Today I was back to Silent Goddess for a bit. I can’t stay away from Eral for too long! He has some sass and some strong words for a kid to whom he’s otherwise shaping up to become a fun uncle.
Word Count: 1705
Eral snickered. “Yeah, how’s anyone gonna keep me out of trouble?”
Lin snorted. “I mean. We probably have a fishbowl around here.”
Eral raised his eyebrows. They’d developed something of a rapport, so he knew the kid was unlikely to actually try it. Even so, he couldn’t let anyone think he’d just roll over. “Kid, if you try to trap me in something, I don’t care what your dads say, I’ll kick your ass.”
I wrote a decent amount today I think! I was kind of wishy washy on what I wanted to work on for a bit, but I ended up doing more work on Fiorebell.
Word Count: 1740
More vines and smaller branches snaked their way after him, tangling his limbs and working their way up towards his face. This, Trace could not allow.
A small jab of purely mental pain lashed out from him, first at the tree and then to the surrounding area. Things faltered for a moment, but still he found himself wrapped up more and more and drawn ever closer to the trunk of that tree.
With a flash of silver eyes, Trace spread a hand wide and conjured up a flame, small and bright and eerily grey, above his palm. The light alone would be enough to scorch paper, and the vines attacking that arm drew back.
I wrote a very small amount last night before conking out with a headache. My brain was like No! But luckily I did plenty of writing today. Today I worked on a story tentatively called Fiorebell, a complete rehash and rewrite of a story I wrote … like 15 years ago. Gosh the old one needed an update.
Anyway, I think this is the first time any writing about Trace, one of my earliest OCs, has made it to my blog!
Word Count: 1914
“I came from the south, I think” Trace mused, making a show of looking over his shoulder at the door. “The fields led me this way.”
The woman nodded. “Well. You’ve come a long way, so it’s no surprise you don’t know. Be careful exploring the woods, won’t you dear? There’s witches and the like up those mountains. Nasty business.”
Trace’s brow pinched. “Oh. Do they come close?”
She shook her head. “Not as long as the fields are in view. So you should always keep us in sight if you decide to explore the trees, and I’ll be sure to keep track; if you go missing, I can let someone know about trying to find you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Trace reassured her. “I don’t plan to do anything stupid.”
Yet again I started kinda late, so I dunno if I’m actually done writing yet! However, I figured I’d give an excerpt anyway. Today’s focus is a story called Elias and the Titan.
Word Count: 1830
He passed by a few magical traps laid right into the trunks of trees or hidden among the foliage. He had to generate a constant, steady breeze around himself in order to disturb the leaves and notice them all, and with that careful navigating wove his way past several designed to incapacitate something as large and bulky as an elephant. A run of the mill human would be quite violently discouraged from continuing on.
So much for a calm stroll in the woods, Elias thought, wishing he had someone around to appreciate his joke. He’d gotten used to having an audience. He had to imagine the rolled eyes, which just wasn’t the same.
I decided to make a post before I’m done writing for the day because I’m going super slow and I don’t want to have to remember to make one later. Also I had a really fun moment with Eral while writing Silent Goddess. Somehow he’s become a fun grunkle (grumpy uncle) to a bunch of kids.
Word Count: TBD
After hitting three targets in quick succession, one of the boys cheered out loud and grinned up at where Eral hovered, his wings buzzing. “You’re so good with it,” he praised. “I wish I could aim that well.”
The boy had a rough scar over one eye, a scar that had long since healed but nonetheless left its impact. The kid couldn’t open his eye at all, which had probably frustrated his depth perception more than once in his life. Eral drifted down to be more level with him.
“I know all the adults around you probably say so, but it just takes practice, kid,” Eral assured him. “Not everyone’s good at it right away, and some people start off better than others. Me, I was good at it early on and now I’m pushing … gods, I’m almost forty now.”
The boy snorted. “You sure about that, pixie? You don’t look any older than Lin!”
The young man lightly punched the kid on the shoulder. “Watch it, squirt!”
“What can I say? I age gracefully. It can be pretty great to be me, really,” Eral teased. Some days more than others, perhaps, but it pleased him that he could say so. It wasn’t a lie.
I decided not to do a post yesterday because I kept bouncing between different stories and didn’t have a good excerpt out of any of them. And then today, I was going to write a bit more, but I got a cool number for my word count and couldn’t resist! Today it’s Eral, in a different story called Bottled Rage.
Word Count: 2222
“Awww, ‘runt’, godsdamn, I have never ever heard that one before,” Eral jeered. “What else you got?”
“I got plenty, twig,” the guy said gruffly. “But you best shut up now or I’ll just toss this bottle off the bridge instead.”
Eral blinked and his angry words did stop for a moment. He had to weigh what he thought the guy wanted him for against the chance that he actually would sink him in the river.
Not that the possibility truly scared him for long. “Just try it, shit heap,” he slurred, slapping the glass again. “If you think that’s all it takes you got another thing comin’! It’s shaped like my boot in your face and my sword in your eye!”
I voted today! Nerves about that occupied my mind most of the day, but then I came home and banged out some words. Continued my work on Silent Goddess today.
Word Count: 1811
Something big slammed down around him. Eral looked up, startled, and sighed as he found a strainer of some kind for cleaning vegetables had been set over him. The holes in it were long and narrow, leaving no chance for even him to slip through while giving him enough of a view of the two faces that leaned in to investigate him.
Eral shifted so he sat cross legged, and politely applauded the pair. “You got me! Congratulations, you’re rude and thorough.”
The pair blinked, then exchanged a look, then looked back at him. The man cleared his throat and nodded at the colander with a pointed expression. “That’s right, fae,” he assured him. “We’ve got you stuck, and there’s iron in that thing, so you’re not about to go pushing it around or playing your tricks through it.”
Eral stared at him, making an awkward pause as he made sure the guy didn’t have more bravado for him. “I’ve done no one any wrong here,” he said, surprisingly level for how annoyed he was. These people were superstitious, he understood, but all the same it slowed him down. “What exactly do you think I’d do, aside from hurt your feelings with some bad language?”
I started a bit late today, between work and having some dinner after. And tomorrow is Voting Day so. Yike.
Today’s story was a short entitled Silent Goddess and starring Eral the Arbor Pixie.
Word Count: 1801
Eral found it easy enough to go unnoticed in the cities of the clockwork kingdom. Anyone that noticed him didn’t pay much mind. He wasn’t the only small, flying thing to be found here, to his intrigue.
Somewhat recently, some up-and-coming tinkerers had unlocked the power of mechanical flight in small devices. Little drones on test flights fluttered from windows and between workshops. Some even bore delicate metalwork wings that fluttered similarly to his own.
For all he knew, some of these inventors had studied pixies or other small fae for their building. He’d have to look into that once he satisfied his current curiosity.
Here we go! Today I worked on a short story called “Talismans” featuring none other than Elias Dawn, adventurer extraordinaire and self proclaimed badass.
Word Count: 2052
“You, are, uh,” he stammered, appraising a man who looked like he’d been built with stone towers in mind. He stood something like six and three quarters of a foot tall, broad shouldered and heavily muscled. His hands were callused and scarred from a lot of work in the fields.
“A real big boy,” Elias finished as the man clenched his fists and stomped towards him. “What are you doing up here?”
I’m … Alive?
More or less! This year is not like other years, that’s for sure, and thus my writing productivity has not been like it has been in other years.
However! I’d still like to give NaNo a try. I’ll be doing updates for my word count daily, as much as I can, and I will give excerpts as well! As for the project…
The Muunfel project encompasses the histories and epics of many characters and places. The aim of this year’s NaNoWriMo endeavor is to flesh out some of these histories, from the antics of Elias Dawn and Eral the Arbor Pixie, to the history-altering adventures of Aaron Stride, to smaller-scale revolutions like Finnraal’s. Some familiar characters will make an appearance, as well as some new ones.
I hope for your support!