Fantasy Writing - Blog Posts
WLC 2.5: To the Underdank!
The two blessed women approach the house of Dr. Ling. The nagi priestess, Kalyani, wearing a leather jerkin and cloth shirt, and the undine champion, Maraja, clad in her armor, both carry the vertical eye icon of Vanessa; Kalyani's on a pendant and Maraja's on her shield.
"Are you sure this is the place?" asks Maraja at the sight of the windowless brick building, "And where is this hole?"
"Look at the ssign," says Kalyani as she points to the plaque by the door, "Food Wizzard; thhiss musst be herss."
Before they can knock, the door swings inward, "G'day, mates," says the gecko clad in dark leather armor and a new (equally ratty) wig, "Ready for the Hole?" She pats the small bag tied to the base of her tail. "Ya do have supplies, right?"
"Yess, dear," says Kalyani, who points to a large bag sitting on the floating disc behind her, "Tent, food, water, sspell sstavess, everythhing we'll need."
"Where's your's, wavey?" asks Ling, eyeing the champion.
"I'm so grateful that you are both taking this seriously," says Maraja, "But don't we have enough?"
L: Can you believe that? Sheila's on the quest unprepared, but the nun's ready in a day.
"Ya ever been to the Underdank?" asks Ling, "There's barely any water, the temperature alternates between extremes, and everything edible is poisonous, ravenous, and/or explosive."
"That-"
"And further on are the gravity waves and seismic shifts, so the whole thing can rearrange while you're down there."
"I unde-"
"And the b*****ds living there: orc barbarians, Vrow huntresses, dweorg slavers, kobold pranksters-"
"I GET IT!" shouts Maraja, "Everything is deadly and terrible, but I can make water." She raises her sword and says, "And I can handle monsters." She swings and points it. "If you can guide me through the caves."
L: I knew it was going to be a hard quest, this one.
"Sister," says Ling to Kalyani, "Anything to say?"
The priestess shakes her head and the two head toward a blue dome about fifty meters away. The champion races after them.
Stationed there stands a smallgoblin in blue leather. His gaze is unfocused as he chews on the end of a wooden stick, its tip alight. The sound of footsteps drags his attention back to reality. "'Ello, Ling," he says, dry.
J: Is that how Mr. Snarbly was back then? L: People tend to be happier not standing near a death pit for eight hours a day. J: I'm glad he quit then. You taking his job at least made someone's life better.
"G'day, Bob," says Ling, expectantly waiting for the guard to open the gate.
He grasps the twig between a pair of fingers. "Reason for leaving?" His voice remains unemotive.
"Right," says Ling, "Different today. On a rescue." She jerks her head toward Kalyani. "There with me."
"Morning, Bobbobo," says Kalyani, as Maraja catches up, "May we pass?"
"Time to return, Sister?" He returns the twig to his mouth.
"Dunno," says Ling, "Maybe days."
Bobbobo claps the fingers of his right hand against its palm, then slaps the dome. The magic barrier become translucent revealing a large hole in the ground with a twenty meter diameter. "Be careful down there."
D: Oh, that's the hole outside! L: Yeah, same one. D: What happened to the dome? L: No one's around to maintain it. J: No one's around to fall into it.
"That's the way in?" asks Maraja, "How far does that go?"
"Four hundred metres straight down," recites Bobbobo, "The Township of Rankedge 'olds no responsibility for your safety. It is advised not to enter the Underdank."
"How are we to go down that?" asks the woman in platemail.
Ling wiggles her exposed fingers and toes. "Well, I'm climbing," she says, "But you could ride that disc."
J: Please, tell me she tried that. L: Nah, smart enough to avoid it. J: Shame.
"I do have a few sspellss to sspare," says Kalyani, adjusting her gloves, "The shhrine had thesse sspider glovess in sstorage."
The smallgoblin blinks slowly. "When you return-"
"Ring the bell. I know," says Ling, "We do this every week, Bob."
WLC 2.4: Ring of Fire
"I must say," says Vanessa, pulling eyes back into formation, "You are the third best I've-" Her flames reignite with a cough. "Mortal! The third best mortal I've-" Vanessa eyes focus on Ling, or rather, the burnt husk of her. The wizard's arms weakly gesturing spells, seemingly indifferent, or perhaps oblivious, to her missing leg. "You two," says Vanessa to Maraja and Kalyani, who still stand at the crossroads of shock and awe, "Aid her, for she now has my blessing to aid you. Priestess, you are to go as well. Assist them..." Vanessa's eyes dart about staring in different directions. "With... the quest they are on. ...I have to go." As the duo run over to Ling, Vanessa's avatar returns to the window.
As the pair begin healing Ling, she attempts to laugh only to cough up charred pieces of her tongue.
"You're a loon," says Maraja, channeling her energy into the roast gecko's chest, "Truly mad."
"Horrifying," says Kalyani, "Yet captivating." She holds the sides of Ling's head, forcing life through her.
"I'm number three," says Ling, weakly, "I am number three." Runes begin tearing open her burnt skin.
The champion runs her hand through her liquid hair and begins rubbing the nearest arm. "Why is that your focus?" She scraps and the skin peels away. "Do you have any idea how long a list that even is?"
"At least three," says Ling. Her voice returning, she yells a spell and a new leg erupts from the scorched stump. "Important rule for keeping patient's calm and out of pain: distraction. Think about anything else." Dr. Ling sits up with enough force to fling the rest of the dead skin off of her front.
"You're a doctor?" asks Kalyani, "I thhought you were jusst the town drunk."
Ling hops up and shakes the rest of her old self onto the floor. "Of biochemistry, but close enough," she says, naked as a hatchling, "Meet me at my place tomorrow morn." She begins running toward the door. "It's the brick house by the Hole."
L: Crazy that she vaporized my clothes. D: Why would she do that? L: Like I said, it was boring adult stuff. Don't mind it. D: But how does- J: Gods are weird, Dalini. They did things like that all the time.
"What's the hole?" asks Maraja.
"I believe shhe meant the entrancce to the Underdank," responds Kalyani, commanding a small wind with a gesture to blow the ashes out. "I can shhow you thhere. Do you need a placce to sstay for thhe night?"
WLC 2.3: Must Love Gods
The chamber for Vanessa is as white as the rest of the shrine, but with a splash of color upon the pulpit coming through the stained glass window depicting the goddess' most common appearance: six winged eyes encircling a larger one, all wreathed in golden flame and squished as if concealed by unseen eyelids. A stack of prayer mats are tucked in the corner by the door. The altar stands less than a meter in front of the pulpit; it's supports resemble a bed frame decorated with engravings of the goddess' eyes with inset jewels for their pupils.
As Maraja approaches the altar, Ling slips up to the pulpit and stares into the window. Maraja and Kalyani begin praying and the eyes of glass give a brief twinkle.
L: Weren't really listening to what they were saying. It didn't look like it was working anyway, so, after ten minutes or so, I joined in as respectfully as I could.
"Oi, ya heavenly b*****d!" yells Ling, "Your girls need your help. Get down here!"
Kalyani gasps in shock.
"Hold your tongue," says Maraja, "You can't act like that here."
L: Though, my wizardly ways were less than appreciated.
Ling pounds on palms onto the pulpit persistently. "Ya dumb b***c," she yells again, "We came to see you."
L: And maybe the drink had its say too.
The blessed women grab Ling and attempt to pull her from the room. She clings on, yelling at the window.
"Thhiss behaviour iss unaccceptable," says Kalyani, "You are more likely to incur divine wrathh thhan aid."
L: But it worked.
A bright light fills the room as the goddess Vanessa emerges from the glass, her eyes and wings shimmering and a weaving of colors spirals behind her.
L: I'll never forget what we first said to each other. I told her, "Your radiance is blinding."
"Hey, ya glowing c**t," shouts Ling, desperately covering her unblinking eyes with her hands, "The room's white as snow, ya drongo!"
The goddess looks down on the three pained mortals and says, "Oh, I am so sorry! Let's turn that down to a soft glimmer." Her radiance dims down and the women regain their sight.
L: I doubt any mortal's said anything like that to her.
"Now, what was I doing? Ah, yes." The eyes surround Ling and glare at her. "You dare to enter holy ground and behave thusly? I am more than aware of your life and deeds, Kun Ling. Moving across the world may hide you from mortals, but you cannot escape my gaze."
J: You expect to believe she knew you already? L: Why wouldn't she? Of course, the Love Goddess'd heard of me. J: And you're proud of that? D: What are you talking about?
"Are ya going to help her or not?" asks Ling, her voice as flat as someone investigated by a blind elephant.
"Did you not hear me?" asks the goddess, the eyes spin around Ling, "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I heard ya," says the wizard, "Ya can deal with me after ya help your champion rescue her girlfriend." She licks her eyes and resumes staring into the largest of Vanessa's.
Maraja resists correcting this statement, too afraid to speak in the presence of an angry god.
L: Angry's overselling it; irate, maybe?
"Why are you so concerned about them?" Vanessa's eyes narrow, "What do you stand to gain?"
L: It's an odd question, right? Took me a second to get it. Why wouldn't she just strike me down without being there?
"Ah, I see," says Ling, "This is a trial, right? Gods love trials. Ya already said ya knew me."
"Yes, I did," says Vanessa, "And I shall test your worthiness of my aid."
L: So we did a trial and I passed. D: What was the trial? L: Oh, uh, it was just some questions to prove... that I understood- understood... the concept of love. J: ... L: Shut up, Jevoi. That trial took several hours. Several long, glo- I mean, long, tedious hours.
WLC 2.2: Marble Labyrinth Zone
The town of Rankedge's only shrine serves most gods, but the town's main patron, the smallgoblin war (and fire) god Shooty-quickly, is one of the few to have a statue. His depiction as a spry warrior stands atop the marble pyramid facing toward the hole into the Underdank. His drawn arrow's flame endures in any weather and serves as a beacon from anywhere in town. The other gods are depicted on stained glass windows on every tier of the structure, all with their own altar rooms. The structure is seven stories tall with two sets of doors on each and the grand stairway up them is flanked by ramps.
Ling leads Maraja up and into the complex's third floor and around a corner and around another corner and then, just to be different around a third corner.
L: I hadn't really been to the shrine before, so...
"Do you even know where you're going?" asks the bitter paladin as they pass the door she suspects they originally entered.
"Do ya?" snipes back the wizard, her attention stuck on the window of another open room they pass.
"I don't live here!" whisper-shouts Maraja, glancing about for parishioners.
L: It took a bit.
After wandering blindly for half an hour, the two finally meet a priestess who is reaffirming the magic runes giving the marble corridors their soft lighting.
L: The nagi was stretching herself to the ceiling so far that her tunic weren't covering those golden scales on her tail end. Her elven-esque skin was the same seductive shade too and that long braid of hair... oh, it was shaped like a smaller snake.
D: Was she one of your sleep friends, too? L: That's no- J: Sleep friends? You really haven't changed. L: That's not what it sounds like. We can talk about that later. J: Dalini, do Nana Ling's sleep friends ever sound like they're in pain? L: TALK! 👏 'BOUT! 👏 LATER!
"Hey, would ya know where the love room is?" asks Ling.
"She means the altar of Vanessa," quickly corrects Maraja.
"You're on the wrong floor, dearss," says the priestess, "Let me shhow you to the sstairss."
J: Why are you talking like that? Racist. L: It's how she talked. It's not racist, it's a lisp. J: Then, why are mocking her lisp?
The priestess leads them down around a corner and slithers up a ramp next to the stairs in the stairwell in the center of the shrine. The duo follow her up as quietly as they can with Maraja's armor clanking every step.
"The goddesss Vanesssa'ss altar iss on the fifthh floor," says the priestess gently, "Nexx time, you shhould enter from thhere."
"I'll be sure to remember that," says Maraja, "Sister...?"
"Kalyani," answers the nagi, "Priesstesss of Vanesssa, in fact."
"Sounds like I should be converting," mutters Ling to herself from behind the faithful as Maraja introduces them.
WLC 2.1: Licker Bar
Sitting in a tavern, a gecko in a ratty wig sits alone at a booth in the rear. Dressed in a red shawl and leggings, she swirls her drink while watching the crowd hounding the flame-haired bartender. He pours, shakes, and passes drinks in an effortless dance.
L: It was a few months after I moved here to Rankedge. I's at Libby's having a pint.
J: Of course, you were. You were always at Libby's. So glad that place burned down.
L: How can ya say that? Weren't ya friends with Jr.?
J: Yes, and she hated working there. She didn't want to be saddled by her dead dad's dream.
Her wandering gaze is suddenly pulled by the sound of the door. A knight in shiny armor steps inside, looking about. The gecko slips out of her seat and sneaks across the tavern.
L: She looked like a scaly elf. A real beauty, too: skin blue like lapis and hair of water. Too soft in the face and too fancy a suit to have seen much action.
Ignored by most of the drinkers, the knight makes her way to the bounty board and attempts to pin her own parchment to it. "Come on," she says, "Get in there you... tack."
L: Naturally, I had to take a chance.
D: Were you always looking to help people, Nana Ling?
L: Y-yeah, I'd been helping everyone and their mum.
"Problem, mate?" asks the gecko, taking the page, "Going questabout, eh?" Her eyes dart back and forth from it and it's poster.
"Yes," says the knight, annoyed by the audacity, "But I have need of a guide into the Underdank." She looks the gecko over. "Doubt you'd be of any help."
L: The undine was in pursuit of her missing "roommate" from St. Chastity's. And ya know how the girls from there are.
J: St. Chastity's School for Lady Paladins?
L: The very same. Never been a straight lady in that building.
"Well, ya'd be wrong," says the gecko, "Name's Dr. Ling, local wizard and probo'solver." She hand the page back. "If your mate's up a gumtree, I can help. Ya got a name, lovely?"
"Maraja," says the knight, placing her fist over her heart, "Champion of Vanessa."
J: Vanessa? Really?
D: Who's that? Do you know her too?
L: I'm getting to that. Hold on.
"Champion? Then why ya looking for aid in a pub?" asks Ling, "We got a shrine up the way." She tilts her head at Marja's continued distrust. "At least let me show ya that far."
Maraja sighs, "Sure then." She shoves her paper into her bag. "Lead the way."
WLC 1.5: A House Divided
"You think I'll let you keep her in this hovel?" asks Jevoi, her eyes scanning the broken shelves and piles of refuse in the corners.
"As much as ya'd think I'd let ya take her to your fortress," says Ling.
"I'm willing to let YOU in," Jevoi's voice rises as small flames sparkle around her briefly, "I have a lab and a library."
"And I do not care."
Jevoi pauses. Her face slipping back into a smug malevolence. "There's also a pair of half-orc-"
"No."
"-Vrow twin-"
"NO."
"-Princess assassins-"
"n-n-no."
"-and their girlfriends are just dying to meet you."
The old lizard hissed and rasped. "Ya- ya- ya can't get me that easy." Ling pulls her hat down over her face.
"What else do you want?" Jevoi swings her arm into air. "Why would you rather live in trash?"
"This trash," seethes Ling, removing her hat, "Was your home. I spent half my life in this house and ya spent most of yours." She hops to her feet. "I built it. My life's work was done here." The room itself begins to shake. "Work ya destroyed."
Jevoi's eyes track Dalini, scurrying toward the back door. "Let's stay calm, Mum," she says, "We can still fix this. It's not too late. You don't know how many of your old friends are working for me now."
"Like who?" Ling scoffs, "Melandria? You think she's good for a brain?"
"She kept your old notes," says Jevoi, gesturing over to the glowing pod, "But there's so many others."
"Fine," says Ling, sitting down as the room stops shaking, "But first I need to tell ya 'bout how I met her."
"Why?" asks Jevoi.
"Story time!" shouts Dalini, racing back toward the fire.
"She's the first one to fund this," says Ling, "And we promised Dalini a yarn. So, sit down."
Jevoi summons an elaborate cushioned black throne to sit on; Dalini lies on the floor. "Oh, no," says the Empress, "Don't sit on the floor." She summons a matching stool which her daughter throws herself onto.
"Righto," says Ling, puffing up the fire, "Here's how I met the Shadow Queen."
WLC 1.4: Sun and Daughter
"Do ya remember," asks Ling to Dalini, "What I told ya about the sun?"
"Yeah," says the little one, releasing her grip on the wizard's robe, "The sun used to shoot light of the hole in it: shoosh." She wiggles her arms in front of her. "And it span around and around: woooo woooo woooo." The older geckos watched her twirl about. "But you didn't say why it stopped," she said, pouting and no longer rotating.
"Should we tell her?" asks Ling, "Why doesn't the sun shine?"
Jevoi scowls. "Sure, let's tell her... exactly why. Let's tell her everything about that happened that day." Jevoi's face contorted into a wicked smile. "Let's not leave out a single detail."
Ling looked away. "Maybe it's too soon."
Dalini hopped around into Ling's view. "But you said-"
Ling raised her hand. "That story's too... long."
"Dalini," says Jevoi, "We can tell that story later, like after you come home." She cracks a little smile. "Do you know what a palace is?"
Dalini shakes her head.
"It's a big castle filled with all sorts of things. We can go there and you can meet your other mother, my wife. We can get you new clothes and your own room and anything you want to put in it."
Dalini's eyes sparkle in the light. She inhaled an audible gasp.
"She isn't going," says Ling, "Without me."
"Very w-"
"I'm not going, so rack off."
WLC 1.3: Say, "The Princess?"
The wizard's daughter loosened her posture as she stared into the dark backroom. "Please, come out here," she says, her eyes aglow.
At the sound of shuffling behind the wizard, the old gecko sighs, "Fine, do it."
A smaller gecko in a ragged brown dress scurries quickly next to, and hides behind, the wizard. "Nana Ling," she whispers, "Who is that?"
"Don't act like ya weren't listening," says the wizard Ling, her focus still on her own daughter.
Said daughter takes a few steps forward, around the fire, and leans down. "I'm Jevoi, your mother," she says, smiling for the first time in months. "What's your name?"
The little gecko leans out from behind Ling and looks at her nana. Upon seeing a faint nod, she says, "Dalini. My name's Dalini."
"Dalini," Jevoi repeats, "What a beautiful name: Princess Dalini." Dalini tilts her head in confusion. In response, Jevoi stands tall again. "That's right," she says, "I am the Dead Sun Empress, ruler of the Inner Dark." She pauses, looking over her little doppelganger. "And that makes you-"
Ling scoffs. "Still trying to rename Inner Glow?"
"It hasn't glowed in eight years, Mum," says Jevoi, her eyes darting to the wizard's bone-infused hat rim which masks her.
"And whose fault is that, Jevoi?" asks Ling, leaning back so that Jevoi could see her face again, the face they share.
WLC 1.2: In the Long Quiet Night
In the half-buried atelier, surrounded by broken equipment and furniture, the two geckos continue to stare each other down. A soft red light faintly fills the room from the window of a large metal pod. Likewise, the bubbling from within it serves as the sound in the dead eternal night.
In front of the wizard, the remains a fire pit erupt back to life. She leans forward again. "Another cold summer day," she says with the faintest laugh, "Bring a gift? Or just more disappointment?"
"What I have brought are demands," says her daughter, scanning the room, "Where is she?"
"Look at you," scoffs the wizard, "Dressing like an elf, standing like an elf. Want me to turn ya into one?" She pulls one arm out of her robe; the long violet fingerless glove blend back into them, as she traces her finger up and down her daughter's image. "Nana Ning would be so disappointed."
"And whose fault is that?" exclaims her daughter, "The time I spent with her was measurable in days." She adjusts her fine black leather gloves. "And it's not as if you knew anything about us. How would you? But that's not the point. You're just trying to distract me from-" A shadow appears, just briefly, in the doorway in the back. "My daughter."
Wizard Lizard Chronicles 1.1: Prologue of the End
Under the blackened sun, in the half-buried remains of a town, walks a gecko in a regal military uniform. The gold trim of her dark suit matches the streak in the bangs of her long, straight black wig. A band of darkened scales sits across her face, pierced by her unyielding eyes.
"Back where we started," she mutters, as she approaches a the remains of an old stone alchemical store. Her boots kick up dirt as she marches, smashing through numerous magical barriers and wardings; her own power emanating from her (no fancy hand signs or magic words, just raw stubbornness) to clear her way.
She pushes open the battered door with a loud creak and steps in. The building is filthy, but not as abandoned as it appeared. Sitting in a chair of molded dirt in the dark is a figure in a robe and pointed hat. The wizard leans back to see under the brim of her hat and asks, "Came alone, did'ya?"
The intruder licks her eyes. "Yeah," she says, "Finally tired of running, Mum?"
Day 48 (1:24) of rewriting my novel
Ok today I thought I'd share the Lozerief song:
Particularly when the rhythm solidifies somewhere around the 57 second mark, but the whole thing really. It captures her vibe immaculately, I think; both the badass side, and the yapping side. (She's a chronic yapper.)
I only say this because I start Part Four today with Lozef yapping about the Heroes' plan to retake Ir Nouzonif. I also reveal in this chapter that Lozef loved Dolgof ("Lozerief, ner zimouhes ezimouhes Dolgofenif?"/"Zimouhes, ner lougodenif zisi!") (Lozerief, did you love Dolgof?/Yes, and you're a cow (as an insult)).
Usual suspects: @quillswriting @oldfashionedidiot
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Day 45 (1:21) of rewriting my novel
No piece of writing of mine would ever be complete without the 4-legged table theorem. So, I added it in today in the 1200 words I wrote. And I'm still not done with Part Three (but getting closer!)
Speaking of Part Three, I'm getting close two being done, I think. I have a couple gaps left to fill, but that's about it. I'm surprised I haven't managed to write the actually important last scene (that being, the meeting with Governor Bunthun.
I still feel bad about romanizing her name, but nobody (except people who read Cherokee in its romanized form) would figure out that it's pronounced [ˈbə̃.ˌθə̃] and romanized as bvthv. So, preying on the fact that English speakers (mostly) nasalize their vowels and <u> can represent the "strut" vowel, so [ˈbʌ̃n̪.ˌθə̃n] will have to do. It's close enough.
Meanwhile, outlining Part Four looms on the horizon, nebulous as it was before. I know how I want it to end, and the major points in between, but that's about it. Somehow, Part Five seems to be more fleshed-out in my mind than Part Four.
I still have to derive Modern North Zeneth, whose closest living relative is supposed to be Low Zeneth. It's derived from a northern dialect of Old High Zeneth that split away from Old High Zeneth about 800-600 years ago. Maybe then I'll have a better name for Bvthv, but it wouldn't make sense for Governor Luwbefê to call her anything other than Bvthv.
Character names are hard.
The Usual Suspects: @oldfashionedidiot @quillswriting
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OC Questionnaire Tag
Another fun tag game from @authorcoledipalo.
I'll use Izi, Hota, Taguchif, and Lozerief all together at the same time.
What would you do if your enemy asked for help?
Izi: Yeah okay so that happened once and I would've ground her to a pulp then and there if Hota hadn't stopped me.
Hota: Izi's too impulsive, and it can be a strength when in dire straits, but a costly mistake in other environments. I try to make up for that wherever I can.
Tagif: I'm not normally with Izi on these, but yeah. Definitely grinding Lozerief to a pulp if I ever get the chance.
Lozef: I'm not a fan of questions as broad as this, or being reminded of how I allowed myself to be used for the benefit of a literal tyrant. Obviously, I've been the enemy asking for help many times. Never have I expected any help, and yet somehow it all works out.
Would you ask your enemy for help?
Izi: Depends? Like, I asked Governor Luwbefê for help, but we didn't know how vicious he would go on to be.
Hota: No, but like Izi, I was duped into believing in the goodness of the Governor of Tolftorrijv. I was sorely mistaken.
Tagif: Yeah totally. The ends justify the means. They say that in English, right?
Lozef: Another very complicated, nuanced question. Like Hotautebz and Iziser, I didn't know President Sluwfa would be such an evil person, but I went along with her plans to remain unobtrusive. So, when she built the anti-magic bubble, I left and begged Iziser and Hotautebz to retake me.
Do you act on impulse, or do you think before you act?
Izi: Well, Hota already answered this question for me.
Hota: Yeah, I did. At least Izi's honest about it.
Tagif: Premeditated plans are the best, especially when building stuff. I'm probably more impulsive than Hota, and less impulsive than Izi.
Lozef: Hard to say. I would say I'm spontaneous but not impulsive, if that makes sense?
Paging: @oldfashionedidiot @theothersideofthewoods +open tag!
Day 36 (1:06) of rewriting my novel
Today was a day I didn't even think would be hard for me writing-wise, but it was. The vision in my head was "and Tagif, Hota, and Izi all go to Tolftorrijv uneventfully," but I decided to torture Tagif and Izi with their father's journal.
Xajas, Izi and Tagif's father, kept a journal off and on for like 900 years, and the last entry is about him battling his cancer. Here's a quote:
I told him to be loyal to himself first. Above all else, that is what he needs. I will always regret that I was not there to be with him when he needed me most. I believe it is his love that has kept me alive since Dolgof went away. That luck has run dry.
Last month, Lozef helped me write my will. I left everything to Izi. I explained to him everything I never could. About his mother, his sister, Lozef, the Heroes, and how his mother left the throne of Zeneste to him. Lozef promised she would see to it that I got it.
But I know better than to be so blind to how lawyers work here. They're greedy. They'll rip the will to shreds if they ever get their hands on it. The courts refuse to digitize it, so once it's gone, it's gone for good. Lozef is smart, and she's clever, but she'll never be more cunning than those damn lawyers.
My only hope is that Izi is clever enough-and bold enough-to find this journal before it's all spoiled to him. That he may remember me for who I was: not through the rose-tinted glasses of a child, but through the retrospective eyes of a century-old man who died before he could ever truly know me.
And to Iziser, my loving son, if you are reading this, I owe you the world. You're a strong kid. You'll be an even stronger man. Whoever is lucky enough to share your company I adore. Relish your life while you have it, young man. There is no Hero of Life to keep us alive. Only ourselves.
Part of this is also to highlight how brutal and capitalist the Zenestian legal system is. After Xajas dies, no matter how hard Lozerief fights to protect him, everything is taken from Iziser, including his house. The lawyers destroy the will and take everything, agreeing never to speak of this. This is an unfortunately common practice in Zeneste.
Day 27 (36 in base 7) of re-writing my novel
I started Part Three today. Progress still in progress.
Part Three will be particularly hard to write because of how loosey-goosey it is right now, but I'm nailing the plan down. At least the first several thousand words should be planned-out, for now. This part may be very long, like 30-40,000 words.
But it starts off in a particularly dark place. Spoilers ahead, for anyone who cares.
Part Three begins with Iziser reconsidering why he ever trusted Lozerief to begin with, and why she would turn on them. He initially believes its his fault. He also jogs a memory from being back in the only place he ever called "home," and he realizes Lozerief was fighting for him on the sidelines all the while. Why, now, would she go and take his magic?
But Lozerief comes around out of necessity in the end of Part Three. Will I use Lozerief to answer every question? Definitely not, there's still one more Part! And she doesn't have all the answers, only most of them. Including some of the biggest ones that she keeps hidden away from everyone...
Day 26 (35 in base 7) of re-writing my novel
I finished Part Two today! I will celebrate tomorrow (somehow). It is ~21,000 words.
The very end of Part Two explores what it is like to exist as a body without magic. Check out the following excerpt. Keep in mind, there are a TON of spoilers right here.
I blinked again, and Dolgof was on the ground.
I staggered back, clawing for Hota's arm, pulling them back as well as I stared at the Hero of Life's limp body, laying up against the lemon tree. Behind her stood the Hero of Earth. She gripped a syringe with white knuckles.
"What did you do," I shouted, "you killed her!"
Fangs bared, she kicked the Hero of Life. "Go on, tell him your dirty lie," she growled.
"Come," Dolgof whispered. "She won't hurt you."
Against my better judgment, I knelt down beside her. Her breathing slowed. Her hand laid over her stomach. Her cheeks drooped with fatigue. She was barely alive now, and she wouldn't be for much longer.
"I hid so much from you," she continued. "I hid myself from you for eighteen years. Only now-" she coughed "-only now do I tell you that, In Iziser."
She struggled for a breath. I lifted her head up. "What, what," I cried. My body shook, tears forming behind my eyes. "What is it?"
"You're my son."
No.
"I'm your mother, Izi."
I gasped and staggered back, hands covering my mouth until I fell hard on the ground. Hota picked me up. Still wielding her syringe, I begged the Hero of Earth, "what did you do to her?""I took her magic," she snarled. "I took the Hero of Language's, too. I'm going to combine them all, myself, and save Meiste. That's the easiest-no, only-way."
A body without magic is, too, aimless and stumbling through existence. An existence without the magic that fundamentally makes people people in Meiste is a painful one. Dolgof, once the Hero of Life, will remain a vegetable until the end of the novel, once they're able to reunite her and her magic.
