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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 18, 2005 2:44:03 GMT -5
Chances are I won't change it - I'll just twist it a bit so that it makes sense with the prequel AND the sequel.
I have no idea how many stories I'm going to have in this series...
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Sept 18, 2005 16:03:43 GMT -5
Well, just as long as this one doesn't go the way of the Dodo, any number would be great. ^_^
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 19, 2005 2:21:19 GMT -5
Heeheehee. I hope not. But you don't even know what's going on yet!
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 19, 2005 2:24:33 GMT -5
Ada stared at him. “You want me to take it?” she said incredulously.
“A letter would take too long and would probably be intercepted. Messengers are unreliable. I can’t go myself – just after staying to talk to you, it will probably take me several hours to pick up Ronim’s trail. I need to send someone I can trust who won’t be suspected. You – a simple, young Nomafya girl, having left your tribe and going to seek employment on the coast – are perfect. And you don’t have to take a letter which could be misplaced, or stolen – you have all the information you need in your own head.”
“But that’s crazy!” blurted Ada before she could stop herself, “I can’t go anywhere! I just wanted to know what had happened, I didn’t want adventures and top secret missions!”
“I warned you that your life would change,” said Icaer softly.
“You didn’t mention this,” said Ada firmly, “You didn’t mention leaving my family and trekking off across the country to deliver some message.”
Icaer gazed at her for a moment. Ada felt very uncomfortable under his steady gaze, but tried not to show it. “Fine,” said Icaer suddenly, as if it was of no great importance, “But I think I should warn you. Ronim will soon know that you have your memories back-”
“How?” said Ada in shock.
“He’ll know. Believe me. And when he realizes, he won’t just leave you alone. He’ll come back for you, and he will kill you this time. And not just you, but your family. And your friends. He would slaughter your entire tribe without batting an eyelid.” Icaer’s eyes had gone icy cold, and Ada shivered, despite the warm night air. “By taking this message, you not only help us – you help your people as well,” he continued, and reached out and took her hand. “Please, Ada,” he whispered.
Ada knew deep down that she didn’t have a choice, but she wasn’t ready to accept it yet. “We could leave,” she suggested half-heartedly, “Go all the way across the island-”
“He’d find you,” said Icaer. Ada looked down, letting her hair fall slightly over her face to provide a little cover from the surrounding darkness. “Ada, I know you’re scared,” she heard him say, “But if it helps, I believe you can do it.”
“I don’t want to do it,” cried Ada, looking up at him, slightly angry, “I don’t know anything about this war. I just want to stay here with my family. I want everything to stay the same.”
“Nothing will stay the same,” said Icaer. Ada sighed heavily, and looked at the candle flame. It flickered slightly, but continued to glow brightly in the darkness, banishing the shadows to bask her and Icaer in a golden glow.
She didn’t know how long they sat there, or even what she was thinking about. She supposed she had been thinking about what she was going to do, but she couldn’t remember doing it. But after what felt like hours, she said in a quiet voice, “All right. I’ll do it.”
Icaer didn’t reply, but rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Where do I have to go?”
“Tankyr, on the coast,” said Icaer, “I know people there, people against the Alliance.”
“Where can I find them?”
“They’ll find you.” Ada looked at him in slight confusion as he drew out a small necklace from his tunic. It was a strange symbol on a fine silver chain – a circle with eight spokes going into the centre, with two small curved arms coming off it, and three branches from the top meeting at the chain. As she watched, he looked at it, and, to her surprise, broke it in half. “Take this,” he said, handing her half the circle, still with four spokes jutting out of it, “Don’t lose it. When you get to Tankyr, wear it around your neck and go to The Fourth Island inn. Someone will find you. Tell them that you got it from me. They’ll understand.”
“What about – what are you going to do?”
“Keep following Ronim,” said Icaer, with a smile, “You’ve made my job a tad harder, but then it wasn’t really a challenge before.”
“Alone?”
“No. There are others. But we stay separate – it would be easier for us to be seen if we were all together. We have ways of contacting each other,” he said, seeing the look of surprise on her face, “If one of us gets into trouble, the others would go and help. You don’t need to worry about me,” he added with a grin, “Worry about yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Ada without thinking. Icaer looked at, an eyebrow raised. “Won’t I?” she asked, stomach sinking slightly.
Icaer shrugged. “No idea. You ought to be, if you don’t draw attention to yourself. Can you think of a way to leave the camp without being noticed?”
Ada thought about it. “I suppose… they’re already worried about my head, so I could get one of my friends to take me to the nearest town…”
“Good idea,” said Icaer nodding. He got to his feet, and extended a hand to help her up. When she was standing, he took her shoulders and looked at her straight in the eyes. Slightly unnerved, she tried not to look away.
“Ada,” he said, “Listen to me. What you’re doing for us… it is one of the most important things you will ever do, and we will be so grateful towards you. Don’t tell anyone on your journey what you know – don’t trust anyone – try not to talk to anyone unless they have the same necklace as I do.”
“Anyone?”
“Well, you can talk to some people,” said Icaer slightly impatiently, “Just try not to attract attention to yourself. And even if you get the idea you’re being followed, don’t stop. There is no-one who can help you properly between here and Tankyr. And if, elements forbid, they realize what you’re doing and capture you – well, it’s a bit of a tall order if you’re tortured, but don’t tell them anything. Please.”
“Maybe…” said Ada slowly, “Maybe you could make me forget what they said. So that even if I am captured, I can’t tell anyone.”
Icaer looked at her in surprise. “I wasn’t going to suggest it, but… if you’re willing…”
“Just make me forget the important bits,” said Ada, trying not to think about the fact she was having her memory tampered with for the third time that evening, and this time willingly.
Icaer nodded, and rested a hand on her forehead again. Bracing herself, Ada looked into his eyes. The small silver wisp flew from his eyes to hers, and she felt the familiar feeling of ice spreading through her mind, but it wasn’t as harsh and shocking as it had been when Ronim did it. All the same, she shivered slightly as she felt parts of her memory being smoothed over.
Ada didn’t know how much time had passed when Icaer took his hand away, but she felt like it had taken longer than the previous times. “It’s more difficult when hazing specific things,” explained Icaer, “I’ve made you forget what they said. Don’t try to remember,” he said quickly, “Mind-misting isn’t permanent, and it can be easily fought against when you have some kind of trigger. It can be stronger when more time is spent on it, but I’m not that good at it, and as long as you don’t try too hard to remember…”
“How do you do it?” asked Ada eagerly, trying not to think about what Mantio, Bastus and Ronim had said.
Icaer shook his head. “I can’t tell you. Sorry.”
“Is it-” Ada couldn’t really believe she was asking this. “Is it magic?”
A smile escaped Icaer. “You believe in magic?”
“I don’t know what else it could be,” admitted Ada.
“Well… it’s a kind of magic.”
Ada stared at him in amazement. “Are you a magician?”
“Um…” Icaer, for the first time, didn’t seem to know what to say. “Of a sort,” he admitted, “Look, you didn’t want to know anything important. If I tell you, I’ll just have to make you forget again.”
Ada nodded. She didn’t know how many more surprises she could take this evening. She knew there were legends of magicians living in the Three Islands years ago, but like lupunoxes, she had assumed they were just that – legends. She was going to have to rethink a lot of her assumptions, she decided.
“Do you have any weapons, by the way?” asked Icaer suddenly, as though it had just occurred to him.
“Er… I can do archery, a bit… we have to learn for hunting…”
“A sword?” asked Icaer hopefully.
Ada shook her head. “Only for play fighting.”
“Oh well,” sighed Icaer, “Take one anyway, and should the situation arise, try to pretend you know what you’re doing… might make them hesitate, which means you could run-”
“Icaer,” said Ada. She suddenly felt overwhelmed. Just a couple of hours ago, she’d been playing Mari in an adventure play – suddenly she was in an adventure of her own. And she wasn’t sure she liked it very much “I…” She was even more terrified that she had been when Ronim had found her under the bush – but this was a deeper fear, one that filled her very veins, making her head swim and her knees feel unsteady. “I’m scared,” she admitted.
Icaer looked at her, a look of quiet pity on his face. He suddenly gave her a hug. Slightly surprised, but glad as well, Ada hugged him back. They silently embraced each other in farewell, and then Icaer stepped back once more. “Don’t worry,” he said, “You’ll probably be fine. If not… well… not much we can do about it. Don’t go yet,” he added, “I’ll just check whether it’s safe.”
Before Ada could say anything, he turned towards the camp. Ada thought she saw the same small silvery wisp that went into her eyes flit away through the trees towards the fires, and looked up at Icaer’s face. It was expressionless apart from a look of concentration. A few moments later, Ada thought she saw the same wisp again out of the corner of her eye, and then Icaer released a breath and turned back to her.
“It’s all right,” he said, “Mantio and Bastus have already gone to bed, and Ronim isn’t anywhere nearby. He won’t know you’ve got your memories back for some time yet.”
“How will he know?”
“He’ll probably check – but not for a few days, at least. He’s probably already forgotten about this. Not much bothers him. Well, you’d better be getting back. Try to leave tonight, if you can – but if it would be less conspicuous for you to leave tomorrow, wait till then.” Ada nodded, trying not to think about how Ronim would check. “And be careful.”
“You too,” said Ada, though she thought he’d be a lot safer than him. “Well… bye.”
“Goodbye, Ada.”
She turned and walked through the trees in the direction she hoped the camp lay. After a few steps, she looked back. Icaer was gone. In the distance, a rainphax was singing.
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Sept 19, 2005 18:03:20 GMT -5
Aw, poor Ada.
HERO JOURNEY TIME!
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 20, 2005 4:35:45 GMT -5
Hurray!!
I really need to start writing the prequel... problem is, there are eight main characters. How do you structure something like that???
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Sept 23, 2005 19:48:08 GMT -5
...
Very very VERY.....
Carefully.
*blink*
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 24, 2005 11:37:32 GMT -5
I also realized something else. Right now, I'm planning on structuring this around nine books - so some people can see it as three trilogies, and it makes sense in another way I will explain later -
And the first eight of them are going to be totally depressing. The battle only stops in book 9.
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Sept 25, 2005 11:57:00 GMT -5
... well, then....
At least your readers will have a big incentive to keep with the series...
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 26, 2005 11:21:43 GMT -5
Mmmm. Quite a big incentive.
I really want to write these stories as manga, but I can't draw it...
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Sept 26, 2005 21:49:14 GMT -5
Maybe you can hit up your sister or someone to illustrate it for you...
I've tried to do that before, but my attention span's too short and I give up on them.
Bad me.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 27, 2005 8:56:45 GMT -5
Well, I like envisioning it in manga. And also envisioning how it would be as a film. I've already written an advert for the film of Hawthorne Dene... which was fun, because it let me know there was another character to introduce. I wasn't aware of that till I wrote the advert. I was writing it, and suddenly I realized there was another character, and I thought "Hmm... better fit them in somewhere..."
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 27, 2005 9:02:11 GMT -5
She made her way quickly back to the camp, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ankle and the lingering fuzziness in her head, trying to make some sort of plan in her head. She needed to get away from the camp – as soon as possible. Who could she trust to take her to the nearest town? She immediately thought of Becki, but was hesitant – if her sister found out what she was doing, she would want to come as well. She entertained the happy notion for a few seconds, before reluctantly deciding that she didn’t want to drag her sister into this. Maybe Mr Mola could take her – no, he wouldn’t let her go. Nor would Mrs Mola.
There was one person she knew she could trust – trust not to tell anyone, trust to play along, trust to let her go. She just had to get him on his own.
She emerged from the woods again, and wandered back over to the fire. She would have to pretend nothing had happened, she realized, and relaxed her face back into the dreamy half-asleep expression she remembered having before.
“Ada?” called a woman from the fireside, who she recognized as Mrs Mola, “Is that you?”
“Yes,” she called back vaguely.
“Where have you been?” Mrs Mola had got to her feet and was hurrying towards her, looking concerned.
“I just went back to get the firewood.”
“You shouldn’t be walking about, you silly girl! Your ankle’s injured!”
“Oh,” said Ada, allowing herself to be steered back to the fire, “Oh yes, so it is.”
It wasn’t really that hard to pretend. She just slipped into her usual state of awareness first thing in the morning after a big performance – not really noticing anything, just going from task to task while her mind entertained itself with other things. Mrs Mola’s and Becki’s concern seemed to increase as the night grew old, which was good – the more worried they were, the more they would be prepared to send her to the Healers.
She just had to make sure they sent her with the right person.
“Hey, Ada,” said Phyl, sitting down next to her, looking worried, “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know,” she said distantly, “Better, I suppose.”
“That’s good.” Phyl followed Ada’s example and stared into the dancing flames of the fire. He didn’t seem to know what to say.
“Phyl,” she said quietly, barely moving her mouth and not removing her eyes from the fire. “No, don’t look at me. Keep looking at the fire. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me at all. In a moment, I’m going to go to my caravan. I need you to follow me in a few minutes.”
“What?” said Phyl in surprise, but Ada got to her feet and went back to her caravan without replying, saying goodnight to Mrs Mola on her way quite loudly so that everyone could hear.
She reached the caravan, climbed the three steps up to the door, and let herself into the small cylindrical room. She quickly closed the door behind her, glanced out the window to check no-one had followed her, and went over to her bed. She pulled out a bag from underneath it and started throwing in clothes.
She was just looking for her travelling cloak when she heard a knock on the door. “Who is it?” she called.
“Who else would it be?” came Phyl’s slightly disbelieving voice. Ada quickly weaved her way through the things on the floor over to the door and pulled it open.
“Come in, quickly,” she said, stepping aside, “Did Mantio see you? Or Bastus?”
“Who?”
“King’s ministers.”
“No, I don’t think so – why? And…” He looked around the caravan and saw the trail of devastation left by Ada’s hurried packing, and the nearly full bag on her bed. “Ada, what’s going on?”
“Look,” said Ada, in a low, quick voice, “I have to leave. Right now. I can’t tell you why, but it’s really important. I don’t actually remember the exact details myself. But I need you to help me. I need you to pretend that you’re taking me to the Healers in the nearest town because of my head or arm or something.”
Phyl stared at her. “What? Why?”
“I can’t explain, Phyl, but please help me.” Ada turned away from him and carried on shoving clothes into her bag. “I’ll explain when I get back. I need you to go steal some food for me as well, it could be a long journey and I don’t have that much money.”
“Ada-”
“Phyl!” Ada turned round to face him again, and looked him straight in the eyes. “You’ve known me since – well, for all our lives. Have I ever asked you to do something unless it was really important? And don’t you trust me that if I could tell you, I would?”
Phyl shifted uneasily on his feet. “I guess…”
“Will you help me? Please?”
Phyl sighed. “Yes. If it’s that important, of course I will.”
“Thank you,” said Ada, and she really meant it. She wanted to hug him, but she turned back to her bag. “Go and get me some food, and then get two horses. Bring them back here. It would be best if no-one knew I’d left, but if anyone sees you, tell them you’re taking me to see Healers because I’ve got worse.”
Phyl didn’t reply. A few seconds later, she heard the door close behind her, and looked round. Phyl had gone.
Her bag ready, she considered changing from her performing clothes into something easier. She decided not to – if anyone saw them leaving, it would look suspicious if she was already dressed for a long journey. She would get changed when they stopped.
She went into the small room at the end which belonged to Mr and Mrs Mola, and went over to the cupboard, where, she knew, Mr Mola kept a sword. Slightly uncertainly, she picked it up in its scabbard and weighed it in her hands. It felt very heavy. She drew it half out, and looked at the light reflecting on the blade. She couldn’t see herself using it. But she had promised Icaer, so she wrapped it in a cloak and stuffed it into her bag so that the hilt poked out. She grabbed her own small dagger, an unexpected present from Becki on her sixteenth birthday, and fastened it around her waist – she felt much happier about carrying that than the sword, and it made her feel slightly braver. Finally, she took her bow and arrows from under her bed, and stuffed them into her bag as well.
She picked up her travelling cloak and quickly fastened it around her shoulders. After a moment’s thought, she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the small cupboard above her bed and wrote a note to Becki, explaining that she’d had to leave and that she would be back soon. She folded it up, and was tucking it under Becki’s pillow when Phyl knocked on the door again. She swung her bag over her shoulder, glanced back one last time around the caravan, and then went out the door.
Phyl was waiting outside, his own travelling cloak on, a small bag of food at his feet, holding onto the reins of two horses. She recognized one of them. “You took Cailler?” she said in surprise.
“I don’t think Saro will mind,” said Phyl, holding out the food to her, which she forced into her bag, “Considering he’s mooning over your sister. Does she know you’re leaving?”
“I left her a note,” said Ada, taking the other horse’s reins and not looking Phyl in the eye. Phyl didn’t say anything, but she could tell what he was thinking. She’s leaving, and she’s not even saying goodbye to her sister? “She’ll just stop me leaving,” she said, slightly defensively.
“Hey, it’s your choice,” shrugged Phyl, “I’m not the one with a top secret mission I can’t tell anyone about.”
Ada didn’t reply, but scrambled not very gracefully onto her horse’s back. Her horse wasn’t a shining strong black stallion like Cailler – it was a slightly squat palomino, with a straggly blond mane and large brown eyes. She noticed his waist was considerably rounder than Cailler’s muscular stomach.
“I thought you’d want an inconspicuous horse,” shrugged Phyl, seeing the look on her face as her horse ambled over to a large clump of grass and started munching it contentedly, “You don’t get much more inconspicuous than Harry here.”
“Harry?”
“Hurricane Harry,” corrected Phyl, grinning.
Harry certainly didn’t resemble a hurricane in any way, other than the path of destruction he left. As Ada discovered when she tried to steer him, Harry didn’t seem to see the point of going round bushes when he could just plough straight through them, Ada wincing as thorns scratched her legs. She was changing into trousers as soon as possible, she promised herself.
“I saw Mr Mola, by the way,” said Phyl as they headed for the road, “I told him you’d got worse, and that I was taking you to the Healers. He looked like he was going to argue, but then one of his kids started crying and I ran while he was distracted.”
“Thanks,” said Ada quietly. She looked back over her shoulder as they reached the road. The bonfire was blazing in the distance, sending a golden glow on the tents and caravans dotted around the field, and she could hear the happy chatter and singing floating up into the sky like the smoke from the flames. She almost thought she could see Becki’s red hair, shining in the firelight, and felt as though a stone had settled into her stomach. Behind her was her family, her friends, everything she had known – ahead was a dark road into the unknown.
She turned round and saw Phyl watching her. “Let’s go,” she said firmly, more to herself than to him, and pulled on Harry’s reins to stop him eating the bushes next to the road and make him walk.
***
Hurricane Harry is based on the horse which I learnt to ride on. He was so sweet - but had such an appetite...
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Post by reasonably_crazy on Sept 27, 2005 11:52:35 GMT -5
Lol... How cute. I heart Hurricane Harry....
Poor Becki- she's not going to be very happy about this, I imagine...
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Sept 27, 2005 16:06:52 GMT -5
Probably not.... but this is as far as I've got, so I have no idea...
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