Happy Thanksgiving to my friends who celebrate it! I don’t really observe it anymore, though I did get to hang out with family today all the same! And even then, I managed some writing while hanging out. Who knows how good this writing is? I don’t, but I had fun with it.
“The Timewilds are different from the wilds everywhere else, I’ve heard. But I haven’t seen anywhere else to know.”
Erio’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I hadn’t heard much about it myself, until I met Arie. The Timewilds have a way of tricking you into mistaking how far you’ve gone or how long you’ve been moving in a direction, if you don’t pay attention. It’s like time has more ripples here than anywhere else.”
I spent the later half of today traveling – so it’s a wonder I managed to get some words! But words were indeed gotten. I couldn’t help making a small reference to a certain demigod of mischief, though he is not the focus of this story by any means.
Word Count: 1699
Autumnus had read accounts of known halfgods in other corners of Muunfel. They were not easy.
There was the child of the Oracle in Meraev. Even at only a few years old, a number of records had already reached beyond the Moondrop Sea of his penchant for mischief. The Oracle could handle such a child, of course, and he was far outside of any Synkan bloodline anyway.
There were the twin maidens born to an elf village not too far north of the Dragonrest mountains, decades ago. No one had heard of them in years, but during their formative years, lengthened by their elven blood, they vexed and confused an entire region.
Children of the elements had been recorded throughout history here and there. They often quietly disappeared from the records eventually, but in the meantime they were exemplary as the forces of nature they were.
Words words words! I actually started early today, which I rarely do. I almost don’t know what to do with all this free evening time I have now. Also whoops I keep not wanting to excerpt the more Exciting parts because I need to make sure they make sense to me so. Fantasy slice of life it is!
Word Count: 2226
Marina couldn’t man her stall for the entire day nonstop like she used to do. During the midday hour or so break, she had to take her leave from the market, packing up her things safely and bringing Vantage out of the brightest part of the day.
She found herself in the scraggly shade of a tree in one of Arelvo’s only maintained green spaces. It was a small park near the southern end of town, beyond which were rolling hills of grass and the occasional boulder. Long, smoothed-over scars from the last time great ice mountains had carved their way across the timewilds, leaving behind remnants of the Dragonrest mountains and whatever else they’d dragged along.
Vantage never really cared to look out at the scenery with her, but then again Marina wasn’t quite sure if he could see that far yet. She hadn’t asked many questions of the midwife that helped her with his birth, when could she expect certain milestones, things like that. For all anyone knew, a halfgod child could have an entirely different timetable than a fully mortal baby.
At least he’d grown consistently. Marina didn’t know what she’d do if she had to deal with an infant that didn’t grow up at the rate he should. The thought of being this sleepless a year or more down the line, all of it owed to waking up to feed the little scamp every few hours, made her shudder.
Today was a decent writing day – I actually got off work at a reasonable time, so I was able to enjoy myself and relax a bit before diving right into writing! Today I had some fun writing more about Lyrson, who I don’t think I’ve revealed here yet is actually a member of a new species that I am still working out the details for. Today’s excerpt is at least a hint at them!
Word Count: 2140
Fortune came and went out in the timewilds. Lyson knew this, and yet he still let himself be a little disappointed when thick grey clouds rolled over the sky in the early afternoon and opened up. Rain tamped down the grass and the dirt and darkened the distant views across the plains. The constant drumming of it formed a gentle roaring background noise to drown out any folk songs he might hum to himself to pass the time and the miles.
His antennae hung over the sides of his head, sticking to his cheeks, and Lyrson found himself shaking his head frequently to get the raindrops out of his eyes. His boots were soaked through, his bag heavy with the gloomy mood. He shivered once or twice and rued the fact that he was so far from peak; if he was a bit bigger and had a few protective scales grown in, he might be able to insulate himself better against the chill.
As it was, the copse of trees was hours behind him and it made little sense to turn back. So, with little shelter overhead and the constant tattoo of rain against his head, Lyrson trudged on, slipping occasionally against mud slicks hidden in the grass.
Today was really fun to write! I started late, and I wasn’t sure what I’d actually go with, but once I got started it really took off. I’m introducing yet another new character, the final member of my golden trio for the main story.
Word Count: 2189
Someone was singing, near one of the campfires on the other side of the would-be village. A deep, throaty voice rose and fell with the breeze, clear notes of simple joy for life. The sun had set not an hour ago, but the moons already shone bright in the sky, their half-shadowed faces casting a gentle glow over the grasses beyond where the firelight reached.
There was Eldest moon – she always seemed to loom so close in the sky, vibrant gray that approached white in its brilliance. She had half her face covered, and she set the example for the others.
River moon – the sister who took her own path, she always hovered a bit farther away from the cluster formed by the others, and their arrangement never seemed to affect her. Like Eldest, her face was roughly half covered, with perhaps a bit more of it showing (she was always a bit ahead of the others – rushing like the river for which she was named).
Little Brother moon stayed close to Eldest, though he couldn’t shine as bright as she. His face, or what showed of it, was a darker grey in the sky. He glowed, but modestly.
Behind them all lurked Shadow moon. She was shy, so the stories said. She preferred to look upon the sleeping earth from behind the others. Her face was half shining like the others, but Little Brother hovered in front of her, hiding her partially from view in the sky.
Cira Dawn isn’t the first Oracle that has ever taken up residence in her temple, but she might be the most decorated. The power that grants her the position enables her to see not only the futures, but a lot of the past as well, with almost all of time accessible to her with some effort. It also gives her the ability to create and resolve paradoxes on a whim.
Cira also communes with beings not on the physical plane, especially the gods. Many of them find her amusing or endearing, and would protect her if the need arose. In return, sometimes they are allowed to ride along in her headspace to view the world from a slightly more mortal perspective.
Wraith sprite quills can break if put under stress. They usually grow back eventually, but in the meantime it may affect some of their abilities, especially if more than one quill breaks. There aren’t too many nerves out near the tips, so it isn’t necessarily a painful injury to bear, but they can feel the gaps and greater difficulty with mental signals. For a people quite used to sharing surface thoughts with their community, it can get frustrating very fast.