It’s the end! What a crazy month it has been, but I made it and then some. I told myself that if I could, I wanted to try for 60k words instead of just 50k. I’m so proud that I made it! I even found myself a good stopping point to let the story sit for a little while, and let me plan what’s going to happen next.
“Fiiiine,” Elias relented. “I’ll just sneak in myself. But you’re gonna have to grab your own breakfast, too. Every thief for themselves.”
“I’m not a thief,” Eral countered. “I’m an opportunist! And sometimes opportunity strongly suggests I steal stuff. Haven’t had to steal on the road all the way here and now you’re telling me to steal shit in your own house.”
“That makes it more fun,” Elias countered. “And also it means there are like zero consequences, which is great all by itself. Tell me that’s not true, I dare you.”
Man, I was so restless while doing my writing today. I managed to make what I wanted to, at least. I think I’m definitely nearing a transition point where I can call it a wrap for the first “act” of the story and maybe take a break from it for a while, let it stew.
“I have a friend,” she noted aloud. “Her name is many many sounds long. Elias calls her Gladys. Have you met Gladys, Guinivere Bloodgaze, Sea Tyrant, the white wave’s Lady?”
Guinivere narrowed her eyes, but didn’t deign to answer.
Cira held up her hands as if she was staring through a wall of glass and grinned. “I think she takes after her mother, shall we see?”
A screeching roar, loud enough to shake the air around them, ripped across the sky. All eyes turned upward as a long shape darted out of the clouds above and plummeted towards them.
Oh man. Writing fight scenes is both difficult and fun. I know I definitely need some work to make this scene I worked on today much more badass, but I’m so pleased with it so far. 😀
With speed that could not come from a human, Cira twisted Guinivere’s arm back. There was a sickening crack and Guinivere squealed out a husky cry, but Cira wasn’t finished yet. She grabbed Guinivere’s hair in her other hand and yanked her close so she could whisper in her ear.
Elias didn’t hear what she said, but he saw the look of terror that crossed Guinivere’s face for an instant.
Then, Cira threw her to the ground so hard she left a rut in the dirt.
I’m having fun. More story things are happening, and another of my Vague Plot Events has arrived at last, so tomorrow I should be able to have a lot of fun writing that one out.
“Cira Dawn,” Guinivere greeted. Somehow, she managed to sound reverent and derisive at the same time. “I have heard so many marvelous things about you. I had hoped to have a chat with you and your son.”
Cira, standing boldly at the front of the group, tilted her head. In a show of her complete lack of concern, she glanced over her shoulder to count her entourage, and her eyes landed on Elias. With a faint smirk, she nodded at him. Something was flickering rapidly in her eyes already.
I didn’t write as much as I’ve been writing today, but it was a very lazy day (and I already won anyway so this is all just extra anyway). I’m betting tomorrow I’ll have a little fun with it.
“You’d think this place would fall apart without me,” Elias lamented. “I have been sitting at a desk for literal hours just dealing with whatever someone shoved in front of me. It’s no way to live, I tell you.”
Eral snickered and flitted closer to the worn out demigod. “You’re basically in charge here, right? Why not just tell them to stuff it?”
Elias snorted and lifted up a hand for Eral to land on the palm. “Honestly, I’m kinda concerned that if I did that, they’d just drag me to my desk anyway. They’re so used to kid-me doing everything they asked. I used to think it was cool, running things, but damn if it isn’t all busy work.”
I made it! I’m so proud! Especially because I’ll be continuing the story anyway, so I can keep updating with excerpts until the end of the month. The story has just been so much fun to explore, even without a set outline or idea of how I’ll wrap it all up.
For the excerpt, I’ll introduce one of the other kinds of fae to give Eral someone to contrast with. 😀
Eral drifted closer, glancing over the nearest surface of the crystal as a slow surge of green light swirled around pockets of blue. The dance of the lights could almost hypnotize him, he thought to himself, as he reached out a hand.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice startled him so badly he nearly dropped to the sloped stones below. Eral flinched back and looked around for the source of the voice before he realized that it wasn’t as loud as he’d have expected from one of the big folk.
Just as he thought that, he found him. A figure no taller than twelve inches stood on one of the curling vines made of gold that held up the giant crystal. He leaned his back against it, but it didn’t hide the long, silky blue flower petals that sprouted straight from his shoulders and formed a short cape. Swept back hair of soft periwinkle topped his head, and green lines traced over what was showing of his pale skin. He wore a fine tunic and slacks, both hemmed with delicate embroidery, especially the billowing sleeves cut to mimic the shape of the flower petals on his back.
Woo! I’m getting close to the goal, but I think after that I’m still going to keep on going with this story. I’m getting close to a fun scene, but in the meantime I had a rare opportunity to let Eral and Joleth get to talk to each other without Elias around to be, well, Elias at them.
“Hey, don’t stereotype,” Eral warned. “You met a buncha pixies back in that little town. We’ve all got different personalities. Just because we all know how to have a good time doesn’t mean anything.”
Joleth snickered. “I wish it was that simple for me,” she admitted. “Harmless fun and lots of laughter, that’s what everyone expects out of pixies. With me you’d think they expect me to pull some hellbeast out of my pocket.”
“Funny, people always expect that some dumb shit should shove me into a pocket. Or a box, or under a vase. Maybe I’ve been the hellbeast all along,” Eral mused.
Joleth couldn’t hold in a laugh. “You may be annoying sometimes, pixie, but I wouldn’t go that far.”
Alright, I played catch up again today. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the US who celebrated it! I had a lot of good food and made myself write a lot of good words. It was a decent day, though I’m kind of getting to a point in the story where I just need to let the characters have the reins, because I know what the next Big Event is but I’m not quite to it.
“If you play pretend, do your best not to startle the light babies,” Cira warned over her shoulder. “They can be very sensitive and their crying is a mournful thing, very sad.”
“You got it,” Eral said back, with no idea on Leleurya’s sweet sleeping earth what she was talking about.
Something told him that would be the norm while they were around Cira Dawn.
I actually am not done with my words for the night yet, but it’s getting late so I wanted to go ahead and make a post. I have a bit of a headache to power through but I think I can keep myself on track at least a little. I am pretty jazzed that I got to one of my favorite OCs of mine at last in the story. 🙂
“New friends, or maybe old ones, you already know my sweet boy. He likes to frolic in tricks, tricks, tricks,” she said. Then, with a thoughtful hum and a glance at the open air next to Joleth, she nodded. “Oh, I’m afraid I’ve been seeing things all out of order.”
As her gaze drifted to Elias again, almost as if asking him for help, he held up a hand and shook his head. “No worries,” he told her. Then, he finally gestured to her and faced Eral and Joleth both. “Allow me to introduce Cira Dawn, oracle of the temple, the Vaysighted, she who dances with the sun.”
I kicked ass today to catch up. Oh my gosh I was so tired and crabby all day and then once I actually got started here I was really enjoying myself. 😀
“The innkeeper said you had three in your group, mister Dawn, sir,” one of the caravaneers said meekly.
Elias smirked at him. “Yeah, the third is still sleeping,” he held open his jacket to reveal Eral leaning out of his inner pocket, arms hanging over the edge and barely holding his head up in the early morning.