What's this, aside from the result of increasing frustration with the visual arts? It's an idea I've had for quite a while, and yet another way of working on "The Last Battle" without actually working on "The Last Battle". What you're about to read is a story from Sathyriel's past that didn't make it into the history books. With time, Memories fade, stories change, and some events are just never spoken of. This is a case where those involved believe the incident in question is better not shared with the general public and best forgotten by everyone, Of course, since this take place about thirty years before "The Last Battle", you'll already know how it turns out, if not how we reach that point.
I'm not sure what effect ths is going to have on the "real" story. Certainly it will require altering physical descriptions of Cyra. I almost wish I could fir it into "The Last Battle" somehow, since I like it and I think it could reveal some interesting character parallels. But as of now, I can't see any good and organic way to fit a nine page (and growing) flashback into a story that already has pacing issues.
Comments encouraged.
Official History
By the year 708 of the Fourth Age, Cyra’s small band of freedom fighters had grown into a full-fledged army. Under the guidance of Cyra and her generals, the warriors of the future Sathyriel began taking their land back from the Keltarian forces. Though there were defeats for Cyra’s forces along the way, the growing army only seemed to come back stronger from each loss. Despite the rising attentions of the Keltarian invaders, battles were won more often than lost and Cyra herself was never captured.
The Lost History
It was a chilly evening in late autumn when Talshak first learned that Cyra had been captured. Almost as soon as the messenger breathlessly gasped out the news, Talshak began preparations to leave for Fortress Ullok. He was still cautious. He traveled by night and took strange, winding flight paths avoiding main roads. The last thing he needed now was for the public to wonder why Lord Talshak had left the capitol, heading towards a fortress of minor strategic interest.
Talshak arrived at Fortress Ullok three days later, near dusk. The fortress’s commanding general and a small company of soldiers came to meet him as he touched down a short distance from the fortress proper. It was far less of a greeting than befitted someone of Talshak’s rank, but a full formal welcoming might have attracted attention. Under the circumstance, Talshak was pleased.
“Sire.” The general, a stout troll with a broken right horn, stepped forward and bowed deeply. Talshak eyed the kneeling troll. Just a few seasons ago, he would have paid this underling no attention, taken his loyalty for certain. But the changing mood of the land was beginning to affect even his own troops. Talshak was not unaware of the growing concern in his ranks that the rebellion was gaining strength. He heard the whispered tales of victories won by their troops, of desertion and betrayal by his own. His most trusted envoys brought back the beginnings of rumors from Keltaria that Talshak’s sanity was slipping, or that he had designs on ruling Keltaria itself. So when Talshak looked at this troll bent low before him, he scoured his every movement, his every breath, anything that might betray some hint of disloyalty. Trust was a luxury Talshak could no longer afford.
“General,” he answered at last, sweeping aside any further formalities. The troll rose, rolling his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. Talshak turned from him and started towards the fortress. The troll dismissed his men and hurried after Talshak, struggling to match his gait.
“Have you increased the guard?” Talshak asked, not looking to see if the troll was keeping up with him.
“The guard on the main entrance was increased by half as soon as we had her and the guard on the dungeon itself is double. All from within the fortress, as you requested, sire.”
“Good.” Talshak had sent orders ahead of him to that effect. It would stretch the watch and patrols around the fortress thin, but at this point he could not risk bringing in outside forces. The rebels could not be allowed to discover where their leader was being held.
“What is the status of the village?” Talshak asked, though he was fairly certain of the answer.
The troll gave a snort, which Talshak assumed was a laugh at the expense of the village in question.
“It’s been ours since we retook it, sire. No sign of the rebels, and the villagers won’t be turning on us again.”
“Make certain that they don’t. I grant you full authority to exercise force in advance of another potential uprising.”
“Yes, sire”. Talshak could hear the pleasure in his general’s voice. The messenger had spoken of casualties on Talshak’s side and the general and his men would be eager to take their revenge in full.
“What happened to the sword?” Talshak continued. His general’s pace slowed for a moment.
“The sword was lost when she fell,” he began slowly. “We searched the battlefield afterwards, but there was no trace of it. We think one of the rebels might have recovered it during the fight.”
Talshak said nothing. It did not matter, really. Deslordian would have made a good trophy, another symbol of his victory over the rebellion. But if the legends about the sword were true, it would be of no use to the rebels and possibly even less use to him. As long as it stayed out of Cyra’s possession, Talshak didn’t care where the sword was.
“Now,” Talshak said, tuning back to the troll at last. “Bring me to the dungeons. I wish to see the prisoner.”
Fortress Ullok, the troll general explained, had been built from the remains of a winery. The expansive wine cellar had been quickly converted into the fortress dungeons, where local dissidents were held and interrogated prior to their near inevitable execution. The stairs leading from the armory down into the dungeons had been widened when the winery became a fortress, but it was still a tight squeeze for a dragon. But Talshak managed to navigate the narrow passageway. He had to see for himself this creature that had managed to best his troops time and time again and pose the first real threat to his rule.
The dungeon was darker than night, even to Talshak’s sharp eyes. Windowless and completely underground, the cavernous space could only be seen as far as the light from the troll’s torch would carry. Beyond the fire’s glow, everything dissolved into black nothingness. It was cold, and the bare walls and floors of stone did nothing to lessen the chill. Judging by the way the troll was covering his nose, the dungeon’s scent was equally inhospitable.
Despite the dark, Talshak did not take long to find the prisoner’s cell. The rest of the dungeon was empty. Any insurgents taken in the battle had been executed quickly to discourage further uprising by the villagers. Talshak’s eyes slowly grew accustomed to the near total darkness and soon he could make out a small shape at the back of one cell, leaning slightly forward as he and his guide approached. They drew nearer and Talshak could hear the metallic jangle of chains as the figure in the cell strained to get a better look at them.
The troll stopped in front of the cell and set his torch into a sconce on the opposite wall. The cell was still only dimly lit, but it was enough. For the first time, Talshak faced his enemy, Cyra.
Talshak nearly laughed at the sight of her. He’d known for a long time that she was human, but he had expected some freakishly large giant of the species. Cyra seemed even smaller than most humans he had encountered before. She looked strong enough, he supposed, for one of their kind. But certainly no match for even an average dragon. This was the great rebel leader? This tiny, weak little human had evaded capture and defeated his armies repeatedly? This was the challenge to his reign?
“You got a visitor!” The troll banged loudly on the bars of the cell with the flat of his short sword. Only Cyra’s eyes moved in response. She seemed to take no notice of the troll, but her eyes widened at the sight of Talshak. He smiled, confident that even if Cyra did not recognize him, she had a healthy fear of the Keltarian dragons. But if she was afraid of him, she gave no further sign. She settled back against the far wall of the cell.
“Unlock the cell and leave us,” Talshak ordered quietly without taking his eyes from Cyra. “I will summon you if I need you again.”
The troll seemed about to protest, but stopped before he said anything. Dutifully, he drew a ring of keys from his belt and turned one in the lock. He took one last look at Talshak and, when the dragon gave no further orders, made his way back to the stairs.
Talshak remained where he was, watching Cyra. It was difficult to know if his orders that she not be harmed had been followed. She was pale, but nearly every report said she always looked that way and her almost white hair seemed to confirm that she was naturally fair. She had a few fresh injuries: a slash on her sword arm, a mace wound of her left side, and a gash on her head mostly indicated by dried blood. All three had been crudely dressed in an effort to keep her condition from deteriorating before Talshak arrived. The important thing was that she was alive, and in no danger of being otherwise just yet.
The chains worried Talshak. There were far too many. He could understand caution, certainly, but this was overdone. Her forearms were manacled to the wall so that they hung slightly above her head when she sat as she did now. Multiple chains ran around her arms and back to the wall behind her. Her ankles were secured in much the same manner, the main cuffs supported by numerous encircling chains. There were more chains still wrapped around her body: waist, chest, neck, and anywhere else the guards had though to put one. Their attachment to the wall was relatively slack, but Talshak doubted they allowed Cyra to stand very well. It troubled him because it meant his troops still feared her, even after seeing that she was just an ordinary human. They could have bound her with far less and she still could never have escaped. Talshak disliked the idea that his men still considered Cyra a threat, but that concern would soon be dealt with.
Cyra was meeting his gaze as he watched her. The blue eyes betrayed no fear. Her brows were drawn low in a severe glare, but not the fury he’d seen from so many other prisoners. Whatever she felt looking at him, she was hiding it well. But she had to know by now. She may even have guessed it when she was first taken captive. It was over. She would not escape. No help was coming and her remaining days were few.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked at last.
She may not have known at first, but now the torchlight fell on his various decorations and symbols of rank. Talshak was not surprised when she nodded slowly, still saying nothing.
“I know you, too,” continued Talshak. He grinned, stepping casually back and forth in front of the open cell door.
“You’re the Vaar’s little pet, aren’t you?”
Cyra gave a noncommittal grunt in response. She probably took it as an attempted insult, but Talshak was quite certain it was truer than she wanted to acknowledge. If the legends were true the Vaar took her in out of some sense of obligation to that tiny dragoncaller village Talshak had his men obliterate years ago. But after all this time, no dragon could find this little human anything more than an amusement. The local clans were all perfectly willing to rise up against the Keltarian forces, as Talshak had been brutal with the dragons. But that was it. They cared for their freedom, not Cyra.
“You’ve been causing some trouble lately, I hear,” Talshak went on lightly. “But nothing to worry about. We’ll soon have things right again.”
Of course it wasn’t as minor an issue as Talshak made it sound. He had brushed off the first reports of an uprising in the north, even when dragons were mentioned. It had seemed like all the others: easily handled by the local forces, nothing he needed to take a personal interest in. But time went on and the reports of rebellion only grew worse. Talshak had spent nights and days scouring the maps charting the most recent battles, trying to detect a pattern and devise an effective counterattack. He had been worried, but he could already feel his concerns subsiding.
“Oh!” he remarked as though he had just thought of it. “Has anyone told you what became of that little village you fought so hard for?”
Cyra looked up, likely before she could think to stifle her emotion and feign disinterest. Talshak smiled to himself. He’d found a crack in her armor.
“Naturally, your people were completely shaken when you fell,” explained Talshak as if he were describing something of absolutely no consequence. “A few of them fought on, but most either fled or surrendered as soon as you were taken. I’ve been told the ringleaders were put to death publicly the next day. We’ve had troops searching the surrounding area for any remaining dissidents, but they seem to have run off to some far distant retreat. So the village is fully under our control again, as it will stay.”
Talshak watched in satisfaction as Cyra’s head lowered.
“Perhaps you were hoping some of them might come to rescue you,” Talshak mused. “Or were you counting on the Vaar? That would be interesting. We haven’t killed a dragon in some time.”
Cyra suddenly lunged forward and roared at him. As Talshak had predicted, the chains kept her from getting very far, but still he was taken aback. Her furious scream wasn’t just a random howl of rage. Talshak knew it well, from the days when the clans still fought against his armies, before repeated defeats forced them to resign themselves to the safety of the weyrs. It was the Vaar’s honor cry; the traditional response to a threat against the clan. And when Cyra roared it at him, the sound, the motion of her lunge, the spark of fury in her eyes, everything about her made Talshak think of his confrontations with the Vaar. He knew full well the creature before him was a human, but everything about her as she answered his threat with the honor cry told him this was a dragon. He’d known humans to imitate dragons in the past, but this was different. It was too perfect, too natural, even as it seemed so wrong coming from that diminutive form. Talshak drew back, but quickly stepped forward again, hoping Cyra hadn’t noticed. He would never admit it to her, but he was starting to believe that the Vaar might actually consider this human foundling to be one of their own.
“It must be difficult for you,” Talshak began softly. He lowered his head and began to enter the cell.
“You want to be rescued, of course. But you know full well there’s no hope. And anyone who comes for you will certainly be killed. Which you wouldn’t want, I suppose. And you know by now you can’t escape on your own.
Talshak now stood close enough to touch Cyra. She could have reached him as well, but he wasn’t concerned about it. Even if she were free, armed and armored, Talshak could have torn her apart before Cyra even landed a blow on him. He reached out a clawed finger and touched her cheek.
“I know,” he murmured, his mock sympathy sounding nearly genuine. “I know.”
He began stroking Cyra’s cheek, from the far corner of her left eye to her hard, set jaw. She did not react. Her head remained perfectly still, turned to the side as if the dragon’s touch had no effect on her. It was exactly the reaction Talshak had hoped for. Let her think he was only mocking her. Better if she never guessed what was coming.
He began so gradually that Cyra didn’t even notice the change. Just a little more pressure, not enough to hurt, barely enough to notice. Then a little more. Then a little more. Even in the faint torchlight, dim already and mostly hidden by Talshak’s body, Talshak could see the muscles in Cyra’s face tensing. The blue eyes narrowed and the already tight jaw clenched tighter still. She was trying to keep up the façade of indifference when everything in her wanted to react. Talshak persisted, watching Cyra’s face, waiting for the sign. He didn’t quite know what he was looking for, what threshold he wanted her to cross. And then he saw it. It only lasted a second, an almost imperceptible flash of teeth behind a curled lip. But it was enough, and Talshak struck.
The dragon changed nothing in his demeanor. No motion or expression gave him away. He touched the corner of Cyra’s eye, just like every other time. But he didn’t stop. His sharp claw tore into her soft skin, rewarding him with a hot burst of wet blood.
Cyra’s brave face evaporated. She still cut off her shocked cry of pain halfway, but she couldn’t fight her instincts any longer. She thrashed, struggled, strained against the chains in a futile attempt to get away. Of course it was useless. Talshak easily pinned her head back against the wall with one hand and continued his work. Her flesh opened easily and he could have cut her face open in an instant, but he took his time, slowly dragging his claw down her cheek and pressing increasingly deeper. Cyra stared at him wide eyed in horror. She didn’t scream. Her mouth remained tightly shut; lips curled back, breath coming in and out from between her teeth in hisses or air almost as hot as the blood dripping down onto Talshak’s hand. Her whole body shook with all the pain and terror and rage she couldn’t hold back anymore. But she didn’t scream.
Talshak finished at her jawline, ending the gouge in Cyra’s cheek with a particularly deep dig into her skin. He released her from his grip. Cyra gasped and flung her head to the side, shielding her torn cheek against the cell wall. She still drew the same hissing breaths in, but released them in sharp gasps that were cut off by a fierce snap of her teeth, as if she were biting back screams. Talshak observed all of this, calmly wiping the blood from his claw and hand. He considered saying something to Cyra, but thought the better of it. Nothing he said would be as effective as what he had just done.
Talshak turned his back to Cyra and left the cell. The torch had nearly burned down now and he could just barely make out Cyra’s slumped body in the back of the cell. Only the sound of alternating hisses and raspy exhales told Talshak that Cyra was still there, still alive. He called for the troll general.
The general rushed down the stairs with a fresh torch. He grabbed the spent one from the wall and snuffed the remaining embers. He stole a quick glance a Cyra, but if he could even tell what Talshak had done to her, he said nothing.
“Double the guard over the next three days,” Talshak ordered. “Pull troops from as many of the local towns and villages as you can reach over the next three days. Just a few from each area. Not enough to arouse any suspicions.”
“Yes, sire,” answered the troll. He took another furtive glance into Cyra’s cell.
“I will be returning to the capitol immediately,” Talshak continued. “I will be sending the First Battalion out and they will arrive here in six days to collect the prisoner.”
Talshak paused. He didn’t say what would happen next. But it didn’t matter. She knew. She had to know. He leaned in closer to the guard, but did not lower his voice.
“She is to be handed over to the First Battalion alive, but I don’t care what you do with her otherwise. Just so long as she survives the trip back to the capitol. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sire.” The general answered automatically, but Talshak was certain he would be happy to give his men the news. As much as they hated anyone who had turned against Talshak’s regime and took up arms against them, his troops hated Cyra, the one who gave this latest uprising its strength even more. Letting them take out their anger on her would be good for morale, though not nearly as good as Cyra’s public execution. The general took a last look into the cell. Cyra hadn’t moved, hadn’t even looked up. Talshak hadn’t expected her to. She had nothing left.
“Dismissed,” Talshak finished simply. He had no desire to drag out his stay any longer. He could take a more direct path back to the capitol while still keeping largely out of sight. He’d be there in two days, but the battalion traveling by land would take at least four to reach the fortress. There would be anxious moments in those next few days, but for now, Talshak felt content. Soon enough, Cyra would be dead, the rebellion would fall, and he would be in control again, as it should be.
Four days after Talshak’s departure, Fortress Ullok came under attack. Working off of information from their scouts, the rebel generals were able to detect unusual activity at the fortress and gather troops for a raid. The surprise attack was successful and all Keltarian forces were either killed or taken prisoner.
Cyra was freed from the fortress dungeon roughly ten days after being captured. She was not conscious when her forces reached and was suffering from numerous untreated injuries, many of them severe.
Though no one dared to say it, most believed she would not survive.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Monday, January 15, 2007
The Last Battle: Part 9, Draft 1
A little bitty transtional section, taking us through some of Kata's ride to the border. I've been told the pace of the story is a little slow, a point which I do not dispute. My plan right now is to plow through and get the whole thing written start to finish before I start making edits (with the possible exception of Apex 1, which may get edited when I reach it chronologically). But I think you'll all be happy to know that the pace is going to pick up in the next few segments. We're going into a flashback showing how Kata and Santok meant. And given that they're soldiers from warring countries, you can probably guess it was in less than pleasant circumstances. Also, a story that I hinted at earlier will be told, though possibly not for a few posts yet.
Oh and "Dray Fandhil" is the name of the captiol city of Sathyriel (subject to change as always). "Dray" was a dragon caller term for "village". As it says in the history, Cyra built the capitol on the site of the dragon caller village where she was born. In reality, it's a weird version of "dragon foothills", a reference to the capitol's proximity to the dragon mountain.
Comments happily accepted.
Departing from Dray Fandhil after the Sending always took a long time. Even the roads that were normally little traveled seemed crowded with knights traveling all over the kingdom and beyond. Knights returning home with their families traveled at a leisurely pace to accommodate the young children. Knights who were traveling in groups often stayed in town for just a little while to finalize the plans for the coming mission, though some had worked this out ahead of time and were on their way immediately. Knights on solo missions like Kata chose a pace to fit their mission and destination. Some even stayed at the local inns and taverns for a few days, seeking to avoid the crowds from the Sending and still get away from the castle for a while.
Kata knew by now the fastest way to leave Dray Fandhil and get to the roads heading southwest. It was a roundabout route winding through the town: left at the central fountain, down Temple Cross, right two turns before the ruins, through too alleyways so narrow that Kata always worried that Tally would get stuck, past Wolf’s Hollow tavern, two more rights, and out the Southern Gate.
“Never ride faster than you need to,” Brogan had told Kata years before. “It wears you out and it wears the horse out and you never know when you might need the speed you wasted. Besides that, it riles the villagers. Knight charging along to get somewhere attracts attention. Starts rumors that something bad’s up.”
So Kata rode a little slower than she might have. There was no way to let Santok know she was coming until she was quite near the border anyways, so the rush wasn’t necessary. Riding when she didn’t have to be somewhere at a set time was a rare pleasure for Kata, so she made certain to enjoy it. She chose roads that took her through the most picturesque countryside. The southwestern roads crossed through the edge of the great forests of the beastmen. Even when she passed through the fringes of the vast wood, the leafy canopy was thick enough all but to block the sun entirely. Kata watched the tiny spots off dappled light on the dusty road and Tally’s mane pass by and grow progressively smaller. She spent a night in a tiny forest village as the chief’s guest and feasted on a roast caught fresh that very evening. She came out of the forest the next day and was greeted by fields of wildflowers coming into bloom. She met a small band of centaurs heading west to Evonstal and joined them for a while. They talked of the beauty of spring and the signs of the coming weather. The youngest centaur didn’t speak a word the whole trip and stayed close to his mother’s side. But just before they parted ways, he handed Kata a little bundled of herbs, which he whispered were “for your horse”. Tally devoured them that night at a small inn and seemed eager to go the next morning.
But still, there were long stretches of road with little to occupy Kata’s mind. Tally knew where they were headed, so she only had to direct him when she was ready to stop for a rest. So Kata found herself thinking of Santok, and the time they had first met.
Oh and "Dray Fandhil" is the name of the captiol city of Sathyriel (subject to change as always). "Dray" was a dragon caller term for "village". As it says in the history, Cyra built the capitol on the site of the dragon caller village where she was born. In reality, it's a weird version of "dragon foothills", a reference to the capitol's proximity to the dragon mountain.
Comments happily accepted.
Departing from Dray Fandhil after the Sending always took a long time. Even the roads that were normally little traveled seemed crowded with knights traveling all over the kingdom and beyond. Knights returning home with their families traveled at a leisurely pace to accommodate the young children. Knights who were traveling in groups often stayed in town for just a little while to finalize the plans for the coming mission, though some had worked this out ahead of time and were on their way immediately. Knights on solo missions like Kata chose a pace to fit their mission and destination. Some even stayed at the local inns and taverns for a few days, seeking to avoid the crowds from the Sending and still get away from the castle for a while.
Kata knew by now the fastest way to leave Dray Fandhil and get to the roads heading southwest. It was a roundabout route winding through the town: left at the central fountain, down Temple Cross, right two turns before the ruins, through too alleyways so narrow that Kata always worried that Tally would get stuck, past Wolf’s Hollow tavern, two more rights, and out the Southern Gate.
“Never ride faster than you need to,” Brogan had told Kata years before. “It wears you out and it wears the horse out and you never know when you might need the speed you wasted. Besides that, it riles the villagers. Knight charging along to get somewhere attracts attention. Starts rumors that something bad’s up.”
So Kata rode a little slower than she might have. There was no way to let Santok know she was coming until she was quite near the border anyways, so the rush wasn’t necessary. Riding when she didn’t have to be somewhere at a set time was a rare pleasure for Kata, so she made certain to enjoy it. She chose roads that took her through the most picturesque countryside. The southwestern roads crossed through the edge of the great forests of the beastmen. Even when she passed through the fringes of the vast wood, the leafy canopy was thick enough all but to block the sun entirely. Kata watched the tiny spots off dappled light on the dusty road and Tally’s mane pass by and grow progressively smaller. She spent a night in a tiny forest village as the chief’s guest and feasted on a roast caught fresh that very evening. She came out of the forest the next day and was greeted by fields of wildflowers coming into bloom. She met a small band of centaurs heading west to Evonstal and joined them for a while. They talked of the beauty of spring and the signs of the coming weather. The youngest centaur didn’t speak a word the whole trip and stayed close to his mother’s side. But just before they parted ways, he handed Kata a little bundled of herbs, which he whispered were “for your horse”. Tally devoured them that night at a small inn and seemed eager to go the next morning.
But still, there were long stretches of road with little to occupy Kata’s mind. Tally knew where they were headed, so she only had to direct him when she was ready to stop for a rest. So Kata found herself thinking of Santok, and the time they had first met.
Monday, January 08, 2007
The Last Battle: Part 8, Draft 1
I'm trying to finish scenes before I post the though I don't know how long that will last. Later scenes may be longer, so you'll either be getting fragments again or have long waits between new segments.
I think I'm still getting back into the swing of things, given how long it took me to write this. I'm not getting around to it every day, but this is certainly more productive than I've been in a while. I'm not 100% staisfied with a lot of things, like parts of Cyra's speech. And I haven't decided what Kata ends up doing during the moment of silence. But I'm really trying to make myself get the whole thing down before I start worrying about the editing.
This is the first mention of Kata's religion, Orutet, which may later get a name change. It's a polytheistic faith with patron gods for pretty much all aspects of life. Oruteian devotees regularly worship a maximum of three gods, each of which is chosen at a different point in their lives. Three times a year, there are ceremonies to honor the entire pantheon, which help retain the unity of the faith. Kata's two patron goddesses are the goddess of justice and the goddess of battle. I have some notes on Orutet written several months ago, but there's not a whole lot more there than what I just told you.
"The Last Battle" is currently 14.044 words and roughly 39 regular 8.5 x 11 pages long, counting the scene i haven't posted yet (though I do use 14 point font which is easier for me to read). I think it is going to be a novel when it's done. Who knew?
Comments welcome, as always.
The castle grounds were already crowded with knights by the time Kata had retrieved Tally from the stables. She made her way towards the other mounted knights, who were assembled at the far end of the grounds near the main gate. Knights who brought their steeds to the Sending would be departing as soon as the ceremony ended and typically had a long way to travel. When the gates were opened, the mounted knights traditionally exited first.
Kata greeted a few of the knights she was friendly with before picking a spot to the left of the gates. She climbed up into Tally’s saddle. Even though she was far from the castle itself, being on horseback gave Kata a good vantage point. She could see knights talking to their friends, giving their armor a final check, or steadying their horses. Some were with their families, either preparing to travel home together for a local assignment or saying goodbye before a mission in some far off location. Knights who were just arriving squeezed carefully through the crowd, searching for familiar faces in the sea of armor. Most knights wore full armor to the sending, regardless of their plans afterward, but some who wouldn’t be leaving for a few days opted for the formal garments instead. The bright morning sun reflecting off of so much metal was dazzling bright and Kata frequently had to shield her eyes as she surveyed the crowd.
The trumpeters at the castle windows blew a sudden fanfare and a cheer went up from the knights. The fifteen members of the Knights’ Council filed out onto the lower balcony. They saluted the cheering knights who returned the salute. It was hard to identify the individual members of the Council from Kata’s distant vantage point. But she could make out Sir Argonios, due to his great height. Sir Mardet, the current head of the Council, stepped forward and began his speech. His voice carried well, but Kata was only half listening. She’s been to numerous Sendings before and though the various heads of the Council were usually eloquent, they often said much the same things. She tried to pay attention, but Mardet’s words about how each knight’s mission was of great importance to the kingdom’s well being were nothing new. In Kata’s mind, she was already riding up the faint dirt path to the main gates of Santok’s fortress, watching for him to come and greet her.
Sir Mardet concluded his speech and the knights cheered and applauded. Now the religious leaders began to assemble on the middle balcony. One by one, they stepped forward and gave their blessing to the faithful among the crowd. Kata listened politely until the Oruteian guide stepped up to speak. As he reminded the followers of her faith to respect the influence that all the gods had on their lives and the world entire and to seek harmony with the whole pantheon through their patron deities, Kata silently asked Idro and Sethato to set her path and guide her sword in her coming journey.
The blessings ended and the crowd observed a moment of reflective silence. It still amazed Kata that such an enormous gathering could fall so completely silent all together. The silence was not beholden to any particular religion. It was meant for private introspection in whatever form each individual wished. Kata knew many knights who used the moment to remember fallen comrades. Some prayed, and others thoughts of their families.
The trumpeters marked the end of the silence with a rousing fanfare. The knights began cheering louder than ever. Kata looked up at the castle towers. An excited cry rose up as Brenn came swooping around from the back of the castle. The arrival of the visiting dragon was always a highlight of the Sending. Kata felt it was the only part that really changed from year to year. Some dragons made a single stately circle around the castle before landing, with no embellishment. Brenn was clearly not one of those dragons. He made a wide arc away from the castle wall and flew out over the crowd. He came so low that some of the knights might easily have touched his feet as he streaked overhead. With a magnificent twist of his body, he launched himself skyward again, circled the castle one last time, and came to rest at last on the high balcony. The cheering continued and even seemed to gain fervor as Cyra herself slowly proceeded onto the balcony to meet her brother. Brenn repositioned himself behind Cyra so as not to block her from the crowd. The cheering slowly died down and Cyra began to speak:
“I thank Sir Mardet for his wonderful speech. I fully believe, as he does, that the missions every one of you will set out on this day are of vital importance to your kingdom. By undertaking these duties, you are helping to ensure the safety and well being of Sathyriel.
“Yet you yourself are of equal importance, and not just because I know you will carry out your missions with honor and dedication, however challenging they may be. You are knights of Sathyriel. Wherever you may find yourselves and whatever task may come to you, you are representatives for your country and your fellow knights. Before all else, it is the task of each and every one of you to uphold the code of knighthood and the honor of your kingdom.
“Your standing as a knight does not come from me or the Knight’s Council. It comes from the people of Sathyriel. In taking on the responsibility of knighthood, you have sworn to defend these people. Serve them well. Be worthy of the respect and admiration they will give you. Know that it has been earned by the knights who came before you. Honor their deeds and set an example to inspire the knights yet to come.”
Cyra drew her sword. The crowd began to stir with anticipation.
“Knights of Sathyriel,” Cyra called, her voice growing louder, “I hold you to the vows you have made. I call upon you to serve your country. I send you to where you are needed to defend Sathyriel.”
Cyra raised Deslordian in salute to the knights. Brenn gave a thunderous roar and breathed an impressive plume of flames into the air. The knights roared and cheered, raising up their own weapons until the castle grounds were a shimmering sea of metal. Kata lifted her own sword, so entirely caught up in the excitement that she almost didn’t hear the call to assemble into formation. Guiding Tally carefully as the other mounted knights made their way to the gates, she managed to secure her correct position. The gate guards saluted and the knights responded in kind. Sir Mardet called out the order to hold formation as the gates began to move. At last, Kata could see full stretch of Castle Way as the gates creaked open and settled. The local citizens lined the streets to watch the procession while castle guards kept them at a safe distance. Sire Mardet gave the forward order and Kata set off with her fellow knights, on her way at last.
I think I'm still getting back into the swing of things, given how long it took me to write this. I'm not getting around to it every day, but this is certainly more productive than I've been in a while. I'm not 100% staisfied with a lot of things, like parts of Cyra's speech. And I haven't decided what Kata ends up doing during the moment of silence. But I'm really trying to make myself get the whole thing down before I start worrying about the editing.
This is the first mention of Kata's religion, Orutet, which may later get a name change. It's a polytheistic faith with patron gods for pretty much all aspects of life. Oruteian devotees regularly worship a maximum of three gods, each of which is chosen at a different point in their lives. Three times a year, there are ceremonies to honor the entire pantheon, which help retain the unity of the faith. Kata's two patron goddesses are the goddess of justice and the goddess of battle. I have some notes on Orutet written several months ago, but there's not a whole lot more there than what I just told you.
"The Last Battle" is currently 14.044 words and roughly 39 regular 8.5 x 11 pages long, counting the scene i haven't posted yet (though I do use 14 point font which is easier for me to read). I think it is going to be a novel when it's done. Who knew?
Comments welcome, as always.
The castle grounds were already crowded with knights by the time Kata had retrieved Tally from the stables. She made her way towards the other mounted knights, who were assembled at the far end of the grounds near the main gate. Knights who brought their steeds to the Sending would be departing as soon as the ceremony ended and typically had a long way to travel. When the gates were opened, the mounted knights traditionally exited first.
Kata greeted a few of the knights she was friendly with before picking a spot to the left of the gates. She climbed up into Tally’s saddle. Even though she was far from the castle itself, being on horseback gave Kata a good vantage point. She could see knights talking to their friends, giving their armor a final check, or steadying their horses. Some were with their families, either preparing to travel home together for a local assignment or saying goodbye before a mission in some far off location. Knights who were just arriving squeezed carefully through the crowd, searching for familiar faces in the sea of armor. Most knights wore full armor to the sending, regardless of their plans afterward, but some who wouldn’t be leaving for a few days opted for the formal garments instead. The bright morning sun reflecting off of so much metal was dazzling bright and Kata frequently had to shield her eyes as she surveyed the crowd.
The trumpeters at the castle windows blew a sudden fanfare and a cheer went up from the knights. The fifteen members of the Knights’ Council filed out onto the lower balcony. They saluted the cheering knights who returned the salute. It was hard to identify the individual members of the Council from Kata’s distant vantage point. But she could make out Sir Argonios, due to his great height. Sir Mardet, the current head of the Council, stepped forward and began his speech. His voice carried well, but Kata was only half listening. She’s been to numerous Sendings before and though the various heads of the Council were usually eloquent, they often said much the same things. She tried to pay attention, but Mardet’s words about how each knight’s mission was of great importance to the kingdom’s well being were nothing new. In Kata’s mind, she was already riding up the faint dirt path to the main gates of Santok’s fortress, watching for him to come and greet her.
Sir Mardet concluded his speech and the knights cheered and applauded. Now the religious leaders began to assemble on the middle balcony. One by one, they stepped forward and gave their blessing to the faithful among the crowd. Kata listened politely until the Oruteian guide stepped up to speak. As he reminded the followers of her faith to respect the influence that all the gods had on their lives and the world entire and to seek harmony with the whole pantheon through their patron deities, Kata silently asked Idro and Sethato to set her path and guide her sword in her coming journey.
The blessings ended and the crowd observed a moment of reflective silence. It still amazed Kata that such an enormous gathering could fall so completely silent all together. The silence was not beholden to any particular religion. It was meant for private introspection in whatever form each individual wished. Kata knew many knights who used the moment to remember fallen comrades. Some prayed, and others thoughts of their families.
The trumpeters marked the end of the silence with a rousing fanfare. The knights began cheering louder than ever. Kata looked up at the castle towers. An excited cry rose up as Brenn came swooping around from the back of the castle. The arrival of the visiting dragon was always a highlight of the Sending. Kata felt it was the only part that really changed from year to year. Some dragons made a single stately circle around the castle before landing, with no embellishment. Brenn was clearly not one of those dragons. He made a wide arc away from the castle wall and flew out over the crowd. He came so low that some of the knights might easily have touched his feet as he streaked overhead. With a magnificent twist of his body, he launched himself skyward again, circled the castle one last time, and came to rest at last on the high balcony. The cheering continued and even seemed to gain fervor as Cyra herself slowly proceeded onto the balcony to meet her brother. Brenn repositioned himself behind Cyra so as not to block her from the crowd. The cheering slowly died down and Cyra began to speak:
“I thank Sir Mardet for his wonderful speech. I fully believe, as he does, that the missions every one of you will set out on this day are of vital importance to your kingdom. By undertaking these duties, you are helping to ensure the safety and well being of Sathyriel.
“Yet you yourself are of equal importance, and not just because I know you will carry out your missions with honor and dedication, however challenging they may be. You are knights of Sathyriel. Wherever you may find yourselves and whatever task may come to you, you are representatives for your country and your fellow knights. Before all else, it is the task of each and every one of you to uphold the code of knighthood and the honor of your kingdom.
“Your standing as a knight does not come from me or the Knight’s Council. It comes from the people of Sathyriel. In taking on the responsibility of knighthood, you have sworn to defend these people. Serve them well. Be worthy of the respect and admiration they will give you. Know that it has been earned by the knights who came before you. Honor their deeds and set an example to inspire the knights yet to come.”
Cyra drew her sword. The crowd began to stir with anticipation.
“Knights of Sathyriel,” Cyra called, her voice growing louder, “I hold you to the vows you have made. I call upon you to serve your country. I send you to where you are needed to defend Sathyriel.”
Cyra raised Deslordian in salute to the knights. Brenn gave a thunderous roar and breathed an impressive plume of flames into the air. The knights roared and cheered, raising up their own weapons until the castle grounds were a shimmering sea of metal. Kata lifted her own sword, so entirely caught up in the excitement that she almost didn’t hear the call to assemble into formation. Guiding Tally carefully as the other mounted knights made their way to the gates, she managed to secure her correct position. The gate guards saluted and the knights responded in kind. Sir Mardet called out the order to hold formation as the gates began to move. At last, Kata could see full stretch of Castle Way as the gates creaked open and settled. The local citizens lined the streets to watch the procession while castle guards kept them at a safe distance. Sire Mardet gave the forward order and Kata set off with her fellow knights, on her way at last.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
The Last Battle: Part 7, Draft 1
Ye olde change of plans. This is obviously not the next part of "New Story". It's not even the part of "Last Battle" I already had written but didn't put up here. That one takes place after Apex 1 and I decided that posting it now would reveal something I don't quite want to tell you about before it comes up in the story. So you probably won't be seeing that one for a long time.
What you've got here is me plowing through the second half of the last scene I posted on the blog. I'm trying to work on just getting the thing written, as I know it's going to need editing whether I plow through without regard to quality or spend 27 minutes crafting each sentence into perfection. If you do want a bit of a spoiler, this is the last time Cyra and Rayna will be together before Apex 1 happens.
Comments greatly desired. Seriously. If nobody's reading this, I can just skip posting it and play more Zelda.
Brenn said something to Argonios and Cyra began to translate. Kata wasn’t fully paying attention. She had seen dragons at past Sendings before and even attended a hatching once. But this was really the closest she had been to a dragon. As far as Kata could tell, Brenn was a full-grown dragon. Even when his head and neck were lowered, he was substantially taller than even Sir Argonios. The dragon wasn’t merely blue, he was a variety of blues. Every individual scale seemed to contain multiple hues that shifted and changed as he breathed and the sunlight caught them differently. Like most dragons, his body was mainly a dark shade, while his underbelly was lighter to make him less visible from beneath as he flew. He had four horns, two larger ones near where his head and neck met, and two smaller ones above his brow ridges. Cyra had told Kata that the smaller horns were particular to male dragons, a fact that had come up when Kata was trying to determine the gender of newborn dragons at the last hatching. Brenn slowly drew his head up and away from Argonios, regaining his full towering height. He seemed to always move slowly, though Kata wondered if that was just a side affect of being among what he perceived as small and delicate company.
Brenn and Cyra moved to stand in front of Kata. The dragon lowered his head again and Kata found that having his extremely large face so close to hers was a little unnerving. As Cyra finished growling out an introduction, Brenn puffed out his heated air greeting. The two regarded each other for a moment. Then Brenn turned to Cyra with a few deep vocalizations.
“He wants to know how you got your scar,” Cyra explained.
Cyra pointed and Kata glanced down at her arm. She vaguely recalled from Cinnet’s material on proper etiquette when meeting a dragon that dragons regarded scars as signs of a great warrior. Kata figured it was because their tough, scaly hides prevented them from getting many.
“I got it fighting a rogue Tals clan dragon while I was returning from the Battle of Faell.”
Kata spoke to Brenn as she answered. Cyra already knew the story, or at least, the part that she told people about. Brenn rumbled deep in his throat, apparently finding this explanation acceptable.
“Where did you get that one?” Kata asked, indicating a long mark across Brenn’s lower neck and chest. Cyra translated for the dragon and he gave his response.
“He got it during the Independence War. He was protecting a civilian from a Keltarian soldier.”
Kata didn’t know much about dragon expressions, but she almost felt like Brenn was smiling at her. Cyra certainly looked happy to see her brother sharing war stories with Kata.
The pair moved on to the Suto Teg priest. He repeated his bent elbowed bow again and pulled out a scroll. He then launched into a lengthy recitation in Rannak, which Kata guessed to be the official Suto Teg greeting to a dragon. Again, Kata couldn’t be certain of Brenn’s emotions, but she though he looked a little uncomfortable, repeatedly shifting his weight from one side to another. It seemed to confirm her suspicions that both Cyra and the dragons were somewhat mystified by the Suto Teg faith.
The three spoke for a bit longer, and then it was Cinnet’s turn to be greeted. To Kata’s surprise, Cinnet began with a few words of Rannak. She hadn’t been aware that Cinnet spoke it, but it did seem like him to make he effort to greet a dragon in the most formal and proper way.
Cinnet was asking about how long Brenn would be staying for and if any special accommodations beyond the usual ones made for visiting dragons were required, when the western tower door opened. Rayna, dressed in full armor, rushed out onto the field towards the assembled group of welcomers. Cinnet looked displeased at being interrupted by an unscheduled late arrival to the event. Cyra paid no attention to his irritated looks. Kata noticed the expression that came over the queen’s face: the soft smile that shook just the tiniest bit and the eyes that were ever so slightly too bright. It was a look that Kata had seen many times before when parents saw their children ready to ride off on their first assignments as knights. She remembered getting that same look from her own father when she had climbed up on Tally’s back and prepared to leave for the castle and her first Sending.
Cyra went to meet her daughter, with Brenn following close by. With his considerably longer stride, the dragon was the first to greet Rayna. He nudged her very gently and she stroked his nose in return. Cyra stood next to Brenn and the three were soon engaged in lively conversation.
After a few moments, Argonios motioned to Kata, Cinnet, and the priest.
“I think it would be best if we left them alone for awhile,” he suggested softly
Kata nodded in agreement. The Suto Teg priest looked nervous, likely concerned that he would be neglecting his duty to transcribe the dragon’s words. But eventually, after checking over his notes one more time, he rolled up his writings and started towards the tower door. Even Cinnet didn’t protest the idea too much.
As they were leaving the field, Kata turned back and took one last look at the queen, the princess, and the dragon. They made a strange group: the massive blue beast padding slowly along to allow the humans to keep pace, the young knight tall and dark haired and brimming with excitement, and the queen, walking between the two, looking smaller than usual by comparison, and constantly talking to one or the other or both. But there was something there that Kata couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was something in the way they walked, or their posture, or just how happy all three of them seemed to be together. It wasn’t really anything tangible enough to describe, but still Kata ran up to Argonios and tapped his arm.
“Look,” she said, pointing at the three when Argonios had turned. “They look like each other, don’t they?”
Argonios stared at the little group. He said nothing at first and Kata wondered if she should have said anything, if her observation was just some trick of her own mind. But the beastman’s face soon brightened in understanding.
“Yes,” he answered at last. “They do.”
What you've got here is me plowing through the second half of the last scene I posted on the blog. I'm trying to work on just getting the thing written, as I know it's going to need editing whether I plow through without regard to quality or spend 27 minutes crafting each sentence into perfection. If you do want a bit of a spoiler, this is the last time Cyra and Rayna will be together before Apex 1 happens.
Comments greatly desired. Seriously. If nobody's reading this, I can just skip posting it and play more Zelda.
Brenn said something to Argonios and Cyra began to translate. Kata wasn’t fully paying attention. She had seen dragons at past Sendings before and even attended a hatching once. But this was really the closest she had been to a dragon. As far as Kata could tell, Brenn was a full-grown dragon. Even when his head and neck were lowered, he was substantially taller than even Sir Argonios. The dragon wasn’t merely blue, he was a variety of blues. Every individual scale seemed to contain multiple hues that shifted and changed as he breathed and the sunlight caught them differently. Like most dragons, his body was mainly a dark shade, while his underbelly was lighter to make him less visible from beneath as he flew. He had four horns, two larger ones near where his head and neck met, and two smaller ones above his brow ridges. Cyra had told Kata that the smaller horns were particular to male dragons, a fact that had come up when Kata was trying to determine the gender of newborn dragons at the last hatching. Brenn slowly drew his head up and away from Argonios, regaining his full towering height. He seemed to always move slowly, though Kata wondered if that was just a side affect of being among what he perceived as small and delicate company.
Brenn and Cyra moved to stand in front of Kata. The dragon lowered his head again and Kata found that having his extremely large face so close to hers was a little unnerving. As Cyra finished growling out an introduction, Brenn puffed out his heated air greeting. The two regarded each other for a moment. Then Brenn turned to Cyra with a few deep vocalizations.
“He wants to know how you got your scar,” Cyra explained.
Cyra pointed and Kata glanced down at her arm. She vaguely recalled from Cinnet’s material on proper etiquette when meeting a dragon that dragons regarded scars as signs of a great warrior. Kata figured it was because their tough, scaly hides prevented them from getting many.
“I got it fighting a rogue Tals clan dragon while I was returning from the Battle of Faell.”
Kata spoke to Brenn as she answered. Cyra already knew the story, or at least, the part that she told people about. Brenn rumbled deep in his throat, apparently finding this explanation acceptable.
“Where did you get that one?” Kata asked, indicating a long mark across Brenn’s lower neck and chest. Cyra translated for the dragon and he gave his response.
“He got it during the Independence War. He was protecting a civilian from a Keltarian soldier.”
Kata didn’t know much about dragon expressions, but she almost felt like Brenn was smiling at her. Cyra certainly looked happy to see her brother sharing war stories with Kata.
The pair moved on to the Suto Teg priest. He repeated his bent elbowed bow again and pulled out a scroll. He then launched into a lengthy recitation in Rannak, which Kata guessed to be the official Suto Teg greeting to a dragon. Again, Kata couldn’t be certain of Brenn’s emotions, but she though he looked a little uncomfortable, repeatedly shifting his weight from one side to another. It seemed to confirm her suspicions that both Cyra and the dragons were somewhat mystified by the Suto Teg faith.
The three spoke for a bit longer, and then it was Cinnet’s turn to be greeted. To Kata’s surprise, Cinnet began with a few words of Rannak. She hadn’t been aware that Cinnet spoke it, but it did seem like him to make he effort to greet a dragon in the most formal and proper way.
Cinnet was asking about how long Brenn would be staying for and if any special accommodations beyond the usual ones made for visiting dragons were required, when the western tower door opened. Rayna, dressed in full armor, rushed out onto the field towards the assembled group of welcomers. Cinnet looked displeased at being interrupted by an unscheduled late arrival to the event. Cyra paid no attention to his irritated looks. Kata noticed the expression that came over the queen’s face: the soft smile that shook just the tiniest bit and the eyes that were ever so slightly too bright. It was a look that Kata had seen many times before when parents saw their children ready to ride off on their first assignments as knights. She remembered getting that same look from her own father when she had climbed up on Tally’s back and prepared to leave for the castle and her first Sending.
Cyra went to meet her daughter, with Brenn following close by. With his considerably longer stride, the dragon was the first to greet Rayna. He nudged her very gently and she stroked his nose in return. Cyra stood next to Brenn and the three were soon engaged in lively conversation.
After a few moments, Argonios motioned to Kata, Cinnet, and the priest.
“I think it would be best if we left them alone for awhile,” he suggested softly
Kata nodded in agreement. The Suto Teg priest looked nervous, likely concerned that he would be neglecting his duty to transcribe the dragon’s words. But eventually, after checking over his notes one more time, he rolled up his writings and started towards the tower door. Even Cinnet didn’t protest the idea too much.
As they were leaving the field, Kata turned back and took one last look at the queen, the princess, and the dragon. They made a strange group: the massive blue beast padding slowly along to allow the humans to keep pace, the young knight tall and dark haired and brimming with excitement, and the queen, walking between the two, looking smaller than usual by comparison, and constantly talking to one or the other or both. But there was something there that Kata couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was something in the way they walked, or their posture, or just how happy all three of them seemed to be together. It wasn’t really anything tangible enough to describe, but still Kata ran up to Argonios and tapped his arm.
“Look,” she said, pointing at the three when Argonios had turned. “They look like each other, don’t they?”
Argonios stared at the little group. He said nothing at first and Kata wondered if she should have said anything, if her observation was just some trick of her own mind. But the beastman’s face soon brightened in understanding.
“Yes,” he answered at last. “They do.”
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
I Guess I Spoke Too Soon
So of course, just as I say that "Last Battle" ain't happening, it works its way back into my head. I guess I shouldn't be surprised; this is a nearly ten year old story which means it has to be pretty tenacious. So as part of my goal to do more writing in the new year, I'm getting back to it a little. I stayed up last night and wrote up an outline of the whole thing. I'm not planning to show it to anyone; it's not partcularly interesting, it ruins the surprises of the story in a very dull form, and it may well not make sense to anyone but me. I think I may have accidently left out a scene or two, but it's current 53 items long. Six of these have been written in some form or other. In mathematical terms, that means I'm somewhere between and eigth and a ninth done with the story. Of course, this is probably a pretty meaningless figure, since some of those numbered story points cover a lot of ground and are probably nowhere near the same legnth as others. I have to look up the length requirements again, but i think this is going to be a novella, assuming it ever gets finished.
Anyways, what I'm going to do right now is write down some of my issues with the story. Some of them are probably the reasons that I dropped it in the first place. Other are stuff that I'm worried about for future installments.
Comments still welcome. Very minor spoilers ahaead.
New Title
This has been an issue pretty much since day one. Not only is "The Last Battle" already the title of the seventh Narnia book, it also make absolutely no sense until pretty near the end. This is not a huge worry of mine. "Last Battle" is a perfectly good fill-in title and the story can go on fine with it until I can come up with something better. But so far, nothing I've thought of feels like an improvement.
First Part Rewrite
There's a lot of stuff that needs rewriting, but I think this needs a complete overhaul. I really like the idea of Cyra and Cinnet talking about Kataya and her request before we actually meet her, partly because it establishes early on that we'll be using multiple POVs in the story. But I got worried when Jen asked me further into the story when we would be getting back to Cyra. And that fact is, we're really not. She's an important character and she's going to be mentioned a lot even when she's not there. But after the Sending of the Knights, we really don't see her again until quite a bit later. By introducing her first, I may have accidently given the impression that she's the main character, when in fact she's more like an extremely important secondary character. I'd like to hear people's thoughts on this one, just to see if a change really is in order.
Apex 1 Rewrite
Again, rewrites are needed all over the place and this is probably the least surprising, since it's the first thing I wrote. Aside from the usual stuff that needs correction (repetitive phrasing, awkwards places, stuff that needs punching up, etc.), there's all the problems that come out of writing the middle of the story first. The description of Cyra has got to go for two reasons. One is that she's going to be described earlier in the story, so the audience doesn't need such a full physical description of her. The other is that the reason Santok was noticing her appearence originally is because he hadn't really seen Cyra up close outside of battle before. As I've been working on the story, I've realized that Santok would have seen Cyra in a non-battle setting when he went to Sathyriel with a Keltarian delegation and met Kataya for the second time. On top of that, the description doesn't really reflect how Cyra should look at the moment. It needs to show that she's very strong mentally and used to being in highly stressful situations, but she's also pretty dishevelled from riding for a couple of nights straight with no sleep and having the worst several days of her life from knwing that her daughter is being held captive by a guy who seriously dispises her. Should be an interesting challenge.
Time
Ah, time. My old enemy. Not time as in the huge amount of time it will take to write this whole thing, or the time I waste playing Legend of Zelda, or the time I spend at work and the gym that leaves me too tired to wite when I get home. I'm talking about time in the story and getting everyone where they need to be when they need to be there and have it be believable. There's a lot of coming and going between Keltaria and Sathyriel, especially between Santok's fortress and the capitol of Sathyriel. (I have to check my notes to see if I named it yet.) And there are points where certain characters have to get to one place before another character gets to a different one, but the timing doesn't always seem to make sense. I need to figure out how long it takes to get to Santok's fortress from Sathyriel's capitol. Other than that, I'm hoping I can use individual speed of travel to make things work out. Kataya's pretty excited when she's going to see Santok, so she's going pretty fast, but she's also stopping to eat and sleep and to let Tally rest. Cyra, when she rides to Santok's fortress, is not sleeping, probably eating what little she does on the road, and getting fresh horses when she needs them. So I can probably figure her trip takes less time than Kataya's.
Kata or Kataya
Most people call the protagonist of the story "Kata" including the narration. Cinnet, ever the stickler for doing things properly, calls her by her full name, "Kataya". You don't know this yet, but so does Santok. This bothers me. I like having Santok call Kata by her full name because it goes to showing the respect he treats her with. Their relationship is almost courtly in nature. So I kind of want him to be the only one who calls her Kataya to keep it special. But on the other hand, I like Cinnet's character and it just doesn't make any sense for him to call her by anything but her full name and title. (By the way, in earlier versions of the story, Kata was "Kate" and the Santok character called her "Katherine". That version didn't have a Cinnet. Lucky it.)
Names
I'm frequently concerned that I have too many names that start with the same letters and are too easily confused. Cyra and Cinnet, Brogan and Brenn, Santok and Sathyriel, Kataya and Keltaria. Most of them are probably not an issue; I don't think Brenn and Brogan ever have a scene together and it's pretty easy to tell people from kingdoms just by context. But Cyra and Cinnet currently both appear in the first scene and they're together a lot. And I'm pretty attateched to both of their names.
Language
I like the idea of the Keltarians and Sathyrians speaking different languages. I especially like how it works during Apex 1. But the more I think about upcoming scenes, the more I worry about the problems it would cause. If their are two languages, I figure Cyra, Kata, and Santok are all bilingual. That doesn't leave too many major characters for the language barrier to be a problem for, calling the usefulness of having two seprate languages into question. Rayna does not speak Keltaric (please ignore the stupid name I gave it in Apex 1), but since a lot of upcoming scenes are from her perspective and feature a lot of Keltarians, most of whom don't speak Sathyric, it would really cut down on my ability to show what's going on with these characters. Much as I enjoy the idea, I think I may have to drop it. However, the dragons still speak a different language, a fact which figure heavily into a scene very late in the story.
Rayna's Story Arc
The main issue hear is that I don't know what it is. I know what happens to Rayna and what she does, but I'm not sure what the ultimate purpose of it all is. If this story is going to work, Rayna needs to be a good character in her own right and for that, I feel she needs to have some way in which she changes over the course of the story. This is proving difficult. The last time we're actually with Rayna (seeing events from her point of view), is either when she overhears two of the guards saying that Cyra is riding towards the fortress or right before she gets dragged into Santok's throne room in Apex 1. Neither of these are good moments for Rayna, since she's well aware that this is a trap and believes her mother is going to be killed because of her and she can't do anything about it. That would suggest that the arc is getting her from that point to where she saves her mother's life at the cost of her own. But it's too fast, it's not a premeditated act on her part, and we don't get to see things from her POV. (I suppose I could insert a Rayna scene right before Santok tries to kill Cyra, but I don't like breaking up that scene and I feel it's very important that the readers know that Santok chooses to kill Rayna rather than being unable to stop the blow meant for Cyra.) Besides, I don't think Rayna intends to get herself killed when she saves her mother, so she ends up as much a victim as a hero. The other possible arc is Rayna coming to the realization that the circumstances of her birth are not important because her mother loves her regardless. (I did figure out what Rayna's real origin is and no, I'm not going to tell you. I also figure out what Cyra tells her about where she came from. Maybe they're the same thing, maybe they aren't. Maybe it doesn't even get addressed in the story.) It'd be tough to fit that in with what has to happen at the end of Rayna's scenes, but it might be doable.
Okay, are you entirely sick of "Last Batlle" now? I hope not, because I intend to write more. I'm even thinking about posting a scene that I wrote but never put up here. But for the time being, you get to ponder my story issues. I'm also thinking about posting the second part of "New Story" to see if that gets any response.
Please forgive my typos, as Blogger's spell check is not working right now.
Anyways, what I'm going to do right now is write down some of my issues with the story. Some of them are probably the reasons that I dropped it in the first place. Other are stuff that I'm worried about for future installments.
Comments still welcome. Very minor spoilers ahaead.
New Title
This has been an issue pretty much since day one. Not only is "The Last Battle" already the title of the seventh Narnia book, it also make absolutely no sense until pretty near the end. This is not a huge worry of mine. "Last Battle" is a perfectly good fill-in title and the story can go on fine with it until I can come up with something better. But so far, nothing I've thought of feels like an improvement.
First Part Rewrite
There's a lot of stuff that needs rewriting, but I think this needs a complete overhaul. I really like the idea of Cyra and Cinnet talking about Kataya and her request before we actually meet her, partly because it establishes early on that we'll be using multiple POVs in the story. But I got worried when Jen asked me further into the story when we would be getting back to Cyra. And that fact is, we're really not. She's an important character and she's going to be mentioned a lot even when she's not there. But after the Sending of the Knights, we really don't see her again until quite a bit later. By introducing her first, I may have accidently given the impression that she's the main character, when in fact she's more like an extremely important secondary character. I'd like to hear people's thoughts on this one, just to see if a change really is in order.
Apex 1 Rewrite
Again, rewrites are needed all over the place and this is probably the least surprising, since it's the first thing I wrote. Aside from the usual stuff that needs correction (repetitive phrasing, awkwards places, stuff that needs punching up, etc.), there's all the problems that come out of writing the middle of the story first. The description of Cyra has got to go for two reasons. One is that she's going to be described earlier in the story, so the audience doesn't need such a full physical description of her. The other is that the reason Santok was noticing her appearence originally is because he hadn't really seen Cyra up close outside of battle before. As I've been working on the story, I've realized that Santok would have seen Cyra in a non-battle setting when he went to Sathyriel with a Keltarian delegation and met Kataya for the second time. On top of that, the description doesn't really reflect how Cyra should look at the moment. It needs to show that she's very strong mentally and used to being in highly stressful situations, but she's also pretty dishevelled from riding for a couple of nights straight with no sleep and having the worst several days of her life from knwing that her daughter is being held captive by a guy who seriously dispises her. Should be an interesting challenge.
Time
Ah, time. My old enemy. Not time as in the huge amount of time it will take to write this whole thing, or the time I waste playing Legend of Zelda, or the time I spend at work and the gym that leaves me too tired to wite when I get home. I'm talking about time in the story and getting everyone where they need to be when they need to be there and have it be believable. There's a lot of coming and going between Keltaria and Sathyriel, especially between Santok's fortress and the capitol of Sathyriel. (I have to check my notes to see if I named it yet.) And there are points where certain characters have to get to one place before another character gets to a different one, but the timing doesn't always seem to make sense. I need to figure out how long it takes to get to Santok's fortress from Sathyriel's capitol. Other than that, I'm hoping I can use individual speed of travel to make things work out. Kataya's pretty excited when she's going to see Santok, so she's going pretty fast, but she's also stopping to eat and sleep and to let Tally rest. Cyra, when she rides to Santok's fortress, is not sleeping, probably eating what little she does on the road, and getting fresh horses when she needs them. So I can probably figure her trip takes less time than Kataya's.
Kata or Kataya
Most people call the protagonist of the story "Kata" including the narration. Cinnet, ever the stickler for doing things properly, calls her by her full name, "Kataya". You don't know this yet, but so does Santok. This bothers me. I like having Santok call Kata by her full name because it goes to showing the respect he treats her with. Their relationship is almost courtly in nature. So I kind of want him to be the only one who calls her Kataya to keep it special. But on the other hand, I like Cinnet's character and it just doesn't make any sense for him to call her by anything but her full name and title. (By the way, in earlier versions of the story, Kata was "Kate" and the Santok character called her "Katherine". That version didn't have a Cinnet. Lucky it.)
Names
I'm frequently concerned that I have too many names that start with the same letters and are too easily confused. Cyra and Cinnet, Brogan and Brenn, Santok and Sathyriel, Kataya and Keltaria. Most of them are probably not an issue; I don't think Brenn and Brogan ever have a scene together and it's pretty easy to tell people from kingdoms just by context. But Cyra and Cinnet currently both appear in the first scene and they're together a lot. And I'm pretty attateched to both of their names.
Language
I like the idea of the Keltarians and Sathyrians speaking different languages. I especially like how it works during Apex 1. But the more I think about upcoming scenes, the more I worry about the problems it would cause. If their are two languages, I figure Cyra, Kata, and Santok are all bilingual. That doesn't leave too many major characters for the language barrier to be a problem for, calling the usefulness of having two seprate languages into question. Rayna does not speak Keltaric (please ignore the stupid name I gave it in Apex 1), but since a lot of upcoming scenes are from her perspective and feature a lot of Keltarians, most of whom don't speak Sathyric, it would really cut down on my ability to show what's going on with these characters. Much as I enjoy the idea, I think I may have to drop it. However, the dragons still speak a different language, a fact which figure heavily into a scene very late in the story.
Rayna's Story Arc
The main issue hear is that I don't know what it is. I know what happens to Rayna and what she does, but I'm not sure what the ultimate purpose of it all is. If this story is going to work, Rayna needs to be a good character in her own right and for that, I feel she needs to have some way in which she changes over the course of the story. This is proving difficult. The last time we're actually with Rayna (seeing events from her point of view), is either when she overhears two of the guards saying that Cyra is riding towards the fortress or right before she gets dragged into Santok's throne room in Apex 1. Neither of these are good moments for Rayna, since she's well aware that this is a trap and believes her mother is going to be killed because of her and she can't do anything about it. That would suggest that the arc is getting her from that point to where she saves her mother's life at the cost of her own. But it's too fast, it's not a premeditated act on her part, and we don't get to see things from her POV. (I suppose I could insert a Rayna scene right before Santok tries to kill Cyra, but I don't like breaking up that scene and I feel it's very important that the readers know that Santok chooses to kill Rayna rather than being unable to stop the blow meant for Cyra.) Besides, I don't think Rayna intends to get herself killed when she saves her mother, so she ends up as much a victim as a hero. The other possible arc is Rayna coming to the realization that the circumstances of her birth are not important because her mother loves her regardless. (I did figure out what Rayna's real origin is and no, I'm not going to tell you. I also figure out what Cyra tells her about where she came from. Maybe they're the same thing, maybe they aren't. Maybe it doesn't even get addressed in the story.) It'd be tough to fit that in with what has to happen at the end of Rayna's scenes, but it might be doable.
Okay, are you entirely sick of "Last Batlle" now? I hope not, because I intend to write more. I'm even thinking about posting a scene that I wrote but never put up here. But for the time being, you get to ponder my story issues. I'm also thinking about posting the second part of "New Story" to see if that gets any response.
Please forgive my typos, as Blogger's spell check is not working right now.
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