Behold, what I have left to do this month, in a nutshell:
Finish finding all my starting characters.
Find a title.
Draw maps of important places I'm likely to screw up.
Research real historical events to tie into the story.
Find a name for the groupings of chapters inside of each part.
Find quotes to include at the start of each chapter grouping.
Finish loading sountrack songs to my computer.
Finish all planned prewriting(4 more 1k word short stories, and a 5k longer short story about an important event).
SS: The Burning of Watercross Keep
My breath was loud against the blanket I was squeezing as I huddled under the bed and listened to the commotion in the corridor outside. The moon was full, and shone in the narrow window, illuminating the bedroom with its pale light. The shouting grew louder and something crashed against a stone wall, and I whimpered like a dog. A dog. Where was my dog?
Ignoring my father's command to stay hidden at all costs, I crawled out from under the bed. A red glow was illuminating the room, and I smelled smoke. Fire. The keep was on fire. Ignoring the midnight autumn chill, I raced across the room, looking under chairs and in corners, but the dog was nowhere to be found.
“Where are you!” I shouted, forgetting I should keep quiet. “There's a fire, we need to get out, boy!”
I ran across to the door, and wrenched it open. The corridor was filling with smoke from the commotion further down the tower stairs, so I headed up, still calling for my dog. I was breathing harshly as I emerged at the top of the tower, coughing from the smoke. I immediately caught my breath as I emerged, staring out at the scene in horror.
Not only the keep was burning, but the village and the fields surrounding it. Everything was in flames, from here to each of the three rivers bordering my family's property. All this was the work of those people my father had warned me about, the dark ones. He never told me why they were coming, but the trips to the bridges, the wards he'd set up and the preparations around the castle were all to keep the men away. Evidentially, they'd failed, and he had come to my room to tell me to hide myself and my mind while he held them off. At that thought the spell was broken, and I whirled around. I was looking for my dog, then I would go back to my room where it was safe. Where was he?
“He's right here, Frances.” A figure cloaked in a heavy black cape stood between me and the stairs back down, holding something in his arms.
“You have him!” I shouted. “Is he safe?”
“Yes,” he replied. “See?” He put down the bundle he had been holding, and unwrapped it. My dog lay there on the ground, and wagged his tail when he saw me, but didn't lift his head.
I ran towards them, and then stopped. “He's not alright,” I said. “There's something wrong with him.”
“It's the smoke,” came the calm reply. “Can't you feel it yourself in your body? Imagine how it feels to someone smaller than you are. Come, let's get out of here before it's too late.”
I stood there, frozen between my father's abandoned command and my love for my dog. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“Your father sent me to come and take you away. Now hurry, there's not much time.”
“Wait, how do I know? You could be one of the dark ones, come to take me away. How do I know?”
“Your father gave me this,” he said, holding out a gloved hand on which rested a slim golden ring. My father's signet. I stretched out my hand towards it, then snatched it back.
“I don't believe you,” I declared, standing my ground above my pet. “That's not his ring. He's always taught me never to trust strangers, and I don't believe you're who you say you are.” The whimpering from the floor stopped, and I stared down in horror. There wasn't an animal there any longer, but only a blanket filled with ashes from the fire downstairs. I wrestled my gaze from the sight just in time to see and dodge a bolt of power emanating from the man's hand.
I slipped around him quickly and ran down the stairs. “Father!” I yelled. “Where are you?” I thought I heard a reply from further down the stairs, but couldn't be sure. I kept running, not bothering to ward my thoughts – they knew where I was. I rounded a corner of the staircase onto a landing, and there he was.
He was standing guard at the top of the stairs, his sword discarded on the ground behind him, the artifact still pulsing with a sharp blue light. In his off-hand, he held the iron circle that he used to strengthen his protection spells, but I screamed again as I saw his sword hand. It was chopped off at the wrist, and blood was streaming from it, yet he stood his ground, guarding the stairs. Guarding me. “Father!” I yelled again, as I felt a hand tighten around my neck.
I kicked out behind me, as he whirled around and shouted in anger. My captor shoved me to the side as he drew his sword and thrust it towards my father. I wrenched my neck around to see what was happening, sending bolts of pain down my spine. A flash of light lit the landing, and my captor dropped me, gasping for breath. Another came, then a third. Squinting, I saw my father with one hand towards the sky, pulling down the energy to save me, even as his own life was running out.
“Stop!” I screamed. “You'll die!”
“No,” said a cloaked man, striding up behind him and knocking him down with one blow, stopping the paralyzing flashes of light. “No, he won't die. Not now, at any rate.”
“No!” I said, backing against the wall and looking around myself. The man who had found me on the tower was still gasping on the stairs, a stream of dark liquid which was blood but at the same time without any life at all flowing down to the landing from beneath him. The only other man who had recovered was the one who had struck down my father. “No. You can't make me. My father was willing die to save me, and I won't let that happen in vain.”
The man looked over his shoulder for a moment, and I stole the moment to grab the sword from where it lay on the ground. It was too large for me, and I had to wield it with two hands. “You'll die,” I declared. “I'll kill you all for what you've done.”
He turned back to me, and started to laugh.
Ignoring my father's command to stay hidden at all costs, I crawled out from under the bed. A red glow was illuminating the room, and I smelled smoke. Fire. The keep was on fire. Ignoring the midnight autumn chill, I raced across the room, looking under chairs and in corners, but the dog was nowhere to be found.
“Where are you!” I shouted, forgetting I should keep quiet. “There's a fire, we need to get out, boy!”
I ran across to the door, and wrenched it open. The corridor was filling with smoke from the commotion further down the tower stairs, so I headed up, still calling for my dog. I was breathing harshly as I emerged at the top of the tower, coughing from the smoke. I immediately caught my breath as I emerged, staring out at the scene in horror.
Not only the keep was burning, but the village and the fields surrounding it. Everything was in flames, from here to each of the three rivers bordering my family's property. All this was the work of those people my father had warned me about, the dark ones. He never told me why they were coming, but the trips to the bridges, the wards he'd set up and the preparations around the castle were all to keep the men away. Evidentially, they'd failed, and he had come to my room to tell me to hide myself and my mind while he held them off. At that thought the spell was broken, and I whirled around. I was looking for my dog, then I would go back to my room where it was safe. Where was he?
“He's right here, Frances.” A figure cloaked in a heavy black cape stood between me and the stairs back down, holding something in his arms.
“You have him!” I shouted. “Is he safe?”
“Yes,” he replied. “See?” He put down the bundle he had been holding, and unwrapped it. My dog lay there on the ground, and wagged his tail when he saw me, but didn't lift his head.
I ran towards them, and then stopped. “He's not alright,” I said. “There's something wrong with him.”
“It's the smoke,” came the calm reply. “Can't you feel it yourself in your body? Imagine how it feels to someone smaller than you are. Come, let's get out of here before it's too late.”
I stood there, frozen between my father's abandoned command and my love for my dog. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“Your father sent me to come and take you away. Now hurry, there's not much time.”
“Wait, how do I know? You could be one of the dark ones, come to take me away. How do I know?”
“Your father gave me this,” he said, holding out a gloved hand on which rested a slim golden ring. My father's signet. I stretched out my hand towards it, then snatched it back.
“I don't believe you,” I declared, standing my ground above my pet. “That's not his ring. He's always taught me never to trust strangers, and I don't believe you're who you say you are.” The whimpering from the floor stopped, and I stared down in horror. There wasn't an animal there any longer, but only a blanket filled with ashes from the fire downstairs. I wrestled my gaze from the sight just in time to see and dodge a bolt of power emanating from the man's hand.
I slipped around him quickly and ran down the stairs. “Father!” I yelled. “Where are you?” I thought I heard a reply from further down the stairs, but couldn't be sure. I kept running, not bothering to ward my thoughts – they knew where I was. I rounded a corner of the staircase onto a landing, and there he was.
He was standing guard at the top of the stairs, his sword discarded on the ground behind him, the artifact still pulsing with a sharp blue light. In his off-hand, he held the iron circle that he used to strengthen his protection spells, but I screamed again as I saw his sword hand. It was chopped off at the wrist, and blood was streaming from it, yet he stood his ground, guarding the stairs. Guarding me. “Father!” I yelled again, as I felt a hand tighten around my neck.
I kicked out behind me, as he whirled around and shouted in anger. My captor shoved me to the side as he drew his sword and thrust it towards my father. I wrenched my neck around to see what was happening, sending bolts of pain down my spine. A flash of light lit the landing, and my captor dropped me, gasping for breath. Another came, then a third. Squinting, I saw my father with one hand towards the sky, pulling down the energy to save me, even as his own life was running out.
“Stop!” I screamed. “You'll die!”
“No,” said a cloaked man, striding up behind him and knocking him down with one blow, stopping the paralyzing flashes of light. “No, he won't die. Not now, at any rate.”
“No!” I said, backing against the wall and looking around myself. The man who had found me on the tower was still gasping on the stairs, a stream of dark liquid which was blood but at the same time without any life at all flowing down to the landing from beneath him. The only other man who had recovered was the one who had struck down my father. “No. You can't make me. My father was willing die to save me, and I won't let that happen in vain.”
The man looked over his shoulder for a moment, and I stole the moment to grab the sword from where it lay on the ground. It was too large for me, and I had to wield it with two hands. “You'll die,” I declared. “I'll kill you all for what you've done.”
He turned back to me, and started to laugh.
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