. Ana's left arm isn't real. During the first book spoiler alert: Ana tries to stop the wraith mages from destroying one of the kingdoms with a dark spell she finds in a cursed land. The magic kills on of her friends and she is forced to cut off her arm to stop it. End spoiler. (Highlight to read) The arm she is given is science and magic, created initially by Gavin. Okay, yeah, here's the excerpt. It's corny.
The brilliant emerald silk caught bits of the light and reflected against Ana’s pale skin. For the first time since arriving in Mycp, Ana looked like the Mage Queen. Which was probably a good thing since she was to meet her kingdom for the very first time.
Ana balanced carefully on the little vanity stool and tilted her head this way and that to make sure the crown was solidly fixed into her mounds of curls and hair combs. That done, all that was left was to wait nervously for Winter to come escort her to the grand hall.
Ana tapped her foot against the plush rug in a very nervous fashion. It felt so…odd. She knew that she was the Mage Queen, yes, but she didn’t feel like a queen. She still felt…she fingered the smooth silver of her fake arm…wrong. She had made far too many mistakes. The arm only served to remind her of her worst mistake and greatest temptation. Despite everything the Meholanians and Zervrathaer could do, tendrils of dark magic flowed between the gears and screws of the silver arm. She owed the precise working of her false arm to the very art she was constantly tempted to use. She was no queen. Ana let her forehead fall onto her real hand and sighed.
“Something is wrong?” asked a rumbling bass tone coming from somewhere near the doorway.
Ana looked up and managed a small smile for Gavin. “Just nerves.”
“The nerves in your arm are malfunctioning?”
“Oh no! I’m nerv-ous. I’m worried about what the people will think of me.”
“They will think that you are their queen.” He replied, but sounded almost confused.
Ana sighed. Gavin was only beginning to grasp the complexities of conversation. She knew better than to give such vague answers around him. “Well yes, but I’m afraid that they’ll blame me for all the horrors I caused. As much as I saved them, I’ve also hurt them. I’m worried that they’ll only remembered the times I hurt them. I’m worried they won’t respect me as their queen.”
Gavin quirked an eyebrow; the only outward sign that he was considering her words. After a very long moment, the mage replied with. “Any wrong you have committed is the smallest ripple you have made.”
“What?”
“Lord Elwood was explaining life as liquid ripples to me just an hour ago. The things you have done since coming here have far been out-shadowed by the much larger ripples you made when you defeated Keleo. The ratio of those who remember how you hurt them when you first arrives compared to those who remember who you saved them in the end will more than likely be in the 3:100 range. People will remember, but far less than you worry about.”
“So three out of every one-hundred people will be hard-pressed to respect me?”
“Even if you had never hurt them, they would find a reason to dislike you. You have made ripples in this world. You will be remembered.”
Ana smiled. “I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me happy, but thank you, Gavin.”
The mage nodded stiffly. “May I now complete the mission Lord Winter sent me on?”
“What?”
“I am here to escort you.” He executed a very stiff, but gallant bow and held out his hand for her to take.
She laid her real hand in the proffered palm and he bent to place a feather light kiss on her knuckles. Ana felt heat crowding over her cheeks and remembered Gavin’s strange fascination with making her blush. Gavin raised his head and noticed the blush with a slight quirk of his lips.
“Lord Elwood said that would please you.”
Ana fought the urge to blush again by attempting to lower her body temperature with the small, silver fan she carried. “Um…yes, it does, thank you.”
Gavin took a step forward and halted her fan with a hand on her wrist. “Lord Elwood gave me another bit of advice.” He all but whispered, his breath brushing her cheek and his deep, emotionless voice sending her senses into overdrive.
“W-what was that?” Ana asked a bit breathlessly.
“To tell you that you look very lovely indeed, your majesty.”
Just like that, he drew back and offered her his arm. Ana did not even stop the heat from flooding her cheeks. She was sure she resembled a tomato, but it would just have to do. She missed the smirk that spread across Gavin’s lips. “Shall we view the ripples you have created, your majesty?”
Ana nodded wordlessly. She didn’t care much about the ripples she’d made anymore. All she could think about were the ones he’d created on her life.
Holy crap fluff...I fail at writing romance.
Bla...I have a fever again.
She takes a look at my mouth and says, "Well, your tonsils are the size of golf balls and you've most certainly got strep throat."
I could have told her that! Sheesh. I mean, she was really nice and all, but yeah, already knew that. Still, she gave me some meds and told me to go on quarters (offically calling in sick for military folks...like, 'you go to work and you'll be in violation for THIS MANY military laws!'.
So yeah, after sleeping the whole day away, I finally managed to get my butt outta bed long enough to eat something and then I felt the surprisingly "PING!" of inspiration hitting me.
So I wanted to write this random scene with Ana having tea with Gavin, which was going to be adorably awkward because Gavin isn't exactly the type to sit down to tea, nibble sandwiches, and make small talk with Queen Ana, even if he is ridiculously in love with her.
Side note: I love Gavin. He's one of my favorite male characters ever! During the first few drafts he was a weirdo with severe male PMS issues. Then I had the great idea to make him a brainwashed, emotionless, robotic type weirdo. Which made more sense because Keleo totally messed the kid up to create the perfect Mage assassin. It also made it more funny for the very emotional Ana to fall in love with him.
And now, I'm not making sense. Forgive me, I'm rather drugged up at the moment.
The whole point was to post this little random scene that was supposed to make me feel better.
Okay, I'm not posting the scene I just wrote, rather one I wrote about a year or so ago.
Okay, I have to explain something. Ana's left arm isn't real. During the first book spoiler alert: Ana tries to stop the wraith mages from destroying one of the kingdoms with a dark spell she finds in a cursed land. The magic kills on of her friends and she is forced to cut off her arm to stop it. End spoiler. (Highlight to read) The arm she is given is science and magic, created initially by Gavin. Okay, yeah, here's the excerpt. It's corny.
***
The brilliant emerald silk caught bits of the light and reflected against Ana’s pale skin. For the first time since arriving in Mycp, Ana looked like the Mage Queen. Which was probably a good thing since she was to meet her kingdom for the very first time.
Ana balanced carefully on the little vanity stool and tilted her head this way and that to make sure the crown was solidly fixed into her mounds of curls and hair combs. That done, all that was left was to wait nervously for Winter to come escort her to the grand hall.
Ana tapped her foot against the plush rug in a very nervous fashion. It felt so…odd. She knew that she was the Mage Queen, yes, but she didn’t feel like a queen. She still felt…she fingered the smooth silver of her fake arm…wrong. She had made far too many mistakes. The arm only served to remind her of her worst mistake and greatest temptation. Despite everything the Meholanians and Zervrathaer could do, tendrils of dark magic flowed between the gears and screws of the silver arm. She owed the precise working of her false arm to the very art she was constantly tempted to use. She was no queen. Ana let her forehead fall onto her real hand and sighed.
“Something is wrong?” asked a rumbling bass tone coming from somewhere near the doorway.
Ana looked up and managed a small smile for Gavin. “Just nerves.”
“The nerves in your arm are malfunctioning?”
“Oh no! I’m nerv-ous. I’m worried about what the people will think of me.”
“They will think that you are their queen.” He replied, but sounded almost confused.
Ana sighed. Gavin was only beginning to grasp the complexities of conversation. She knew better than to give such vague answers around him. “Well yes, but I’m afraid that they’ll blame me for all the horrors I caused. As much as I saved them, I’ve also hurt them. I’m worried that they’ll only remembered the times I hurt them. I’m worried they won’t respect me as their queen.”
Gavin quirked an eyebrow; the only outward sign that he was considering her words. After a very long moment, the mage replied with. “Any wrong you have committed is the smallest ripple you have made.”
“What?”
“Lord Elwood was explaining life as liquid ripples to me just an hour ago. The things you have done since coming here have far been out-shadowed by the much larger ripples you made when you defeated Keleo. The ratio of those who remember how you hurt them when you first arrives compared to those who remember who you saved them in the end will more than likely be in the 3:100 range. People will remember, but far less than you worry about.”
“So three out of every one-hundred people will be hard-pressed to respect me?”
“Even if you had never hurt them, they would find a reason to dislike you. You have made ripples in this world. You will be remembered.”
Ana smiled. “I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me happy, but thank you, Gavin.”
The mage nodded stiffly. “May I now complete the mission Lord Winter sent me on?”
“What?”
“I am here to escort you.” He executed a very stiff, but gallant bow and held out his hand for her to take.
She laid her real hand in the proffered palm and he bent to place a feather light kiss on her knuckles. Ana felt heat crowding over her cheeks and remembered Gavin’s strange fascination with making her blush. Gavin raised his head and noticed the blush with a slight quirk of his lips.
“Lord Elwood said that would please you.”
Ana fought the urge to blush again by attempting to lower her body temperature with the small, silver fan she carried. “Um…yes, it does, thank you.”
Gavin took a step forward and halted her fan with a hand on her wrist. “Lord Elwood gave me another bit of advice.” He all but whispered, his breath brushing her cheek and his deep, emotionless voice sending her senses into overdrive.
“W-what was that?” Ana asked a bit breathlessly.
“To tell you that you look very lovely indeed, your majesty.”
Just like that, he drew back and offered her his arm. Ana did not even stop the heat from flooding her cheeks. She was sure she resembled a tomato, but it would just have to do. She missed the smirk that spread across Gavin’s lips. “Shall we view the ripples you have created, your majesty?”
Ana nodded wordlessly. She didn’t care much about the ripples she’d made anymore. All she could think about were the ones he’d created on her life.
***
Holy crap fluff...I fail at writing romance.
Bla...I have a fever again.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Excerpt from 'The Mage Queen', the third book in the Chronicles of Mycp
This is only a possible draft for the final battle in 'The Mage Queen'. More than likely it shall be extended several pages and include more dialouge between Ana and Keleo. And less Star Wars references. ;)
Until then, here's a brief excerpt that includes the newly added history and revamped plotline. That I had thought up way before I read the last Harry Potter book. But then, I can name at least five books that use the whole "sharing souls idea".
Ana shifted her grip on her sword and took three deep, steadying breaths. The helmet was much to big for her and practically obscured her vision, but she did not dare take it off. They would send her away without a second thought, without caring that they were her people and it was her world and what kind of queen could she be if she had never tasted suffering with her people?
Not the sort of suffering she'd brought upon herself when she'd tried to save them using dark magic, but true pain and toil as she crossed blades next to them and tasted the same blood, sweat, and tears.
That was the idea, in any case. She tightened the glove over her fake hand so no one would catch a glimpse of the pale almost silvery skin. It would surely give her away. Atop a grand, black stallion, Grey looked every bit the general she'd promoted him to be.
His armor was etched with the heraldic sign of the four-point star shaped almost like the nearly blackened jewel that burned under her shirt. She'd meant it as a sign of hope, of triumph against tribulation. The Mage stones had long been a symbol of fear, now they meant triumph against the one who had perverted them.
Next to him rode Gavin on a white stallion, his face was as emotionless as ever, but she could tell that he was uncomfortable in his armor by the way he held himself more stiffly than normal. His sword remained sheathed at his side, but he kept his hands ready to form spells.
They stared down the half formed monsters made of Meholanian blood and sewn together bits of skin and magic. Each of the monsters wore an ebony stone tied about their neck and carried a wickedly spiked sword. They howled curses in Meholanian and Ana could tell the men were terrified, mostly because she was just as afraid. “Hold your ground men!” Winter called out from the front of the lines. “Grey, ready your archers!”
Grey nodded and turned to his right. “Archers at the ready!”
The Meholanian archers began to infuse their arrows with magic; the golden shafts glowed blue with armor piercing spells. Ana clutched her sword with a white knuckled grip. “I am not about to tell you not to fear.” Winter began. “Fear is merely another emotion that can fuel strength. So fear for your loved ones, fear for their fate, we fight for them, we fight for our people, we fight for those we love, we fight for our land, we fight for ourselves, we fight for Queen Ana.”
“For the Mage Queen!” the men shouted.
Ana nearly dropped her sword in shock. She was flattered by their sentiment. Who was she? Why would someone want to fight for her? Ana didn't even fight for herself. I nearly destroyed them all and they still believe in me? An overwhelming desire to become good enough for their praise filled Ana to the very core. And as they chanted her name, she called, “For Mycp!”
With a final call, Winter and the forward guard charged. “Loose the arrows!” Grey screamed.
And then it began.
Ana ran with the crushing mass of warriors and her blade met another. She pushed the enemy sword aside and thrust her sword through the monster's chest. Blood and stench assaulted her senses and Ana was forced to stab the creature several more times to ensure its death. She dry gagged in to her helmet and could barely take a breath before a large sword came crashing into her line of sight.
Ana was nearly crushed under the force of the attack. Her muscles screamed as she gripped the sword so tightly her hands grew numb. Ana was overcome as the sword was pushed from her hands. She was forced to roll to escape death. Blood and dirt covered her. With a hastily whispered word, the sword returned to her hand and she struck with shaking hands. The dead creature fell onto her sword, his black blood dripping down onto her helmet, through the crevices and onto her face.
She dodged several more monsters as she moved deeper into the fray, her eyes darting about for any sign of Keleo. She knew Gavin was intent on killing him, but Ana also knew that Gavin would never survive an encounter with the fallen Arnog Mage.
The horror was beyond what she could have imagined. The screams of the dying mixed with the 'zing' of arrows and clash of steel. Suddenly she knew what Grey had meant. She knew why they hadn't wanted her in the battle.
Her arms and legs burned and sweat dripped off her brow to burn her eyes. She couldn't find Gavin in the fray and she knew her time was running out. With a shrill cry another man died beside her. “No!” she screamed. “No more!”
She threw off her helmet, but no one noticed in the midst of the carnage. “Gavin!” she screamed, although her voice was drowned out by the dying.
She felt the rage filling her and the embers in her soul catching fire. She wasn't supposed to let it feed her power, but then, what did the Gwaeon know of battle and death? What good was a kingdom if everyone was dead? Another king or queen could be found. Winter would make an excellent king. Even Grey, for all his surliness would make a good king. She pulled her stone from under the armor and looked hard at the bit of red that still remained. It was enough for what she needed to do. With a whispered word and a flash of power that brought all near her to their knees, she shouted, “Face me, Keleo!”
She vaguely heard Grey's oaths as he finally saw her and did not see the intense emotion that finally spread across Gavin's bloodstained features. All she could see was the man...creature she had dreamed of since she was a child. “Hello, little Mage Queen.” said the voice that had always resonated in her mind.
The fighting had ceased. No one seemed to dare to move or even breathe. “You don't have enough of my power to use against me.” Keleo noticed smugly.
“I don't need it. I have enough power of my own.”
The fallen Arnog smiled, the movement narrowed his eyes in a way that reminded Ana of a snake. “You apparently haven't spoken to your mother about any of this.”
Ana blinked. “My mother is dead.”
“Silly child. Zervrathaer hasn't changed a bit. She still keeps secrets, even from her own daughter.”
It was too impossible for Ana to believe. “Look, Keleo,” she replied tersely. “I know you've been stuck in my mind for far too long, but that's no reason to pull out Star Wars cliches in your final moments.”
Keleo shifted his shape into the tall, imposing form of the great, female Mage. “Haven't you noticed?” he asked in Zervrathaer's smoky tones. “You barely look like your father. The dark hair? The green eyes? Even down to the stubborn personality, you look so much like her.” he melted back into his own form. “But you're more human than mage and far too stupid to notice.”
“Liar!” Ana raged, feeling more of the inner fire consume her.
“Now who is being clichéd, little Mage Queen?”
Ana bit her lip raw to keep from saying anymore and playing into his manipulations. Actions spoke louder than words anyway. All she needed was one shot. All she had was one try. It would work. If it didn't...?
Ana didn't dare contemplate what would happen once the gem swallowed her whole and her soul was given to Keleo.
The fire was was hot that Ana felt her armor melting away and her skin blistering. She cried helplessly, bawling like the frightened child she was as she screamed in her cowardice. She was a coward. A bloody, stupid coward who hid behind a reputation she couldn't fill. The power burned until Ana felt she couldn't take it anymore. She let loose a shrill scream as blood poured from her eyes that were burned out by the energy she couldn't control.
Blood. Life. Death. And far too much light.
Something snapped.
The burning ceased. The heat remained, but it was pleasantly warm like sunlight. She could see it all, but her eyes focused on the woman standing next to her. Zervrathaer. Her mother. The woman smiled. “Hello darling.”
“Hi mom.”
“Yes...about that...”“It's alright. I was probably better off not knowing until now.”
“I'm sorry, Ana. I love you. You know that, right?”
Ana nodded. “I missed you.”
“Darling, I'm already dead. I've been dead awhile now. Slowly dying after the death of your father and your disappearance until my actual physical death. This power was the only thing holding me here. But it isn't mine anymore. It belongs to you. It always has.”
“Help me.” Ana begged. “One more time, please.”
She nodded and smiled gently. “One more time.”
And then the light faded. Vaguely Ana thought she could hear a huge explosion. In her mind's eye she saw the shocked look on Keleo's face and heard his scream. He hadn't expected the dead to come back to life, no matter how much he tried to make it happen. Ana saw Zervrathaer smile. “His soul belongs to you now.”
“I don't want it.”
“It is as much your own as the one you already have. It's like the other half.”
Ana laughed humorously. “How many people can say that they need two souls to live?”
“You're special, darling.”
“I would much rather be some semblance of normal.” Ana muttered.
The soul was like a glowing ball as it slowly came to rest in Ana's hands. “It's warm and it feels like a heartbeat.” she marveled in spite of her misgivings.
She pushed the soul into the place over her heart and felt the warmth of life return to her. It eased her weariness and brought color back to her sallow features.
Quite suddenly, Ana found herself wrapped up in the not quite real arms of her real, dead mother. “I love you, my darling.” her mother whispered before pulling back. “I name you Trice Souled, the Mage Queen Ana. Last of the Da'ld and Arnog.” she paused and grinned. “Although not quite the last if you marry that boy Gavin.”
Ana resisted to roll her eyes and say “mother!” in that whiny, teenager tone. She grinned. “Glad you approve of the emotionless head case who tried to kill me at least a dozen times.” she replied in a slightly amused, un-repentantly, sarcastic way.
“Well, yes, he's not perfect, but he does have promise.”
“I'm not in love with him.” Ana reminded her. “I don't want to be in love with anyone.”
Zervrathaer hugged her again. “Hurts will heal. You will find the desire to love again.”
Ana sighed, feeling safe in her mother's arms. The light was fading into a warm, comfortable darkness. “I love you.”
It was the very last thing Ana heard before completely giving in to the darkness.
So there it is. Not quite as exciting as it ought to be, but it's a decent start. All it needs is more action. Unfortunately, I seriously must work on my action scenes. Work in progress. *le sigh*
Until then, here's a brief excerpt that includes the newly added history and revamped plotline. That I had thought up way before I read the last Harry Potter book. But then, I can name at least five books that use the whole "sharing souls idea".
***
Ana shifted her grip on her sword and took three deep, steadying breaths. The helmet was much to big for her and practically obscured her vision, but she did not dare take it off. They would send her away without a second thought, without caring that they were her people and it was her world and what kind of queen could she be if she had never tasted suffering with her people?
Not the sort of suffering she'd brought upon herself when she'd tried to save them using dark magic, but true pain and toil as she crossed blades next to them and tasted the same blood, sweat, and tears.
That was the idea, in any case. She tightened the glove over her fake hand so no one would catch a glimpse of the pale almost silvery skin. It would surely give her away. Atop a grand, black stallion, Grey looked every bit the general she'd promoted him to be.
His armor was etched with the heraldic sign of the four-point star shaped almost like the nearly blackened jewel that burned under her shirt. She'd meant it as a sign of hope, of triumph against tribulation. The Mage stones had long been a symbol of fear, now they meant triumph against the one who had perverted them.
Next to him rode Gavin on a white stallion, his face was as emotionless as ever, but she could tell that he was uncomfortable in his armor by the way he held himself more stiffly than normal. His sword remained sheathed at his side, but he kept his hands ready to form spells.
They stared down the half formed monsters made of Meholanian blood and sewn together bits of skin and magic. Each of the monsters wore an ebony stone tied about their neck and carried a wickedly spiked sword. They howled curses in Meholanian and Ana could tell the men were terrified, mostly because she was just as afraid. “Hold your ground men!” Winter called out from the front of the lines. “Grey, ready your archers!”
Grey nodded and turned to his right. “Archers at the ready!”
The Meholanian archers began to infuse their arrows with magic; the golden shafts glowed blue with armor piercing spells. Ana clutched her sword with a white knuckled grip. “I am not about to tell you not to fear.” Winter began. “Fear is merely another emotion that can fuel strength. So fear for your loved ones, fear for their fate, we fight for them, we fight for our people, we fight for those we love, we fight for our land, we fight for ourselves, we fight for Queen Ana.”
“For the Mage Queen!” the men shouted.
Ana nearly dropped her sword in shock. She was flattered by their sentiment. Who was she? Why would someone want to fight for her? Ana didn't even fight for herself. I nearly destroyed them all and they still believe in me? An overwhelming desire to become good enough for their praise filled Ana to the very core. And as they chanted her name, she called, “For Mycp!”
With a final call, Winter and the forward guard charged. “Loose the arrows!” Grey screamed.
And then it began.
Ana ran with the crushing mass of warriors and her blade met another. She pushed the enemy sword aside and thrust her sword through the monster's chest. Blood and stench assaulted her senses and Ana was forced to stab the creature several more times to ensure its death. She dry gagged in to her helmet and could barely take a breath before a large sword came crashing into her line of sight.
Ana was nearly crushed under the force of the attack. Her muscles screamed as she gripped the sword so tightly her hands grew numb. Ana was overcome as the sword was pushed from her hands. She was forced to roll to escape death. Blood and dirt covered her. With a hastily whispered word, the sword returned to her hand and she struck with shaking hands. The dead creature fell onto her sword, his black blood dripping down onto her helmet, through the crevices and onto her face.
She dodged several more monsters as she moved deeper into the fray, her eyes darting about for any sign of Keleo. She knew Gavin was intent on killing him, but Ana also knew that Gavin would never survive an encounter with the fallen Arnog Mage.
The horror was beyond what she could have imagined. The screams of the dying mixed with the 'zing' of arrows and clash of steel. Suddenly she knew what Grey had meant. She knew why they hadn't wanted her in the battle.
Her arms and legs burned and sweat dripped off her brow to burn her eyes. She couldn't find Gavin in the fray and she knew her time was running out. With a shrill cry another man died beside her. “No!” she screamed. “No more!”
She threw off her helmet, but no one noticed in the midst of the carnage. “Gavin!” she screamed, although her voice was drowned out by the dying.
She felt the rage filling her and the embers in her soul catching fire. She wasn't supposed to let it feed her power, but then, what did the Gwaeon know of battle and death? What good was a kingdom if everyone was dead? Another king or queen could be found. Winter would make an excellent king. Even Grey, for all his surliness would make a good king. She pulled her stone from under the armor and looked hard at the bit of red that still remained. It was enough for what she needed to do. With a whispered word and a flash of power that brought all near her to their knees, she shouted, “Face me, Keleo!”
She vaguely heard Grey's oaths as he finally saw her and did not see the intense emotion that finally spread across Gavin's bloodstained features. All she could see was the man...creature she had dreamed of since she was a child. “Hello, little Mage Queen.” said the voice that had always resonated in her mind.
The fighting had ceased. No one seemed to dare to move or even breathe. “You don't have enough of my power to use against me.” Keleo noticed smugly.
“I don't need it. I have enough power of my own.”
The fallen Arnog smiled, the movement narrowed his eyes in a way that reminded Ana of a snake. “You apparently haven't spoken to your mother about any of this.”
Ana blinked. “My mother is dead.”
“Silly child. Zervrathaer hasn't changed a bit. She still keeps secrets, even from her own daughter.”
It was too impossible for Ana to believe. “Look, Keleo,” she replied tersely. “I know you've been stuck in my mind for far too long, but that's no reason to pull out Star Wars cliches in your final moments.”
Keleo shifted his shape into the tall, imposing form of the great, female Mage. “Haven't you noticed?” he asked in Zervrathaer's smoky tones. “You barely look like your father. The dark hair? The green eyes? Even down to the stubborn personality, you look so much like her.” he melted back into his own form. “But you're more human than mage and far too stupid to notice.”
“Liar!” Ana raged, feeling more of the inner fire consume her.
“Now who is being clichéd, little Mage Queen?”
Ana bit her lip raw to keep from saying anymore and playing into his manipulations. Actions spoke louder than words anyway. All she needed was one shot. All she had was one try. It would work. If it didn't...?
Ana didn't dare contemplate what would happen once the gem swallowed her whole and her soul was given to Keleo.
The fire was was hot that Ana felt her armor melting away and her skin blistering. She cried helplessly, bawling like the frightened child she was as she screamed in her cowardice. She was a coward. A bloody, stupid coward who hid behind a reputation she couldn't fill. The power burned until Ana felt she couldn't take it anymore. She let loose a shrill scream as blood poured from her eyes that were burned out by the energy she couldn't control.
Blood. Life. Death. And far too much light.
Something snapped.
The burning ceased. The heat remained, but it was pleasantly warm like sunlight. She could see it all, but her eyes focused on the woman standing next to her. Zervrathaer. Her mother. The woman smiled. “Hello darling.”
“Hi mom.”
“Yes...about that...”“It's alright. I was probably better off not knowing until now.”
“I'm sorry, Ana. I love you. You know that, right?”
Ana nodded. “I missed you.”
“Darling, I'm already dead. I've been dead awhile now. Slowly dying after the death of your father and your disappearance until my actual physical death. This power was the only thing holding me here. But it isn't mine anymore. It belongs to you. It always has.”
“Help me.” Ana begged. “One more time, please.”
She nodded and smiled gently. “One more time.”
And then the light faded. Vaguely Ana thought she could hear a huge explosion. In her mind's eye she saw the shocked look on Keleo's face and heard his scream. He hadn't expected the dead to come back to life, no matter how much he tried to make it happen. Ana saw Zervrathaer smile. “His soul belongs to you now.”
“I don't want it.”
“It is as much your own as the one you already have. It's like the other half.”
Ana laughed humorously. “How many people can say that they need two souls to live?”
“You're special, darling.”
“I would much rather be some semblance of normal.” Ana muttered.
The soul was like a glowing ball as it slowly came to rest in Ana's hands. “It's warm and it feels like a heartbeat.” she marveled in spite of her misgivings.
She pushed the soul into the place over her heart and felt the warmth of life return to her. It eased her weariness and brought color back to her sallow features.
Quite suddenly, Ana found herself wrapped up in the not quite real arms of her real, dead mother. “I love you, my darling.” her mother whispered before pulling back. “I name you Trice Souled, the Mage Queen Ana. Last of the Da'ld and Arnog.” she paused and grinned. “Although not quite the last if you marry that boy Gavin.”
Ana resisted to roll her eyes and say “mother!” in that whiny, teenager tone. She grinned. “Glad you approve of the emotionless head case who tried to kill me at least a dozen times.” she replied in a slightly amused, un-repentantly, sarcastic way.
“Well, yes, he's not perfect, but he does have promise.”
“I'm not in love with him.” Ana reminded her. “I don't want to be in love with anyone.”
Zervrathaer hugged her again. “Hurts will heal. You will find the desire to love again.”
Ana sighed, feeling safe in her mother's arms. The light was fading into a warm, comfortable darkness. “I love you.”
It was the very last thing Ana heard before completely giving in to the darkness.
***
So there it is. Not quite as exciting as it ought to be, but it's a decent start. All it needs is more action. Unfortunately, I seriously must work on my action scenes. Work in progress. *le sigh*
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The Whitehall Veil excerpt
This a random experiment that I decided to attempt. It's a Victorian Steampunk Ghost Story with a bit of romance thrown in.
The summary goes thusly:
Vesper Poe had lived a very unlucky life. She'd nearly been killed four times in her life, she saw ghosts, and worst or all, she was twenty-four years a woman and unmarried. One newspaper advertisement, however, changed her world.
The Whitehall Veil
I.
Vesper Poe tugged nervously on the edges of her lace gloves after she knocked daintily on the heavy oaken doors. She pulled a scrap of newspaper from her handbag and glanced at the time. Eight o'clock in the morning, it said. Vesper dug deeper in her handbag and pulled out an old gold pocket watch. She flipped it open, checked the time, tapped the face a few times, held the device to her ear and sighed heavily. “I'm on time.” she muttered morosely as she placed the newspaper clipping and pocket watch back in her hand bag.
She raised her hand to knock again, but paused. She was already aware how ridiculous is was to be there in the first place and now it seemed as if the old bag had made a grand joke of her. Not that Vesper's reputation could suffer anymore. She resumed to picking nervously at the lace on her gloves as she stewed in her indecision. “Come now, old girl.” she whispered to herself encouragingly. “Count your loses and give the endeavor up. Lovely joke, ha ha, now go get a cup of tea and forget this whole debacle.”
Unfortunately, Vesper declined the advice of her good sense and knocked again. “No.” she replied to herself, quite firmly. “I'm here, I'm awake far earlier than I ought to be, and I'm determined to at least meet the old Mrs. Monroe and give her a piece of my mind!”
“Indeed?” questioned a deep voice that issued from somewhere behind her.
Vesper jumped and spun around, ready to attack her interloper with her black and white striped parasol.
She was stopped short by the tall, unusual man standing behind her.
He was awfully tall, a veritable giant to her five foot three inches frame. He wore a dusty gray suit with a long black over coat and a silvery vest. He wore a pair of dirt-encrusted goggles around his neck, a pocket watch hung carelessly out of his lapel pocket, and he had cords and tangles of wires looped around his arm and over his shoulder. But his oddest feature was easily his hair. It was long and black and wrapped in thick strands that seemed to defy gravity by standing nearly a foot from his head even though he had a haphazardly tied black ribbon around the mess.
His tools screamed inventor, but his hair screamed escapee from an asylum. “Do watch where you swing that thing, miss. You're liable to take some poor unsuspecting bloke's eye out.” he said with a slight smirk as he gestured to her parasol which had somehow finagled its way around her arms until she was holding it like a pistol.
Vesper lowered the parasol, but shot the man her most frosty glare. “It t'would serve you right for sneaking up on a girl.”
The insane man 'tsked' lightly. “Can't have that now can we? Pardon me, ma'am. I am Thaddeus Weatherford at your most humble service.” he pretended to doff his imaginary hat as he sketched a deep bow.
“Your manner are atrocious.” Vesper grumbled before she replied with, “Vesper Poe.” She finished off with a hasty curtsy that could barely be called a curtsy at all.
Somewhere, in some grave, her boarding school charms teacher was cursing her name.
Ghosts reminded Vesper of her current predicament. “Are you here for Mrs. Monroe's little...ghost...finding...soirée?” she finished rather lamely.
“Indeed I am and I take it that you are as well. I also have observed that we seem to be the only ones on this noble quest and our hostess has forgotten us.”
Vesper sighed and turned a weary glance to the still closed grand doors. “You would be correct in your assumptions. I was just about to leave.”
“And having a grand argument with yourself about it too. I know, that's when I arrived.” he reminded her cheekily.
Vesper resisted the urge to brain him with her parasol or better yet, her little heeled boot. Not that she could kick as high as his head. The blasted giant. But it was a lovely dream to entertain.
“Yes.” she said shortly.
“Perhaps you need a louder knock?” he mused as he stepped up beside her.
Vesper was suddenly struck by his generally lovely facial structure, pale complexion, and the odd scent of cloves and gunpowder that seemed to lazily waft off him. “Miss Poe?” he asked, breaking her from the spell.
“Ah, yes...um...sorry, what were you saying?” Vesper tried very hard not to blush, thankfully she had practice at appearing emotionless.
“Stand back in case the door opens. The hinges suggest it will open to the outside. I am about to knock and I don't wish for you to get hit by either of the doors.”
Infernally logical. Vesper grumbled inwardly as she backed down and to the side.
Thaddeus' large fist hit the oak so hard that Vesper was sure everyone within a thirty meter radius heard it. It seemed do the trick, however, because to Vesper's great consternation, the door opened not but ten seconds after.
The man who opened it was perhaps the skinniest fellow Vesper had ever seen. Skinny and old. His veins protruded grotesquely from his hands and he was so skinny that she could practically count every bone in his hand and wrist. “Yes?” he inquired in a raspy voice that had the sound of wind ruffling a pile of dead leaves.
“I am Thaddeus Weatherford and this is Miss Vesper Poe and we're here about Mrs. Monroe's advertisement.” Thaddeus introduced them both as if they were more than mere strangers.
“Ah good, you two are the last to arrive.” the skinny old man rasped in an almost ominous tone.
Vesper tried not to shiver as he gestured into the darkness behind him. Thaddeus glanced back and her and smirked as he offered her his arm. “Well, my dear Miss Poe, shall we?”
“I am not your 'dear' anything.” Vesper grumbled, but took his arm anyway because politeness demanded it.
Together the stepped into the darkness.
II.
It was not so terribly dark once they had gotten inside of the grand front hall. Vesper carefully removed the pins in her veiled top hat, freed the hat from her dark curls, and clutched it nervously in her free hand as they followed their skinny new friend deeper into the lavish, but infinitely old front hall. It barely looked as if anyone actually live in the house. The old, suitably spooky pictures of unsmiling relatives were covered in years of dust and the ceiling was home to many webs, both unoccupied and occupied.
The skinny man took up a lit candelabra that contained four mostly-used, dripping, blood red candles. “Follow me.” he intoned.
“Straight from novel, isn't it?” Thaddeus whispered.
Vesper replied with a curt. “Refrain from the intimacy of whispering, if you please, Mr. Weatherford.”
“You, Miss Poe, are absolutely no fun at all.”
“I'll not here to be fun.” he countered.
“Ah, so you have a mysterious tale as well? A deep, dark secret?”
“Never. I am a lady.”
“It's quite alright, I have my share of deep, dark secrets as well. No need to be ashamed.”
“You're insufferable!” Vesper sputtered.
“And you're missing the view.” Thaddeus gestured to the hallway.
It was perhaps the creepiest hallway Vesper has ever seen in her life. It was far darker than it needed to be and the darkness was almost a tangible thing that seemed to hang about them like a heavy shroud.
There were more grim portraits and the eyes of their subjects glowed in the light of the flickering flame making the glowing eyes seem as if they were darting back and forth between the newcomers.
Vesper a beginning to identify coming to the creepy mansion as a very bad idea. Probably one of the worst in her life. She wasn't actually afraid of it, per say. She rolled her shoulder as she fidgeted and felt the satin of her gown catch on a patch of rough skin. The dead didn't scare her, but rather, they annoyed her because she didn't understand them.
Vesper was halted in her introspection by the opening of two ornate doors. They had reached their destination. The room was bright and surprisingly clean. It was a day room decorated with pink and white floral couches dainty tables, and many bursting flower vases. Four very interesting people lounged about, drinking cups of tea and eying a dubious looking stack of green sandwiches.
The first of the guests was a woman a good deal younger than herself. She was a little blonde angel who would probably be considered a great beauty had her blonde curls not been hacked to a manly length just below her ears. Scandalously, she wore a man's large white shirt, red striped vest, and pressed brown slacks that were covered to her knees by huge, black boots. She adjusted a pair of spectacles that sat on the edge of her nose and smiled lightly. “Why Thad! You devil! I wasn't aware that you'd be joining us!”
Thaddeus grinned. “My dear, sweet Amelia, I wanted to surprise you!”
A mature gentleman who seemed older than any of them, but hardly looked a day over thirty set his lips into a thin line. His dark eyes glinted dangerously. “Thaddeus.” he greeted the man coldly with a minuscule incline of his head.
He, like Thaddeus, possessed a pair of unique goggles that seemed to be attached to his belt. He wore a rumpled white dress shirt, an untied, brown, bow tie, and brown slacks that were covered in pockets. His hair was short and messy and reddish brown. “Morning, Eldon.” Thaddeus returned, seeming to not notice the man's barely concealed contempt.
“Thaddeus, my boy. You know far better than to provoke, Eldon.” The third man said good naturedly.
He was an elderly gentleman with the most unusual black and white striped hair. His black suit was twenty years out of style, his white cravat was stained with some dark substance, and the black boots he wore over his slacks looked entirely ridiculous. Vesper liked him instantly. He just seemed to exude the sort of aura that drew people to him. She hadn't even spoke to him and she already felt as if he was the grandfather she'd never had.
A cough interrupted Thaddeus' greeting and Vesper's eyes were drawn to the last of the guests. The girl was only a child. Probably no more than ten. She looked horribly ill. Her pretty green eyes were rimmed by deep, dark circles and her flamboyantly bright red hair was limp and gathered into something that resembled pig tails. She wore a white dress that was far too fancy for the occasion and much to grown up for a girl her age. She didn't smile as she greeted Thaddeus with a whispery “hello”.
“Everyone, this is Miss Vesper Poe, I've only just met her myself, but she's here for the same reasons as we are.” Thaddeus politely introduced her.
Vesper managed a small curtsy. “A pleasure.”
Before anything more could be said, the most absurd looking person Vesper had ever espied in her life breezed in with an air of authority that spoke louder than her extremely short stature. “Hello chickadees, I am Mrs. Monroe.” the old woman said briskly as she tossed her pale blue hair over her shoulder.
To Be Continued! Dun dun DAAAA!
The summary goes thusly:
Vesper Poe had lived a very unlucky life. She'd nearly been killed four times in her life, she saw ghosts, and worst or all, she was twenty-four years a woman and unmarried. One newspaper advertisement, however, changed her world.
The Whitehall Veil
I.
Vesper Poe tugged nervously on the edges of her lace gloves after she knocked daintily on the heavy oaken doors. She pulled a scrap of newspaper from her handbag and glanced at the time. Eight o'clock in the morning, it said. Vesper dug deeper in her handbag and pulled out an old gold pocket watch. She flipped it open, checked the time, tapped the face a few times, held the device to her ear and sighed heavily. “I'm on time.” she muttered morosely as she placed the newspaper clipping and pocket watch back in her hand bag.
She raised her hand to knock again, but paused. She was already aware how ridiculous is was to be there in the first place and now it seemed as if the old bag had made a grand joke of her. Not that Vesper's reputation could suffer anymore. She resumed to picking nervously at the lace on her gloves as she stewed in her indecision. “Come now, old girl.” she whispered to herself encouragingly. “Count your loses and give the endeavor up. Lovely joke, ha ha, now go get a cup of tea and forget this whole debacle.”
Unfortunately, Vesper declined the advice of her good sense and knocked again. “No.” she replied to herself, quite firmly. “I'm here, I'm awake far earlier than I ought to be, and I'm determined to at least meet the old Mrs. Monroe and give her a piece of my mind!”
“Indeed?” questioned a deep voice that issued from somewhere behind her.
Vesper jumped and spun around, ready to attack her interloper with her black and white striped parasol.
She was stopped short by the tall, unusual man standing behind her.
He was awfully tall, a veritable giant to her five foot three inches frame. He wore a dusty gray suit with a long black over coat and a silvery vest. He wore a pair of dirt-encrusted goggles around his neck, a pocket watch hung carelessly out of his lapel pocket, and he had cords and tangles of wires looped around his arm and over his shoulder. But his oddest feature was easily his hair. It was long and black and wrapped in thick strands that seemed to defy gravity by standing nearly a foot from his head even though he had a haphazardly tied black ribbon around the mess.
His tools screamed inventor, but his hair screamed escapee from an asylum. “Do watch where you swing that thing, miss. You're liable to take some poor unsuspecting bloke's eye out.” he said with a slight smirk as he gestured to her parasol which had somehow finagled its way around her arms until she was holding it like a pistol.
Vesper lowered the parasol, but shot the man her most frosty glare. “It t'would serve you right for sneaking up on a girl.”
The insane man 'tsked' lightly. “Can't have that now can we? Pardon me, ma'am. I am Thaddeus Weatherford at your most humble service.” he pretended to doff his imaginary hat as he sketched a deep bow.
“Your manner are atrocious.” Vesper grumbled before she replied with, “Vesper Poe.” She finished off with a hasty curtsy that could barely be called a curtsy at all.
Somewhere, in some grave, her boarding school charms teacher was cursing her name.
Ghosts reminded Vesper of her current predicament. “Are you here for Mrs. Monroe's little...ghost...finding...soirée?” she finished rather lamely.
“Indeed I am and I take it that you are as well. I also have observed that we seem to be the only ones on this noble quest and our hostess has forgotten us.”
Vesper sighed and turned a weary glance to the still closed grand doors. “You would be correct in your assumptions. I was just about to leave.”
“And having a grand argument with yourself about it too. I know, that's when I arrived.” he reminded her cheekily.
Vesper resisted the urge to brain him with her parasol or better yet, her little heeled boot. Not that she could kick as high as his head. The blasted giant. But it was a lovely dream to entertain.
“Yes.” she said shortly.
“Perhaps you need a louder knock?” he mused as he stepped up beside her.
Vesper was suddenly struck by his generally lovely facial structure, pale complexion, and the odd scent of cloves and gunpowder that seemed to lazily waft off him. “Miss Poe?” he asked, breaking her from the spell.
“Ah, yes...um...sorry, what were you saying?” Vesper tried very hard not to blush, thankfully she had practice at appearing emotionless.
“Stand back in case the door opens. The hinges suggest it will open to the outside. I am about to knock and I don't wish for you to get hit by either of the doors.”
Infernally logical. Vesper grumbled inwardly as she backed down and to the side.
Thaddeus' large fist hit the oak so hard that Vesper was sure everyone within a thirty meter radius heard it. It seemed do the trick, however, because to Vesper's great consternation, the door opened not but ten seconds after.
The man who opened it was perhaps the skinniest fellow Vesper had ever seen. Skinny and old. His veins protruded grotesquely from his hands and he was so skinny that she could practically count every bone in his hand and wrist. “Yes?” he inquired in a raspy voice that had the sound of wind ruffling a pile of dead leaves.
“I am Thaddeus Weatherford and this is Miss Vesper Poe and we're here about Mrs. Monroe's advertisement.” Thaddeus introduced them both as if they were more than mere strangers.
“Ah good, you two are the last to arrive.” the skinny old man rasped in an almost ominous tone.
Vesper tried not to shiver as he gestured into the darkness behind him. Thaddeus glanced back and her and smirked as he offered her his arm. “Well, my dear Miss Poe, shall we?”
“I am not your 'dear' anything.” Vesper grumbled, but took his arm anyway because politeness demanded it.
Together the stepped into the darkness.
II.
It was not so terribly dark once they had gotten inside of the grand front hall. Vesper carefully removed the pins in her veiled top hat, freed the hat from her dark curls, and clutched it nervously in her free hand as they followed their skinny new friend deeper into the lavish, but infinitely old front hall. It barely looked as if anyone actually live in the house. The old, suitably spooky pictures of unsmiling relatives were covered in years of dust and the ceiling was home to many webs, both unoccupied and occupied.
The skinny man took up a lit candelabra that contained four mostly-used, dripping, blood red candles. “Follow me.” he intoned.
“Straight from novel, isn't it?” Thaddeus whispered.
Vesper replied with a curt. “Refrain from the intimacy of whispering, if you please, Mr. Weatherford.”
“You, Miss Poe, are absolutely no fun at all.”
“I'll not here to be fun.” he countered.
“Ah, so you have a mysterious tale as well? A deep, dark secret?”
“Never. I am a lady.”
“It's quite alright, I have my share of deep, dark secrets as well. No need to be ashamed.”
“You're insufferable!” Vesper sputtered.
“And you're missing the view.” Thaddeus gestured to the hallway.
It was perhaps the creepiest hallway Vesper has ever seen in her life. It was far darker than it needed to be and the darkness was almost a tangible thing that seemed to hang about them like a heavy shroud.
There were more grim portraits and the eyes of their subjects glowed in the light of the flickering flame making the glowing eyes seem as if they were darting back and forth between the newcomers.
Vesper a beginning to identify coming to the creepy mansion as a very bad idea. Probably one of the worst in her life. She wasn't actually afraid of it, per say. She rolled her shoulder as she fidgeted and felt the satin of her gown catch on a patch of rough skin. The dead didn't scare her, but rather, they annoyed her because she didn't understand them.
Vesper was halted in her introspection by the opening of two ornate doors. They had reached their destination. The room was bright and surprisingly clean. It was a day room decorated with pink and white floral couches dainty tables, and many bursting flower vases. Four very interesting people lounged about, drinking cups of tea and eying a dubious looking stack of green sandwiches.
The first of the guests was a woman a good deal younger than herself. She was a little blonde angel who would probably be considered a great beauty had her blonde curls not been hacked to a manly length just below her ears. Scandalously, she wore a man's large white shirt, red striped vest, and pressed brown slacks that were covered to her knees by huge, black boots. She adjusted a pair of spectacles that sat on the edge of her nose and smiled lightly. “Why Thad! You devil! I wasn't aware that you'd be joining us!”
Thaddeus grinned. “My dear, sweet Amelia, I wanted to surprise you!”
A mature gentleman who seemed older than any of them, but hardly looked a day over thirty set his lips into a thin line. His dark eyes glinted dangerously. “Thaddeus.” he greeted the man coldly with a minuscule incline of his head.
He, like Thaddeus, possessed a pair of unique goggles that seemed to be attached to his belt. He wore a rumpled white dress shirt, an untied, brown, bow tie, and brown slacks that were covered in pockets. His hair was short and messy and reddish brown. “Morning, Eldon.” Thaddeus returned, seeming to not notice the man's barely concealed contempt.
“Thaddeus, my boy. You know far better than to provoke, Eldon.” The third man said good naturedly.
He was an elderly gentleman with the most unusual black and white striped hair. His black suit was twenty years out of style, his white cravat was stained with some dark substance, and the black boots he wore over his slacks looked entirely ridiculous. Vesper liked him instantly. He just seemed to exude the sort of aura that drew people to him. She hadn't even spoke to him and she already felt as if he was the grandfather she'd never had.
A cough interrupted Thaddeus' greeting and Vesper's eyes were drawn to the last of the guests. The girl was only a child. Probably no more than ten. She looked horribly ill. Her pretty green eyes were rimmed by deep, dark circles and her flamboyantly bright red hair was limp and gathered into something that resembled pig tails. She wore a white dress that was far too fancy for the occasion and much to grown up for a girl her age. She didn't smile as she greeted Thaddeus with a whispery “hello”.
“Everyone, this is Miss Vesper Poe, I've only just met her myself, but she's here for the same reasons as we are.” Thaddeus politely introduced her.
Vesper managed a small curtsy. “A pleasure.”
Before anything more could be said, the most absurd looking person Vesper had ever espied in her life breezed in with an air of authority that spoke louder than her extremely short stature. “Hello chickadees, I am Mrs. Monroe.” the old woman said briskly as she tossed her pale blue hair over her shoulder.
To Be Continued! Dun dun DAAAA!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The Chronicles of Mycp Stand Alone Sequels
A few months ago I found myself planning a sequel to the trilogy starring Ana and Gavin's kids. This was unusual because in all my previous drafts Ana never had children. Let alone four!
But for some odd reason I couldn't get these kids out of my mind. They were so different than their parents.
Atticus is the oldest. He, like his father, is an alchemist. Unlike his father, his powers are much stronger. He's a natural leader and due to this he has a bit of a pride issue. In the first book concerning him and his siblings he's 24 years old. He doesn't quite know what to do with attention of women. He's a gentleman, but only because his sisters browbeat it into him.
Siobhan (pronounced Shi-vawn) is the second oldest at 23. Her powers are mostly destructive and fire-based. It goes along well with her personality which is extremely dramatic and tempermental. When upset she can certainly explode and then with her destructive powers bad things can happen. She's stuck with lots of anger because she was lied to about her parents' death. She's fiercely protective of her siblings.
Luke is the third child at 16. He's the most quiet and level-headed of the kids. His power is unknown at first and is far less than his siblings. He makes up for this with intelligence and ingenuity. He's very loyal and almost too obedient at times. During the end of the first novel he comes into his own and learns his abilities as a strategist.
Kyrie is the youngest at 15. She's a bright, spunky girl who seems cursed with death-based powers and the ability to see dead people. Like her sister, she has a slight temper, but isn't quite as angry as her sister because she doesn't remember her parents. Kyrie is the voice of optimism among her siblings. During the second novel she sobers a great deal and becomes almost angsty. I gotta work on that.
The first "sequel" novel is going to be written in a way where you don't have to have read the trilogy or know much about Ana and Gavin to read about their kids. Granted there will be things in both stories that if you've read the trilogy you'll find interesting. But I want these stories to be really separate. I don't want to feel like I'm writing about the same things with different characters.
The first "sequel" is called The Storm God. Atticus, Siobhan, Luke, and Kyrie have lived with Ana's adopted sister, Jamie, for about 16 years since the "death" of their parents, Ana and Gavin. While visiting an old friend of Jamie's in a very familiar looking old castle in England, the children (I do use this term loosely) find a chest of strange, old items and clothes. (the items will, of course be familiar to anyone who has read the trilogy)
Suddenly, they find themselves in a land called Mycp, which they find out is actually their home. They learn the truth about their parents, about how they've been captured by a Gwaeon prince Lael who calls himself the Storm God and has destroyed most of Mycp.
The children meet a group of Mages who give them a globe that was discovered by their parents before they were captured. The globe is called The Elegy of Time is used to travel through time. But it can only be used by a full-blooded, powerful Mage. And since most of the full-blood Mages were killed in the great wars, this leaves only Ana and Gavin's children. They are told to go back in time to before the Storm God became so powerful and find a way to defeat her.
However, before they can leave, Siobhan is captured by the Storm God. Kyrie decides to stay with the group of Mages to help rescue Siobhan. Atticus claims that he's the only one who's going to go back in time. Angry about this, Luke runs away to find his parents.
Siobhan has issues as the Storm God's slave and she learns a bit more about him.
Lael, is a spoiled and cruel young Gwaeon scientist with far too much power. Lael wants Siobhan for her power (he actually lost her parents. he was going to use their power), but hates her Mage blood. Siobhan learns that Lael is actually only half Gwaeon and hated by his own people because his mother had an affair with one of the Ninwe Man/Dragon experiments so Lael is half one of the most hated creations of the Gwaeon. Lael has managed to slaughter most of the Gwaeon through a plague he created. Lael's dragon wings help him control the weather, which is why he calls himself the storm god.
Lael's right hand man is Abaddon (also known as The Abandoned). Abaddon is a sort of golem, created by Lael. Abaddon is half Ninwe Dragon, Mage, and Man created with sand and lightning as well. Abaddon, apart from suffering from intense guy pms, is actually a halfway decent fellow. He ends up helping Siobhan and keeping her safe.
Meanwhile, Kyrie meets many of her parents old friends and is well on the way to becoming one of the greatest Mages since Zervrathaer. She eventually rescues Siobhan with the help of Abaddon.
Luke gains a bit more of a personality, becomes good friends with the Meholanian people, and finds his parents.
Atticus, goes back in time about 14 years. He sees his 7 year old self and then find a good of desert Mages along with a woman named Jesylinn and her 7 year old sister, Alya. With Jesylinn's helps, Atticus goes to the land of the Gwaeon and finds a weakness for the Storm God. Jesylinn dies, Alya develops a huge crush on Atticus and says she's not going to marry anyone but him and will even wait for him. When Atticus returns to his time, he ends up meeting a grown up Alya who remembers him. Together with her and his family, they defeat the Storm God.
So then, Ana and Gavin set about to putting the kingdoms back into order. Siobhan marries Abaddon and Atticus eventually marries Alya (after a bit of time). Kyrie leaves to study at one of the old mage school and Luke begins traveling to meet the other races.
I'll explain the second "sequel" in another post.
But for some odd reason I couldn't get these kids out of my mind. They were so different than their parents.
Atticus is the oldest. He, like his father, is an alchemist. Unlike his father, his powers are much stronger. He's a natural leader and due to this he has a bit of a pride issue. In the first book concerning him and his siblings he's 24 years old. He doesn't quite know what to do with attention of women. He's a gentleman, but only because his sisters browbeat it into him.
Siobhan (pronounced Shi-vawn) is the second oldest at 23. Her powers are mostly destructive and fire-based. It goes along well with her personality which is extremely dramatic and tempermental. When upset she can certainly explode and then with her destructive powers bad things can happen. She's stuck with lots of anger because she was lied to about her parents' death. She's fiercely protective of her siblings.
Luke is the third child at 16. He's the most quiet and level-headed of the kids. His power is unknown at first and is far less than his siblings. He makes up for this with intelligence and ingenuity. He's very loyal and almost too obedient at times. During the end of the first novel he comes into his own and learns his abilities as a strategist.
Kyrie is the youngest at 15. She's a bright, spunky girl who seems cursed with death-based powers and the ability to see dead people. Like her sister, she has a slight temper, but isn't quite as angry as her sister because she doesn't remember her parents. Kyrie is the voice of optimism among her siblings. During the second novel she sobers a great deal and becomes almost angsty. I gotta work on that.
The first "sequel" novel is going to be written in a way where you don't have to have read the trilogy or know much about Ana and Gavin to read about their kids. Granted there will be things in both stories that if you've read the trilogy you'll find interesting. But I want these stories to be really separate. I don't want to feel like I'm writing about the same things with different characters.
The first "sequel" is called The Storm God. Atticus, Siobhan, Luke, and Kyrie have lived with Ana's adopted sister, Jamie, for about 16 years since the "death" of their parents, Ana and Gavin. While visiting an old friend of Jamie's in a very familiar looking old castle in England, the children (I do use this term loosely) find a chest of strange, old items and clothes. (the items will, of course be familiar to anyone who has read the trilogy)
Suddenly, they find themselves in a land called Mycp, which they find out is actually their home. They learn the truth about their parents, about how they've been captured by a Gwaeon prince Lael who calls himself the Storm God and has destroyed most of Mycp.
The children meet a group of Mages who give them a globe that was discovered by their parents before they were captured. The globe is called The Elegy of Time is used to travel through time. But it can only be used by a full-blooded, powerful Mage. And since most of the full-blood Mages were killed in the great wars, this leaves only Ana and Gavin's children. They are told to go back in time to before the Storm God became so powerful and find a way to defeat her.
However, before they can leave, Siobhan is captured by the Storm God. Kyrie decides to stay with the group of Mages to help rescue Siobhan. Atticus claims that he's the only one who's going to go back in time. Angry about this, Luke runs away to find his parents.
Siobhan has issues as the Storm God's slave and she learns a bit more about him.
Lael, is a spoiled and cruel young Gwaeon scientist with far too much power. Lael wants Siobhan for her power (he actually lost her parents. he was going to use their power), but hates her Mage blood. Siobhan learns that Lael is actually only half Gwaeon and hated by his own people because his mother had an affair with one of the Ninwe Man/Dragon experiments so Lael is half one of the most hated creations of the Gwaeon. Lael has managed to slaughter most of the Gwaeon through a plague he created. Lael's dragon wings help him control the weather, which is why he calls himself the storm god.
Lael's right hand man is Abaddon (also known as The Abandoned). Abaddon is a sort of golem, created by Lael. Abaddon is half Ninwe Dragon, Mage, and Man created with sand and lightning as well. Abaddon, apart from suffering from intense guy pms, is actually a halfway decent fellow. He ends up helping Siobhan and keeping her safe.
Meanwhile, Kyrie meets many of her parents old friends and is well on the way to becoming one of the greatest Mages since Zervrathaer. She eventually rescues Siobhan with the help of Abaddon.
Luke gains a bit more of a personality, becomes good friends with the Meholanian people, and finds his parents.
Atticus, goes back in time about 14 years. He sees his 7 year old self and then find a good of desert Mages along with a woman named Jesylinn and her 7 year old sister, Alya. With Jesylinn's helps, Atticus goes to the land of the Gwaeon and finds a weakness for the Storm God. Jesylinn dies, Alya develops a huge crush on Atticus and says she's not going to marry anyone but him and will even wait for him. When Atticus returns to his time, he ends up meeting a grown up Alya who remembers him. Together with her and his family, they defeat the Storm God.
So then, Ana and Gavin set about to putting the kingdoms back into order. Siobhan marries Abaddon and Atticus eventually marries Alya (after a bit of time). Kyrie leaves to study at one of the old mage school and Luke begins traveling to meet the other races.
I'll explain the second "sequel" in another post.
Worlds Unbroken
And STILL more story ideas...
(I can't make it stop!)
Worlds Unbroken- Adrea has just lost her job, home, and boyfriend all in one day. She makes an impromptu wish upon a shooting star to find a man who will stay by her side forever.
At the very same time, in the land of the Sidhe, Prince Thaeryn, wishes to find the perfect woman so his father will quit bugging him to get married and won't pass the throne over to Thaeryn's younger and slightly demented, evil brother.
The Higher Authorities decide to grant their wishes, but Angel First Class Molly, makes a bit of a mistake.
Now Thaeryn has two "perfect" women and Adrea has Prince Thaeryn who can't be more than 10 ft away from her at all times.
Manacapilli's Notes: Utterly cliched, silly little romance about wishes, silly dreamers, spoiled princes, and true love.
(I can't make it stop!)
Worlds Unbroken- Adrea has just lost her job, home, and boyfriend all in one day. She makes an impromptu wish upon a shooting star to find a man who will stay by her side forever.
At the very same time, in the land of the Sidhe, Prince Thaeryn, wishes to find the perfect woman so his father will quit bugging him to get married and won't pass the throne over to Thaeryn's younger and slightly demented, evil brother.
The Higher Authorities decide to grant their wishes, but Angel First Class Molly, makes a bit of a mistake.
Now Thaeryn has two "perfect" women and Adrea has Prince Thaeryn who can't be more than 10 ft away from her at all times.
Manacapilli's Notes: Utterly cliched, silly little romance about wishes, silly dreamers, spoiled princes, and true love.
Pearl Shade
Yet another story idea...
Pearl Shade- Lenora thought that being a princess and marrying a stranger was bad. However, pretending to fall in love with a Sea God and being cursed to murder him was much, much worse.
Manacapilli's Notes: This story idea came from when I wanted to write my own version of the Little Mermaid fairy tale.
Lenora loved the ocean and hated the arrogant stuck-up prince her father wanted her to marry. So she decides to steal and boat and run away.
Meanwhile, Lucian was a reluctant sea god who had just found out that the siren princess he was about to marry was sent to assassinate him. Needless to say, the last thing he wanted to deal with was a little mortal girl violating his mortal/immortal boundary agreement.
Still Meanwhile, Leviathan is the Sea God's cousin, right-hand man, and general. His life is defined by duty, honor, and keeping his cousin from declaring war on everyone. Lev also suffers from an intense lack of personality.
So when Lucian admits that in a fit of rage, he drowned a mortal, Lev goes to investigate.
Lev finds not a mortal, but a mer, who can't seem to remember anything.
The truth is, a powerful rival Sea Goddess saved Lenora to use her to assassinate (she was behind the siren princess too) poor Lucian. Lenora is cursed to die if she tells anyone her name, where she comes from, or what she's been ordered to do. Her job? Seduce Lucian and kill him with her poisonous kiss. And try not to fall in love or kiss anyone else.
Pearl Shade- Lenora thought that being a princess and marrying a stranger was bad. However, pretending to fall in love with a Sea God and being cursed to murder him was much, much worse.
Manacapilli's Notes: This story idea came from when I wanted to write my own version of the Little Mermaid fairy tale.
Lenora loved the ocean and hated the arrogant stuck-up prince her father wanted her to marry. So she decides to steal and boat and run away.
Meanwhile, Lucian was a reluctant sea god who had just found out that the siren princess he was about to marry was sent to assassinate him. Needless to say, the last thing he wanted to deal with was a little mortal girl violating his mortal/immortal boundary agreement.
Still Meanwhile, Leviathan is the Sea God's cousin, right-hand man, and general. His life is defined by duty, honor, and keeping his cousin from declaring war on everyone. Lev also suffers from an intense lack of personality.
So when Lucian admits that in a fit of rage, he drowned a mortal, Lev goes to investigate.
Lev finds not a mortal, but a mer, who can't seem to remember anything.
The truth is, a powerful rival Sea Goddess saved Lenora to use her to assassinate (she was behind the siren princess too) poor Lucian. Lenora is cursed to die if she tells anyone her name, where she comes from, or what she's been ordered to do. Her job? Seduce Lucian and kill him with her poisonous kiss. And try not to fall in love or kiss anyone else.
The Time Duet
Possible NaNoWriMo Story....
The Time Duet
Part One: Doors
Part Two: Wager
Part I: Doors- Since childhood, Gemma Arlay has believedin the existence of a group of immortal warriors who protect the very fabric of time and space. In her almost single-minded quest to find out the truth of her father's death, Gemma learns the truth, but pays for the knowledge with her sanity.
Manacapilli's Notes: Most of this story focuses on Gemma in a mental hospital. The second half of the tale is about Gemma meeting Faust, who seems nice, but has a much darker alternate reason for taking her into his confidence.
Part II: Wager- Gemma has been pulled into a war that has been waged since the dawn of time. The truth proves even more difficult than previously assumed. Gemma must determine whether she truly wants to know who she is or live in her far more comfortable lie.
Manacapilli's Notes: The second part of this story focuses on a mix of Arthurian mythology and a complete bastardization of a few religious mythologies. It is far darker than the first and contains lots of angst. Why? Because this story, at it's core, is about choices. It's about extremely dark and horrible choices and whether innocence can be achieved through pretending it never happened. (which it can't)
There's one idea...
The Time Duet
Part One: Doors
Part Two: Wager
Part I: Doors- Since childhood, Gemma Arlay has believedin the existence of a group of immortal warriors who protect the very fabric of time and space. In her almost single-minded quest to find out the truth of her father's death, Gemma learns the truth, but pays for the knowledge with her sanity.
Manacapilli's Notes: Most of this story focuses on Gemma in a mental hospital. The second half of the tale is about Gemma meeting Faust, who seems nice, but has a much darker alternate reason for taking her into his confidence.
Part II: Wager- Gemma has been pulled into a war that has been waged since the dawn of time. The truth proves even more difficult than previously assumed. Gemma must determine whether she truly wants to know who she is or live in her far more comfortable lie.
Manacapilli's Notes: The second part of this story focuses on a mix of Arthurian mythology and a complete bastardization of a few religious mythologies. It is far darker than the first and contains lots of angst. Why? Because this story, at it's core, is about choices. It's about extremely dark and horrible choices and whether innocence can be achieved through pretending it never happened. (which it can't)
There's one idea...
A History of the Races in Mycp
Originally, I had the world of Mcyp inhabited by: Mages, Men, Meholanian, and Boran. (I should have thought of another 'm' name. Hmmm...I hadn't noticed that until now.)
After a time they grew to include the Gwaeon (and angelic-like race with similar physical attributes to the Meholanian people. Possibly a precursor race) and two sister races to the Meholanian people who lived on islands.
None of this made much sense. So I was forced to redo it.
The world begins with the Gwaeon who are still an angel-like race. The Perfect beings who grew lonely in their world. They created a race of dragons known as the Ninewe. Thus, the Ninewe grew angry with the refusal of their gods and decided to storm their kingdom.
Their attempt to destory their creators failed and many of the Ninewe died. The captured Ninewe became playthings of the Gwaeon who tried to find a way to "fix" the Ninewe. A few of the Gwaeon, however, knew this was wrong. They rescued the captured ones, but the damage had already been done. The "fixed" Ninewe were given two forms. One beast and one more human. Some were stuck in variations between the two. So the few rebel Gwaeon gave them a safe haven in the Debuta Mountains and hid them from their brothers and sisters.
The second attempt at life was a success. The Gwaeon created a race called the Da'ld. They were perfect in form, marvelously beautiful, wise, and powerful (but nearly as powerful as the Gwaeon). But the Da'ld did something unexpected. They intermarried with the human form of the Dragon Ninewe and these children were known as the Meholanians. Powerful, but not nearly as beautiful or powerful as the Da'ld.
Some of the Meholanians who inherited the genetic attritbutes of the dragons were exiled to the Isle of Sheol to guard the Entrance to the Black Lands and known as the Asfaer.
The Gwaeon's last creation came from the Gwaeon Prince, Sael, prince of trickery and mayhem, who created the Arnog as a parody of the Da'ld.
The Arnog were ugly beings, but far more powerful than the Da'ld. The other Gwaeon hated them and sentenced the Arnog to forever serve the Da'ld.
Now the Meholanians were arrogant in their beauty and power and decided to created life for themselves. So they created Man. Man rebelled against their creators however and along with the Arnog, overthrew them and chased the Meholanians to the farthest corner of the world.
The Arnog and the Men intermarried and their race became known as the Mages.
But Man grew jealous of their more powerful cousins and sought to devise weapons to gain power over them. Naturally, the Mages were more powerful and a particularly bitter Mage (who was more Arnog than Mage) named Keleo devised a plan to get back at the race of Men. Thus the Great Mage Wars.
Oh and meanwhile, the Ninewe Dragons who were more human than dragon decided to call themselves the Boran. And they hid away in the swamps, away from all the wars. Seems to be a Ninewe thing because the Ninewe dragons didn't leave their havens in the Debuta Mountains until the Great Mages Wars and then during those wars they were almost entirely killed off.
Anyway, I think this explains Keleo and the wars a bit better. Before if was just like, "There was this dude named Keleo who went power hungry and decided to kill a bunch of people and raise a zombie-like army."
Still the Gwaeon are a little annoying in this version, but thinking about it, they've always been sort of annoying. Even way back in the first story I included them in. I think I was about thirteen when I wrote the story. The Gwaeon were these pissy beings who didn't want to help the humans and liked hiding in their really elaborate homes.
Hmmm...maybe they really haven't changed all that much.
After a time they grew to include the Gwaeon (and angelic-like race with similar physical attributes to the Meholanian people. Possibly a precursor race) and two sister races to the Meholanian people who lived on islands.
None of this made much sense. So I was forced to redo it.
The world begins with the Gwaeon who are still an angel-like race. The Perfect beings who grew lonely in their world. They created a race of dragons known as the Ninewe. Thus, the Ninewe grew angry with the refusal of their gods and decided to storm their kingdom.
Their attempt to destory their creators failed and many of the Ninewe died. The captured Ninewe became playthings of the Gwaeon who tried to find a way to "fix" the Ninewe. A few of the Gwaeon, however, knew this was wrong. They rescued the captured ones, but the damage had already been done. The "fixed" Ninewe were given two forms. One beast and one more human. Some were stuck in variations between the two. So the few rebel Gwaeon gave them a safe haven in the Debuta Mountains and hid them from their brothers and sisters.
The second attempt at life was a success. The Gwaeon created a race called the Da'ld. They were perfect in form, marvelously beautiful, wise, and powerful (but nearly as powerful as the Gwaeon). But the Da'ld did something unexpected. They intermarried with the human form of the Dragon Ninewe and these children were known as the Meholanians. Powerful, but not nearly as beautiful or powerful as the Da'ld.
Some of the Meholanians who inherited the genetic attritbutes of the dragons were exiled to the Isle of Sheol to guard the Entrance to the Black Lands and known as the Asfaer.
The Gwaeon's last creation came from the Gwaeon Prince, Sael, prince of trickery and mayhem, who created the Arnog as a parody of the Da'ld.
The Arnog were ugly beings, but far more powerful than the Da'ld. The other Gwaeon hated them and sentenced the Arnog to forever serve the Da'ld.
Now the Meholanians were arrogant in their beauty and power and decided to created life for themselves. So they created Man. Man rebelled against their creators however and along with the Arnog, overthrew them and chased the Meholanians to the farthest corner of the world.
The Arnog and the Men intermarried and their race became known as the Mages.
But Man grew jealous of their more powerful cousins and sought to devise weapons to gain power over them. Naturally, the Mages were more powerful and a particularly bitter Mage (who was more Arnog than Mage) named Keleo devised a plan to get back at the race of Men. Thus the Great Mage Wars.
Oh and meanwhile, the Ninewe Dragons who were more human than dragon decided to call themselves the Boran. And they hid away in the swamps, away from all the wars. Seems to be a Ninewe thing because the Ninewe dragons didn't leave their havens in the Debuta Mountains until the Great Mages Wars and then during those wars they were almost entirely killed off.
Anyway, I think this explains Keleo and the wars a bit better. Before if was just like, "There was this dude named Keleo who went power hungry and decided to kill a bunch of people and raise a zombie-like army."
Still the Gwaeon are a little annoying in this version, but thinking about it, they've always been sort of annoying. Even way back in the first story I included them in. I think I was about thirteen when I wrote the story. The Gwaeon were these pissy beings who didn't want to help the humans and liked hiding in their really elaborate homes.
Hmmm...maybe they really haven't changed all that much.
Introductions
Well, I suppose introductions and an explaination are in order. My name is SJS Manacapilli and I've been alive for...long enough. (depending on your definition of alive anyway).
So now, why a blog? Because I like to lay out my thoughts and story ideas, it helps me think better.
For some reason I have that song from the Discovery Channel (the one about how awesome the world is) stuck in my head.
Welcome to the my imagination. Warning: I'm a bit...lacking...in the sanity dept.
So now, why a blog? Because I like to lay out my thoughts and story ideas, it helps me think better.
For some reason I have that song from the Discovery Channel (the one about how awesome the world is) stuck in my head.
Welcome to the my imagination. Warning: I'm a bit...lacking...in the sanity dept.
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