Unicorns vs Flarefoxes part 4

“So where are we headed?” Digger asked as he and the two younger foxes took off.

“We’re taking the scenic route,” said Singe. “Sightseeing.”

“Yes, you’ve said that already,” said Digger. “I just wondered where you’re headed first, and when you plan to stop and rest. It’s been a long night, after all. Surely you aren’t planning to travel much further?”

“We’ll stop when we want to stop,” said Singe.

“We were thinking maybe the lake,” said Spark at almost the same time. Singe threw him a dirty look.

It seems like a good place to rest,” said Singe.

 “Fair enough,” Digger said. “The closest side is a little over an hour from here by air.”

“We know what we’re doing,” said Singe. Digger decided to drop the subject and observe the duo. They had been careful to fly at least a short distance in front of him as though to say “We’re in charge here,” so he had a good vantage point to observe. What stood out most to him was the way they flew. It seemed like they couldn’t quite control the size of their wings, and they bobbed up and down a bit as they flew. They reminded him of young kits who hadn’t quite mastered flying yet.

I have heard of some conditions that can impair a fox’s use of magic, which can in turn make flying and wing control difficult, he thought. But in conjunction with everything else, I’m afraid the real answer might be much more sinister. What if they aren’t real flarefoxes at all? I’ve heard of shapeshifting dragons . . . could the dragons have something against us? The thought scared him beyond words, and he resolved to never let the pair out of his sight. I musn’t even sleep. Now why didn’t they send someone else with me so we could take turns sleeping?

Due to Singe and Spark’s slower flight, it took a little longer than Digger had predicted to reach the lake. The sun was peaking over the horizon as they arrived. The three foxes took a long drink, then Singe and Spark declared they were tired and found an out-of-the-way spot to sleep. Digger lay down a short distance away from them and shut his eyes, leaving one half open. He lay like that for a long time, fighting off sleep himself. As the sun rose, more and more foxes began to congregate near the lake, providing extra noise to keep him awake. His vigil finally paid off when Singe took a peak at him, stood up, and crept over to Spark. Digger twitched one large ear towards them, hoping to catch whatever the duo might say.

Spark said something too low to hear, to which Singe said, “No, not here. There are too many others around. Let’s just go.” Spark nodded, yawned, and stretched, and the pair slipped away.

Digger briefly considered chasing and confronting them, but decided he was more likely to wind up fighting monsters he couldn’t handle than getting information that way. Instead, he slipped after them as quietly and unobtrusively as he could manage.

The first thing he noticed was that they never took to the air. Instead, they kept their wings as low as possible. Digger did the same, not wanting to attract their attention. The other thing he noted was that they took a very winding, confusing path, even splitting up at times and meeting back later. Clearly they wanted to throw off any trackers. Whenever they split up, Digger chose to follow Singe. He seemed to be the leader of this operation.  He nearly lost them a few times when they slipped into crowds, but he always found them again. It wasn’t too hard to pick out a fox afraid of using his wings.

If they’re so afraid of using their wings, why don’t they just shapeshift? I suppose we are out in the open. There aren’t that many people around, and they are keeping to the outskirts and shadows as much as possible, but still . . . if anyone saw them, their gig would be up. Either that, or I’m completely off. That would be nice. I’d rather we were dealing with a rogue bunch of foxes than shapeshifting monsters.

As nearly as he could tell with all the twisting, turning, and backtracking, the two foxes were headed in a northerly direction. I guess it makes sense, he thought. There aren’t nearly as many foxes in the north, so it would be a good place to meet up with others. But there also isn’t nearly as much water.

Indeed, the longer they traveled, the fewer flarefoxes they passed. Sometime after midday they reached an area where no one else was in sight. The sun was blistering hot overhead, and there wasn’t much of a place to hide. Singe and Spark sat down to rest, and Digger melted into the yellow grass, hoping they wouldn’t see him.

“Here’s as good a place as any,” Singe said.

“Are you sure we weren’t followed?” asked Spark.

“Oh, we’ve been followed, alright. Here’s as good a place as any to show our curious tracker our true form. Then we can deal with him.” 

Unicorns vs. Flarefoxes Part 3

Here's the third part to my little short story :) But before I put it here, I have a promise to keep from nearly a year ago. Kristy Tate advertised my book on her blog over a year ago, so I need to link to one of hers. I don't generally read romance novels, and haven't yet read this one, but it looks pretty good :) (And don't worry, she hadn't read mine either when she posted it, so I'm not cheating her by posting it without having read myself!)

http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Fortunetellers-Tent-Kristy-Tate-ebook/dp/B00H2CA18U/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1400102389&sr=1-1&keywords=kristy+tate

Anyway, here's part three! 

“This is very disconcerting,” said the general as Singe and Spark disappeared into the Healer’s Den. “This isn’t the first case we’ve heard of recently where strange flarefoxes turning up and asking for assistance. I’ve received reports from several other bases and even one or two citizen communities of this happening. And there may be even more of the latter – the only reason I’ve heard of those ones is that the foxes who helped them to tried to verify their stories and couldn’t, so they become concerned. And that’s another thing; whenever we’ve asked them about where they were from or where they were going, they’ve given evasive answers, or ones that couldn’t be followed up. And every time someone has tried to stall or detain them, they’ve escaped.”

“How?” Digger asked, wide-eyed.

“We don’t know. No one can catch them doing it. They just . . . disappear, and we can’t even follow their scent. So I have a task for you. I know you’re new, but I think that will work to your advantage. It should make you seem less threatening. I need you to offer to escort them home. No, don’t just offer. Insist. Make it seem innocent, but don’t back down. Obviously they will try to give you the slip. Don’t let them until you’ve determined what their up to. Hopefully they will be less careful around you because they will see you as inexperienced. Which you are, but I trust you can pull this off. We need to know if they are a rival group trying to take over our territory, or even something more sinister.”  

Digger shuddered at his words. “I’ll do what I can,” he said.

Later, as he watched the stranger foxes leave the healer’s den, he reflected on just how non-threatening the pair looked. They laughed harmlessly at some private joke and playfully nudged each other, then gave him a smile as they noticed him. And yet, in a way, that makes them all the scarier, knowing what I know now, thought Digger. He swallowed his fear and sauntered over to them, doing his best to look non-threatening himself. Small smile with no teeth showing, ears pricked to show confidence, tail swinging slightly.

“Hey guys,” he said, “I’ve been assigned to escort you home. Hope you don’t mind.”

Singe and Spark glanced at each other, and Spark shifted a little.

“I think we’ll be okay,” said Singe.

“Ya,” said Spark. “See, thing is, we were planning on taking the scenic route home. You know, make a few stops on the way? We’d hate to waste your time like that.

Digger put on his best brotherly demeanor, smiling and sauntering over. “Oh, come on,” he said. “I’d think after that forest attack, you’d appreciate an escort. Especially if you’re going the scenic route.”

“Uhhhh, no,” said Singe in a firm tone. “Come on, let’s go,” he said to Spark. The pair started to walk off.

Clearly they didn’t like the big brother effect, thought Digger. Time to try a different approach. He ran ahead of them and turned to face them once more. This time, he kept his head lowered and wrapped his tail protectively by the side facing them. “Look,” he said. “To be honest, I’m really new here. I think they’re just assigning me to you guys to get me out of their fur for a while. It’s not like they expect you to really need any help. They just need to give the new guy something to do, you know? And it would be niceto get away for a bit. Conversely, if you don’t let me come, I may lose my position for disobeying orders, and that’s no good. So do you think I could come with you? Please? I won’t be much trouble.” He tried his most winning smile, once again being careful to show no teeth.

The other two looked at each other once more, and Singe sighed, then turned back to Digger. “I suppose you can come,” he said. A threatening note entered his voice as he continued. “But there will be no bossing us around, no telling us what to do. Even if it’s for our safey. We’re on something of a vacation, and we won’t have some adult telling us what to do. Understood?”

Digger nodded.

“Good,” said Singe. “Now, if you need to do anything, do it fast. We’re leaving.” 

Unicorn vs. Flarefox Part 2

Digger soared back and forth along his section of the southernmost border of flarefox territory. He guarded the edge where the open plains ended and a forest began. The long shadows cast by the trees under the light of his fiery wings creeped him out, just a little bit.

 “Don’t panic,” he thought to himself. “No one has bothered us from this forest in pretty much forever. Certainly no one will on my first night. That’s why they send the newbies to patrol here. It’s the quietest portion of the desert.” Still, he couldn’t help but think of all the horror stories he’d heard about this particular forest. Rumors of all kinds of bloodthirsty monsters filled his mind: prowling, three-headed wolves, ever-hungry panthers, and even more unspeakable beings. Get ahold of yourself, he thought. You didn’t join the border guards just to chicken out on your first night. Still, it might not be a bad idea to land and dim my wings. It’s hard to see into a dark forest when you have a bright light on your back. My nose is a lot better than my eyes, but it can’t hurt to be able to see as well. He landed and shrunk his wings to their smallest state—little more than a spark.

Now that he was on the ground, he kept moving at a trot to keep himself warm. He kept his nose to the air, sniffing for anything strange. His large ears twitched constantly. So many smells flooded his nose that it was hard to pick them apart, but he knew that with time he would learn to differentiate them. He’d already come here a few times on training missions to familiarize himself with all the scents and sounds.

Eventually he did start to smell something . . . different. He couldn’t make it out at first, but it quickly resolved itself into the scent of other flarefoxes.

Now why did it take me a moment to realize that? He thought. My nerves must be more jumbled than I realized. Jumbled enough that I’m sitting here thinking about it, rather than calling out to them to find out what they’re doing in the woods in the first place. Probably a couple of dumb kits on a dare. Except . . . it smells like one of them is injured.

“Who goes there?” he called out loud. Who goes there? Really? I sound ridiculous. “Don’t you know that these woods are dangerous?” he called again.

“Tell us about it,” a masculine voice said. Two foxes exited the woods, one supporting the other, who was dragging and injured back leg. “We had a run-in with . . . well, we aren’t sure what it was. He got his back leg torn. I cauterized it with heat from my wings once we got away, but he’s too shaken up and in pain to fly. Oh, my name’s Songe, by the way. And this is Spark.”

“Oh my goodness,” said Digger. “We’d better get a healer to look at your friend and make sure there’s no further damaged beyond what you cauterized. Then we may need to talk about what attacked you. Did it seem like a wild best, or is there any chance it was something more sapient? Someone that might be planning to attack us?”

“It smelled like a plain old bear,” said Spark. “We had our wings at little more than sparks so we wouldn’t start the forest on fire, so really, any wild animal could have mistaken us for a snack. We didn’t have them lit enough to scare anything off.”

Digger gave them a weird look. “You do realize you can control any fire you create with your wings, don’t you? You should be able to keep from burning the forest down. “The other two just looked at each other, and Digger shook his head. “Never mind, let’s just get going.”

Snippits and book signings

Hello all! Just wanted to announce that I will be doing a book signing on December 20 outside Eborn books in the Provo Towne Center mall. Leading up to it, I'm going to start posting a short story on here about the war between the unicorns and the flarefoxes. I ask you all to remember as I do that this is only very lightly edited; it hasn't been through everything I did with my book before publishing it, so please don't read it and think that all my writing must be unpolished! This is just for fun :) Although, I am always open for any critiquing of it you care to give ;) Anyway, here''s the first part. Hope you enjoy!

     Sharp-hoof shuddered a little as he watched warrior Blunt-horn approach the unicorn chieftain. Even among unicorns, Blunt-horn had a brutal reputation. Not quite brutal enough to exceed the chieftain’s own, perhaps, but still. Sharp-hoof wasn’t sure he wanted to know why the warrior had called this meeting. He wished he didn’t have to be here.

     Blunt-horn approached the chieftain and bowed so low his curved horn almost touched the ground. “Sir,” he said, “I request permission to lead an army to engage the flarefoxes.”

     The chieftain snorted and shook his massive head. “Even for you, this is foolhardy, Blunt-horn. Absolutely not. You know I, as much as anyone, itch to engage them. That their territory is so close to ours and yet so untouchable haunts my dreams. But open desert simply is not conducive to our fighting abilities. We rely too much on stealth. In the open we would be slaughtered.”

     Blunt-hoof’s mouth curved up into a sly grin. “What if I told you I’ve mastered full-body shapeshifting? I could teach it to all your warriors, provided their magic is strong enough. Just think of the possibilities. To have the more delicate of our warriors trade their unfortunately feeble frames for that of a beast far stronger. To have our most cunning take on the forms of the foxes themselves and infiltrate their camp. The flarefoxes need not ever elude you.”

The chieftain’s face changed to match Blunt-hoof’s own. “That would make all the difference,” he said. Sharp-hoof shifted, uncomfortable at the turn this conversation had taken. “You have a concern, Sharp-hoof?” said the chieftain.

     “Well . . . meaning no disrespect, Sir, but yes,” said the younger unicorn. “What have we to gain by fighting the flarefoxes? Even if we conquer them, what then? We aren’t built to last in the desert, so it would purchase us no more land. It would give us nothing that we need. We’ve already conquered so many others—we have miles upon miles of forest and all the riches it has to offer. Even the phoenix pays us tribute. If we attack the foxes, mightn’t we just be inviting unneeded trouble? Besides, flarefox territory is all too near dragon territory. And that is trouble we don’t need to invite.” He shuddered.

     “And who’s to say we couldn’t take on even the dragons?” said the chieftain. “We are warriors!” He stamped his hoof.

     This from the unicorn that moments ago thought we couldn’t even take out the flarefoxes,” Sharp-hoof thought, but didn’t dare say anything else out loud. The chieftain continued to address him.

     “I will brook no arguments on this. Understand, young nephew, that land is not the only thing to be gained from war. The flarefoxes may have many reassures that may be of use to us. Perhaps some rare desert plant that cures ills, or imbues power. Or perhaps nothing we can use directly, but that could be traded for something else of value. We could even force the foxes to labor and fight for us. You must think outside the box. Others will always have something you don’t. Always. If you have an advantage, you attack. That’s the only way to survive in this world. Understood?”

     “Yes, sir.” Sharp-hoof took a step back and bowed.

     “Now,” said the chieftain, “All warriors are to begin training with Blunt-horn immediately. Those who master the art will be rewarded. Anyone else who complains or rebels will be given much more reason to complain. Is that understood?”

     “Yes, sir,” said all the unicorns.

     “Good. Get to work.”     

Edits complete

Well, I've uploaded the edited Kindle copy of the book. Now I just need to get the edits into the hard copy. This should be interesting . . . Thanks for your patience everyone!

Lessons learned the hard way

So I'm in the middle of trying to recruit reviewers for a blog tour, and in one e-mail I sent I included a little defense of myself as a self-published author because I was requesting a review from a group who rarely do self-published books. I feel like I've put enough time, care, and effort into my book for it to have been published the traditional way had I chosen to go that route; if I didn't, I would never have published it at all. I wrote and rewrote and had it edited by multiple people and fixed it again. I had as much of it as I could read through in writing groups and bounced ideas off of other authors and made adjustments based off of their input. I took writing classes and used the skills I learned. I put a lot of work into this book, and I told them that while I understood if they refused on the grounds that it was self-published, but I'd appreciate it if they gave it a chance and, if they refused, refused based off lack of time or interest and not publishing methods. (I hope I didn't come across as snotty.) Well, shortly after I'd sent the e-mail, my mother-in-law came' in and pointed out to me what has to be one of the most glaring errors in publishing history. Three words, "Dismiss the insult," randomly placed at the end of a paragraph with no apparent connection to anything. I must have created that error somehow after my editors had gone through the book, because there's no way they could have missed something like that. So now it's confession time.

I hate to read my own writing. I should have read through the thing one last time to check for things like that (and anything small that the editors could have easily missed), one last time before publishing the book. I had ample opportunity to do so, but I'd read my silly story too many times and really, really didn't want to read it again, so I trusted that anything serious had been caught and that I hadn't created any other problems like that while editing and formatting and published the book without a last read-through. Well, I've learned my lesson. Never, ever, ever, ever again. I do not want to give a bad name to self-publishers, and I hope I haven't already destroyed my own reputation before I've had a chance to really build it.

Okay, so maybe that's a bit dramatic, but that's how I feel right now. You don't usually see mistakes like that in books published through any respectable corporation. The odd wrong or misspelled word here and there, maybe, from time to time. After all, even their employees are only human. But not a random phrase like that . . . sigh. So I've taken my book off the market for now to fix it and give it a good read-through to check for any more errors. Hopefully it will be up again in the next few days. And eventually I will look back on this and laugh. For now though, I think I want to go curl up into a ball with chocolate.

Why "Optional First Chapter"?

Since I'm sitting up with a wakeful baby anyway, I thought I'd address a question that no one has asked me yet but that I'm sure people will. Why title my first chapter "Optional First Chapter?"

Well, Chapter Two was originally my first chapter, minus a bit of explanation that is now given in the new first chapter. I loved the idea of starting it that way; I felt it was exciting and attention-grabbing. But every time someone would read that first portion of my story to critique it, they were left feeling confused and wondering if I hadn't given them the beginning of the story. So, after talking with my sister-in-law, I decided to write a prologue to give the readers a little more information to start off with. I tried to make it engaging and interesting, but wasn't sure I'd done as good of a job as I wanted. Then I read some writing advice that warned against prologues. And I have to admit, I feel a little put-off by books with lengthy prologues; I want to get to the story! But my prologue wasn't one set in the past, or from the point of view of some other random character. It could easily just be chapter one, so I made it that. But it still wasn't as engaging a beginning as I felt the now Chapter 2 was, so I decided to title in "Optional First Chapter," I figured maybe that would amuse readers a little, and if they found it too boring they could just skip ahead. And if they got too lost, they could go back and read it knowing that there was more interesting stuff ahead. So there you have it; my weird logic behind the first chapter :)

Published!!!!!

Well people, I've done it! I submitted it to Amazon to be published on Kindle! I want to publish a softback copy through Amazon't CreateSpace too, but first I'm going to wait and see if I run into any issues publishing the ebook first. Still, if all goes well it should be published within the next 24 to 48 hours. 

So what's next? Well, I have an idea or two for a prequel and maybe a sequel, but that's not what I'm focusing on right now. Another idea grabbed me almost out of nowhere, so that's what I'm focusing on next. After all, if I don't love the idea, how can I make the reader love it? I really do want to write the prequel and possibly other sequels, but I think it will be good for me to take this break and step into another story for a bit.

What's this new story, you ask? Well, it's still set in the same world as Elf Tears, but it takes place on another continent; one populated mostly by humans. Other beings do exist, however, and the main character is one of them. She is a shapeshifter and  was once a being of high power, serving under the Aquinix. But she let that power get to her head and was cast down to wander the world for millenia, serving others and seeking redemption. At the beginning of the story she comes across a battle and is led to save an older officer about to be killed. She'll team up with and have some kind of adventure with him. If all goes well for her, she'll hopefully find some kind of peace by the story's end. I guess we'll see where it leads me!

New Backer Reward!!!

I am adding a new backer reward! Because I'm not getting many backers, I've decided to publish an early edition of the book, and anyone who pledges at least five dollars will receive a copy of it as soon as it is out (I estimate mid- to late- January.) Then, if my funding goal is met, I can use that money to get it edited and get the pictures I want and publish a better second edition. (And, of course, fund all my advertising plans!) If my funding goal is not met, then I will find other ways to pay for the editing so I can still publish a polished second edition. I'm looking forward to this! :) 

The book will be made available just as soon as my beautiful artist adds some color to the picture of Erron overlooking the forest so I can use it as cover art. It isn't the picture we're working on for the final cover art, but it's gorgeous and we can modify it fairly quickly so that I can get the book out until I can afford to pay her for the other picture for the second edition. Yay!!!

Kickstarter's Up!!!

Just letting you all know I now have a Kickstarter project up to get my book published! Thank you all for following my blog, and go check it out and pass it on! Thanks so much!!!


http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1515947860/elf-tears-war-magic-and-forgiveness

Prologue

I have finally finished my semifinal draft of Elf Tears! All that's left now is to get the Kickstarter for it up and running so I can have it professionally edited (as well as advertise it and all that jazz). Then I will prepare the final draft and publish it! In celebration, I am sharing the prologue with you all. It still needs edited as it is only first draft quality, so feel free to tell me what does and doesn't work.

Prologue

“I can't take it anymore, Phen,” elf princess Éadra told her best friend. The pair stared outside the castle window watching the sun set beyond their forest home.“Our troops are tired, our people are tired, and I'm tired. I'm tired of healing our soldiers day after day, only to see them go out to fight again, or even get killed. A war fought entirely on the defensive can never be won.”

“I'm tired too,” Phen replied, “but how can we ever take the fighting back to Erron if we can't even find his fortress?”

“That's the question, isn't it?” Éadra's voice was bitter. “I'm about ready to explore those mountains myself, see what Erron's hiding in there and how he's keeping us out.”

“Don't even think about it,” Phen said. He took Éadra by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

“What?” she said. “You know I wouldn't really.”

“Yes, you would.”

Éadra hung her head. “I just have to do something, Phen.” She fiddled with the diamond that hung on a chain around her neck. “I wonder what mother would have done?”

“She would have put your safety first. Yours and Learé's. That's what she always did. She wouldn't want you risking your life like that.”

“I know, I know.” She paused for a moment, then changed the subject.

“I found something interesting in my chamber the other day,” she said. “I dropped this necklace behind my bed, and when I moved the bed to find it, I discovered a mural of a unicorn.”

A teasing look crossed Phen's face. “You don't think it's hiding a secret passageway, do you?”

Éadra laughed. “Phen, we're not kids anymore. I'm not going to go running through the castle looking for secret tunnels.”

“We wouldn't be running through the castle,” he replied, voice innocent, “just checking a single room.”

“Come on, Phen, why would a mural of a unicorn be hiding a passageway?”

“Why does that diamond have 'Heloth Uniqa' engraved on it?”

Éadra shrugged. “My mother was obsessed with that mountain. She believed there were unicorns still living there on its unreachable peak.”

“And your chambers used to be your mother's. Maybe she knew more than she let on.”

Éadra chuckled. “You're insane.”

“Please?” said Phen. “Humor me?”

“Fine,” said Éadra.

They walked to her room and shoved the bed aside again.

“Good grief,” said Phen as they pushed, “this bed is heavy.”

“It's a big bed, and the canopy doesn't exactly help. Why do you think I'd never moved it before? Come on, one more push and we have it.” They shoved and the bed moved, exposing the larger-than-life rearing unicorn that had been hidden by the canopy.

Phen immediately ran up to the wall and began to study it. “I don't see or feel anything that suggests this is anything other than a wall, but that doesn't mean there isn't something here.”

“Well hurry up; I can't spend all day here.”

“Oh, lighten up, Éadra,” he said with a smile. “That meeting isn't for another few hours.”

“Maybe there's some kind of magic password,” she suggested.

“Maybe,” said Phen. “Now, what could it be?”

“I don't know, there are probably thousands of possible combinations.”

“It's probably something related to unicorns.”

“Like what? Horn? Hoof? Heloth Uniqa?”

The wall opened, and Éadra and Phen stumbled back in surprise.

“You have to be kidding me,” said Éadra.

“Wow. We have to come back later and explore it.” But Éadra was already stepping into the tunnel. She turned back to Phen.

“This could be the answer to everything,” she said.

Phen looked confused. “How?”

“If this leads to Heloth Uniqa, if mother was right and there are unicorns there, maybe they could help us. Unicorns were supposed too be vicious fighters. Who knows? They might even be able to get into Erron's mountains.”

“Now you're just being unrealistic. Besides, if they could help,don't you think your mother would have asked for their help long ago?”

Éadra sighed. “Maybe, but I still have to try.”

“This is the kind of impulsive thing we were just talking about, Éadra.”

“Says the one who insisted on checking for a secret passage.”

Phen shook his head. “I was just having fun, I didn't think there was really something here. Look, at least go to the meeting first. Tell your councilors about the tunnel and see what they say.” Something in his voice made Éadra pause.

“I don't know that I want to take this to the council,” she said. “They bicker and debate for months on end sometimes, and our need is urgent. Besides, if I wait, I'm going to talk myself out of this. sIf I'm going to go, I have to go now.”

“Don't you at least want to tell your sister?”

Éadra shook her head. “I don't want to get her hopes up. I'll tell her if it works. Just make up an excuse for me, okay?”

Phen took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said.

Éadra gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks Phen. You're the best.” She took off down the tunnel, leaving her friend behind.

Character Profile: Éadra

So I realize that it's been a while since I last posted, and I need to remedy that. I'd been hoping to have my next blog post be announcing fundraising for my book on Kickstarter, but I decided to make some changes to the Kickstarter project to make it better, and it's taking a while. Still, I hope to at least have it up by the end of the month and the book out by the end of the year. This is all taking longer than I would have liked, but I really think it's for the best and my book will be better for it.

In the meantime, I would like to introduce Éadra, the healer twin and the character who's been with me for the longest time :) .

Name: Éadra
Species: elf
Hair Color: black
Eye color: green
Height: 5'4"
Likes: exploring, climbing trees, hiking, reading, riding griffins
Dislikes: competition, large dogs
random character trait: highly impulsive, to the point of idiotic at times. This impulsiveness can stem from either curiosity or desperation.

Excerpt (from her servitude in Erron's fortress):

“Oh, my,” she said when she saw the flood in the room. She rushed to create a barricade in the doorway with her towels in the doorway to prevent the water from spreading any further.

“Yes,” said a small man with graying hair. He was sitting in front of a strange contraption with lots of stone tubes. “I'm afraid that experiment didn't go quite as planned.”

Éadra chuckled in spite of her irritation at having to clean such a huge mess. “I should say not,” she muttered. This is going to take a lot of towels to clean, she thought. Then an idea struck her. She knew that water was a good conductor of magic, and she'd had to direct the flow of blood a few times in her healing, like when she'd healed the soldier's concussion. Could she control the water like she'd controlled the blood?

The man had a few empty pails in one corner of the room, most likely what he'd used to bring the water in. She grabbed one of them and took it to the center of the room, and then knelt down, shut her eyes, and put her hands in the water.

Directing her magic into the water was easy; she'd done it thousands of times before. But this time, instead of letting it flow through the water into something else, she restrained it and tried to make it attach to the water itself. It was easier than she'd expected; blood must be more like water than she'd thought. She pulled back on the magic, and the water followed. She opened her eyes again and managed to direct some of the water into the pail beside her. She felt a strange sense of exhilaration. This was fun! She realized just how much she'd missed using magic this past while. She stuck her hands back in the water and tried again. Soon she found that she could get a steady flow going by smoothly alternating which hand she was putting in the water and which one she was pulling out. It was a simple task, much easier than healing, but she was hungry and had little energy. After filling the first pail, she stopped and wiped sweat off of her forehead. She felt eyes on her, and turned around to see the human staring at her.

“How are you doing that?” he asked.

“Magic,” she said, touching one of her pointed ears.

“Oh, right, you're an elf,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you people work magic like that.”

She gave him a half-smile and grabbed another pail from the corner. “You probably shouldn't be talking to me,” she said.

“Oh I'm sorry, I don't mean to disturb your work.” He shuffled back to his strange machine and started muttering to himself over it.

Éadra immediately felt bad. “You aren't disturbing me,” she said. “I just don't want you to get caught. Erron says he'll kill anyone who talks to me.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes. “That's you? I didn't realize...I'll just get back to my work. It never happened.” He winked at her, making her smile.

She filled a second bucket, then plopped down on her bottom and put her head in her hands. Her belly rumbled. The man looked at her and left the room, returning moments later with towels in his hands. He wordlessly started laying them down to soak up the remaining water, pausing for a moment when he reached the last towel. He unfolded it to reveal a hidden apple, which he allowed to roll to the floor.

“Oops,” he said to no one in particular. “I seem to have dropped my apple. I don't like them bruised. I'll pick it up later.” He gave her a small smile and jerked his head towards the apple. She smiled back, grateful, and grabbed one of the towels he'd laid down and started drying, working her way over to the apple. When she reached it, she scooped it up along with the now-soaked towel. She then picked up the rest of his towels, as well as the ones in the doorway, and took them out to the laundry. It was evening now, and by sticking to the shadows on her way back to the castle she was able to eat the gift without being caught.  Even here, it seemed, she was never without a friend.

Another picture by my awesome artrist. This one's of the twins!

Healing, Anthrax, and Avoiding the Dreaded "Mary Sue" (and an awesome picture, just for fun)

One of my main character used to be a full-blown, sickly-sweet "Mary Sue." I admit it. She was so bad she made my mom cringe, and my mom usually likes what I write, even when I don't! Once she pointed that out to me I rewrote the story trying to fix that, but in my latest draft I came across a problem that could potentially make her look that way again, which is what today's blog post is about.

See, at one point in the story, Éadra is tasked with healing three patients in Erron's infirmary, and I felt it was important that she fail this time. Also, the disease had to at least appear to be very contagious; the other healers had to be scared enough to refuse to treat the patients for Éadra to have to heal them. This presented me with a problem; if the disease was highly contagious and she couldn't cure it, she would likely catch it and die from it. This would not work at all for my story! However, the situation was too important for me to just drop it. I could just have her not catch it, but without a good reason for it I was afraid this would send her straight back into Mary Sue territory, making her too perfect and special to ever get sick. Through research I finally hit upon a solution, but I couldn't make the reasoning clear in my book, so I will lay it out here. Perhaps someone with greater medical knowledge can correct me if my reasoning is too faulty :) .

I discovered that anthrax was around in the Middle Ages. From what I gathered, it's a hard-to-kill spore but not airborn. So, I made the original patient a tanner who tanned an infected cow skin. The spores got on his clothes, so both the healer and the elf who washed those clothes had direct contact with the spores and came down with the disease as well. This would make it appear to be highly contagious at first, but by the time Éadra gets there, the remaining spores are all the patients' bodies (the rest having been tossed away with the laundry water). She has no direct contact with the spores and so doesn't get sick.

So, thoughts? Is my logic sound, or at least sound enough that any flaws can be chalked up to artistic license?


In other news, my awesome sister-in-law is going to be my artist, and has made me my first picture for the story. It will be part of a presentation on kickstarter, helping me fund-raise to get this book out there! Take a look!

Finally, a decent picture on my blog!!!

Fight with a Dragon (excerpt)

This is a scene I've always thought was kind of fun, so I thought I'd share it today. This occurs when Éadra is being taken to Erron's fortress.

Dragon!

Disaster took the form of a small gold dragon. Small, however, was a relative term. It was three times as tall as Éadra, and twice as long as it was tall. Its head was free of horns, but its tail ended in a sharp spike. It was frantic--whether from fear, or from being driven mad by the mental fog, Éadra did not know. A broken chain dangled from its neck.

The soldier swore under his breath and dismounted his horse, leaving Éadra to deal with the terrified beast.  Éadra barely noted her captor drawing his sword and charging the dragon. The greater part of her attention was focused on keeping her seat as the horse beneath her bolted away from the dragon. Fortunately, the human had kept her in front while riding, so she was able to take the reins. She held them firmly but gently in one hand while she patted the horse's neck with the other and spoke soothing words. But the horse would not be quieted, so she jumped off and ran back to the knight, allowing the horse to flee with all their supplies.

The knight's sword lay shattered on the ground; his battered shield hung precariously from the tail spike. The knight himself was attempting to climb the broken chain as the dragon reared and batted at him with its front claws. He somehow managed to evade the angry claws long enough to take a stab at the dragon's neck with the knife he'd carried up in his teeth, but then the dragon knocked him to the ground. But one claw scraped through the scales where the knife had found no purchase. Its skin shone white underneath the golden scales.  Éadra nabbed the knife from the now-unconscious soldier and leaped for the chain. The dragon grasped at her as it had at the human, but she swung from the chain onto its claws, and jumped from there to its neck. She managed to drive the knife into the now exposed skin. Her weight pulled the knife from the top of the exposed skin to the bottom, and boiling blood dripped from the wound.  Éadra let go of the knife and fell to the ground, but not before a drop of blood hit her arm, burning it. The dragon shrieked in pain and flew off.  

Éadra groaned in pain and crumpled to her knees, clutching her burned right arm with her left hand. She forced herself to let go and look at the burn and saw that it was already blistering. She grabbed her flask of water and poured some on the burn. The momentary relief from pain allowed her to clear her head and concentrate. She shut her eyes and reached into her core, summoning her healing magic. She pulled it up to her burn and felt the quick relief. Healing herself was easy and usually required little energy because the magic was so attuned to her body. Now for the human.

She walked over to her captor and knelt down beside him. His forehead was covered in blood, but she knew from experience that even minor head wounds bled a lot. She used a little water from his flask to wash away some of the blood and find its source. There—it wasn't bad at all. It was long and it might scar, but it had already stopped bleeding. But that didn't mean there wasn't internal damage. She put her hand on the still-damp portion of his forehead and pulled her magic forward again. This time, the water served to conduct the water out of her and into his, while still allowing her to be connected to it. She shut her eyes and felt around with the magic. She found a ruptured artery near the back of his skull. If she didn't act quickly, the damage would escalate beyond her ability to heal. But did she want to heal him? If she left him here unconscious, she could return to the elves with the information about the spell surrounding the mountain. Except that the horse had run off with the potion. There was no way she'd make it out. But healing him would as good as give away her true identity. Even if he didn't know that Éadra was the only one of the twins who could heal, Erron certainly would. Maybe she should just continue on to the fortress herself. Could she find the way? Was it even ethical to leave him? Without treatment, he might die. She was always the one who insisted on healing the enemy soldiers left wounded on the battlefield after a battle. She was always in control of the situation then, though. If she healed him, she'd just be putting herself in his mercy all over again. She writhed inside, weighing ethics against pride and freedom. Then she realized she didn't have much of a choice: even if she could find Erron's fortress all on her own with no supplies, she couldn't just waltz up to the gates and turn herself over. Not only would it look incredibly suspicious, but also they'd expect her to tell them everything she knew in return for sanctuary from the mountains. Either that or they'd just kill her. Decision made, she went to work.

  As quickly and neatly as she could, she drew the pooling blood back into the artery, aiding it with extra magic to make sure it integrated neatly without disrupting the flow. Then she sealed it off and searched for signs of brain damage. There was some, but less than she'd expected. Good. She didn't have enough energy to do much more repair work, and even a little brain damage would be difficult to fix. She threw the last of her magic (and energy) into reviving the dead cells, pulled back out of his head, and passed out.

Character Profile: The Aquinix (With excerpt, as usual)

I'm taking a quick break from elf characters today to introduce you to the character who is quite probably the hardest for me to write: the Aquinix. Sort of a large, sea-blue phoenix, (but with a head more like a bird of prey than a songbird head like a phoenix traditionally has) the Aquinix is to my world as Aslan is to Narnia. He's sort of a Christ figure, watching over the characters and guiding their steps. He came into being slowly, starting with a picture I drew once of a flarefox staring into the sea while a giant blue eagle rose from the water. I later had this image in my head of a blue eagle-like creature flying over a dead forest with water flowing from its wings to revive the trees. This, plus the scriptures about "healing in [Christ's] wings" all came together to give birth to this creature.  It has been very hard for me to write him without feeling like I am being too cheesy or dramatic or something. I still don't know that I've done all that well; I'm certainly no C.S. Lewis, but I hope that I can at least touch people a bit. Anyway, here is the Aquinix!

Name: unknown
Species: Aquinix
Age: ???
Height: 7'0"
Likes: flying, healing, protecting
Dislikes: War

Excerpt: (this is a dream Éadra is having)

Éadra saw the great gold dragon in the distance, running towards her. She tried to run away, but it was like trying to move through molasses. She turned around and saw Erron behind her, gripping her by the arms. He was laughing. Then he began to grow and change, turning into a lion. But he was twice as large as a lion should be, and had the ears and tail of a fox. His muzzle was also a bit thinner than it should have been, and his mane was blood red. The rest of his fur was tawny with a reddish undertone. He'd become a reyle, and she was trapped beneath one of his enormous paws.
The dragon arrived, and the reyle roared a command. The dragon glanced at her for one terrifying moment, then raised its head and flamed. Blue fire shot from its mouth, striking a mountain in the distance. Éadra tried to scream a warning, but her voice wouldn't work. The pressure from the reyle's paw increased.
The dragon sucked in air, preparing to flame again. But before it could, an eagle's cry filled the air. Éadra looked up and saw what she thought at first was some kind of blue phoenix. It had a long, elegant neck and a crest on its head. But it was too bulky to be a phoenix, and its tail was like that of an eagle. Its beak was sharp and curved.
At the sight of the strange bird, the dragon checked itself and calmly trotted off. The reyle ran away in fear. The bird flapped its wings, and a flood of water washed away the rest of the scene, leaving behind nothing but a soothing white. It landed in front of her.
“Aquinix,” Éadra whispered reverently. It nodded.

“Will you help them? Please?”
“I will show them how to help themselves.”
Éadra grew frustrated. That was impossible. The only thing that could pierce a dragon's scales was the claw of another dragon.
The creature before her seemed to know what she was thinking. It covered her with its wing, and she found she was standing again. “Trust me,” it said. “I will protect them.”

Character Profile: Learé (with excerpt)

Today's blog post is about one of the main protagonist: Learé. Learé's introduction was an interesting one. Originally, Éadra was the only protagonist. I had just changed her name from Lightfoot to Swiftfoot (I had a different naming scheme at the time, obviously). Then one night I had a crazy dream where my story crossed over with Lord of the Rings, and instead of Swiftfoot being Lightfoot's new name, she was her twin. (She was also dating Treebeard, but that;s a whole other story!) I liked the idea so much I kept it when I woke up, and they've been sisters ever since.


From her beginning, Learé has been a foil for her twin. Where Éadra is a gentle healer, Learé is a fierce warrior. Éadra is openly emotional, but Learé buries her feelings inside. This does not mean that she is unkind or doesn't feel; she's just afraid of being hurt--a side effect of her mother's death so many years ago. She's definitely the more prone of the two to being sarcastic.


Her mother's death also affected her in another way: she feels a strong need for control. Her helplessness to prevent her mom from dying has led her to do everything she can to prevent tragedy in any other aspect of her life. Letting Éadra get herself captured is probably the hardest thing she's ever done. Deep down, though, she still cares about people. Her trouble is that she shows it in an over-protective way to those she loves most; she tries to prevent situations from putting them in danger, and will argue with them if they want to do something she sees as dangerous. In the end though, she will back down, especially if they point out that she's being too much. Part of her character arc in the story is learning to let go, and not be a control freak.


Name: Learé (pronounced Leer-ay)
Species: Elf
Hair color: BlackEye color: green
Height: 5'4"Favorite color: Blue
Favorite Food: All kinds of soups (She also harbors a secret passion for chocolate, but she won't admit it!)
Least favorite food: Onions
Likes: Archery, sword fighting, horse-back riding, trying new things; in general, keeping active and busy
Hates: sitting around, waiting, losing control
Deepest wish: not something she even quite admits to herself, but to settle down with someone and find peace in her life.


Excerpt: (Learé and two other elves (Phen and Tasu) are riding griffins back from a journey)  (Sorry it isn't broken into paragraphs. I am having issues with blogger today.)

It was just after dawn one spring morning when they reached the mountains again. They came in nearer to the pass than they’d intended and discovered that Erron had soldiers waiting not only at the pass, but for some distance to the west as well, as though he’d been anticipating that they might try to go around. And those soldiers had crossbows. An arrow came whizzing toward Learé, and her griffin panicked. It dodged the bolt and took off, out of control. It was all Learé could do to hang on, let alone reach for her bow and arrows. She yelled at her griffin and glanced back at the other two. Phen was still in the air, barely, but Tasu and the two pack griffins had been taken down. She called to Phen to escape while he could, and he obeyed, but not without shouting a command at her griffin. Her griffin wheeled to follow his as he flew up in front of the rising sun, making it difficult for the soldiers below to take aim. Learé used that moment of weakness to string her bow as quickly as she could, and not a moment too soon; there were now six griffin riders flying at them. Her own griffin panicked again, and Learé called out to Phen as she fumbled for an arrow. There was no way she could fire arrows accurately while trying to keep her seat on a terrified griffin. Phen yelled another command, and the griffin stopped and hovered long enough for her to fire off a couple arrows, but before she could even make sure they hit the creature was off again. There was no stopping it this time. It had never moved so fast, and it was all Learé could do to not fall off. She accidentally dropped her bow as she grabbed instinctively at the griffin’s neck feathers for a handhold. She’d never felt it fly so fast before; soon she was burying her head in its neck to keep from vomiting. Her heart pounded as the creature flew on and on; she could hear the other griffin riders shouting, but their voices were growing more distant. After what could have been a few minutes or over an hour, it finally slowed, circled, and landed. She could feel its heavy breathing as she sat there trying to catch her own breath. She slid carefully off the griffin’s back, then leaned against its side as she tried to steady her feet. When she raised her head, she saw Phen standing next to his own griffin a few feet away. “Are you alright?” he asked her.“No, I’m not alright,” she said. “I misjudged where we were and brought us too close to the pass. My griffin went crazy and took me goodness-knows-where. Tasu fell and I have no idea if she even survived. And Erron’s soldiers are probably still after us.”“Okay, first off, you weren’t the one leading us. We were following Tasu,” Phen said.“But I should have realized where we were,” said Learé.“No, you shouldn’t have. We were traveling in unfamiliar territory. We were all doing the best we could, and you can’t blame yourself.” “Well at any rate, I need to go back and see if Tasu’s okay. Just tell me how to keep this stupid griffin from panicking again.”“That griffin saved your life,” Phen said. You won’t be able to keep him from panicking; he’s not been trained for war like your horses. But he came from a line of racing griffins, so he’s a whole lot faster than Erron’s beasts.”“Great, maybe I can dodge around them then.”“Learé,” Phen said in his gentlest voice yet, “Tasu didn’t survive. And even if she did, they would have taken her to interrogate her by now. It’s too dangerous for you to go back, and it would all be for nothing.”Learé felt desperate. “Maybe not,” she said. “Maybe she was knocked unconscious and they mistook her for dead.”“Erron’s men are far too thorough for that. And how will you fight them? I saw you drop your bow.”Learé slumped to the ground, defeated. She put her head in her hands. Phen walked up and put his hand on her back, but she leaned away from his touch.“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it’s hard. I didn’t want to leave her behind either.”“Nothing is working right,” she said. “I can’t keep anyone safe or alive.”“Yes, you can,” said Phen. “Sometimes things happen that are out of our control, but you can’t let that stop you. And look at what you have managed. You got the ilei; that could potentially save hundreds of lives and help us end this war.”“If we can find our way back.”“We aren’t lost; I know where we are.”“You do?” Learé looked up at him. “Sure. I had better control of my griffin than you did. I just followed you when yours took off to make sure you were okay. Unless I’m mistaken, all we need to do is head north and a little east and we will hit the beginnings of the flarefox desert, near where we left the mountain when looking for dragons.”“Let’s get going then,” said Learé, standing up. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” asked Phen.“I’ll be fine,” Learé snapped. She just wanted to get going, to have something to do. And she wanted to put as much distance between her and the tragedy as possible. So she and Phen remounted their griffins and took off flying.

Book Excerpt

One reader requested a book excerpt for a post, so here's a piece from the beginning or the book. (It has not yet had its final edit, so there could be errors. I apologize in advance.) Next time will be another character profile :)

The elf princess Éadra burst out of the hidden passageway in the wall, stumbled, and fell.  She smiled as she picked herself up, brushing her long black hair out of her green eyes. For the first time in ages, she felt a sense of hope. It was small, true, but it was there.  She glanced out of the window and saw the sun creeping up from the trees of the forest below her.  She had to find Learé.  

Her twin was in the armory practicing with her sword.  Hair pulled up in a tight black bun and green eyes flashing, she shot around the room, double-edged sword slicing through the air like a beam of light.  To  Éadra, Learé seemed to be doing some sort of deadly dance.  She had a practiced grace and dexterity that  Éadra could only dream of.  She stood there a few moments admiring her twin before calling out her name.

On hearing her name, the warrior princess turned on a dime, bringing her sword down to her side and letting her shield drop.  “Where have you been?” she said.  “Erron’s men attacked again while you were gone.  Seven hundred dead, six hundred more wounded, and you weren’t here.”  She threw her sword down to emphasize her point.  

Éadra held up her hand and looked up into her sister’s eyes.  Seven hundred dead, she thought.  She writhed inside, and for a moment questioned the wisdom of leaving so suddenly.  No, she told herself, it’s okay.  I did what I needed to do.  I hope. Still, she could not shake the feeling that her twin's criticisms were warranted, and her stomach twisted. But she refused to show it. “I’m sorry, Learé,” she finally said.  “I hadn’t meant to be gone so long, but I’ve found something that will turn the tide of the war.” She smiled, but Learé said nothing, her face a mask. So  Éadra continued.

“I found unicorns,” she said.

Finally the mask broke, and Learé's eyes widened.“What are you talking about?  The unicorns died out long before we were born.”

“The ones that lived in the forest did.”

“Which is all there ever were.”

“Come with me,” Éadra said, grabbing her sister's hand and dragging her out of the armory.

They made their way back through the castle and into Éadra's chambers, where the bed was shoved away from the wall. The hole that Éadra had come through was gone, replaced with a mural of a unicorn on solid wall. Up until last week, it had been hidden by the canopy of Éadra’s bed.  

“That's just a painting,” Learé said.

“Not quite,” said Éadra. She took off her necklace and tossed it to Learé.  “I dropped that behind the bed last week, and when I moved it I found the mural.”

“You should be more careful with mom’s necklace.”

“Look carefully at the gem.”

Learé rolled the star-shaped diamond around in her hand.  “I don’t see anything.”  Éadra took it back, flipped it over, and pointed to an engraving in the bottom right ray.  

“Heloth Uniqa,” Learé read.  “So you spent the past week trying to hike an unclimbable peak?”  Then she noticed that the wall had opened.  

“No, I spent it finding my way through the tunnel that leads to the top.  Not all the unicorns died when the flarefoxes attacked.  Some of them found a new home on the highest peak in the Hemya mountain range.”  

Learé studied her twin as though looking for some sort of sign that she was lying. Then she said carefully, “You realize what you are saying, don't you? Unicorns are supposed to be violent creatures. If you've found some, if we could enlist their help...that would change everything.”

There was an underlying tension to her voice, Éadra thought. It was as though she was pleading for it to be true. They needed good news, after all the horror they'd been through together. And so  Éadra hesitated, knowing Learé wouldn’t like what she had to say next.  “They have agreed to help us, and this could change the tide, but not in the way you’re thinking.  The unicorns were warriors, once. They were violent and bloodthirsty. In fact, they provoked the flarefoxes. But that went horribly wrong, and those who survived vowed never to fight again. Their descendents on the mountain have never had any training. They would be butchered in a fight. What they’ve agreed to do, though, is just shelter us for now.  They’ll let our people hide there while we recover our strength, but they won’t fight for us.”

Learé glared. “I want a way to win,  Éadra. I don't want a place to cower in defeat.”

Éadra glared right back, “It's not cowering in defeat. It's giving our tired, wounded soldiers a chance to rest and recuperate. We can't just keep sending them out until they drop dead from exhaustion. It's giving you a break from leading them. And it's giving the civilians a chance to get away from this war-torn forest.”

Learé folded her arms against her chest. Her tone was clipped as she spoke. “This is hardly the time for an extended vacation.”

Éadra sighed inside. She knew Learé would react like this, and she hadn't even reached the worst part yet. “I haven’t finished yet. We aren't going to just be hiding. I want you to take our people to Heloth to recover, yes. But while you do that, I’m going to find Erron’s fortress.”

Learé sat down on the bed in surprise. “Are you out of your mind?  Nobody who tries to do that ever comes back.”

Good,  Éadra thought. She's sitting down.  “Not when they try to just follow the soldiers home, no. But we’ve never sent anyone to find it through being captured now, have we?”

“What? No. You’re not going to get captured.”

Éadra sighed again, this time out loud. How was she supposed to convince Learé of this when she was uncertain it was a good idea herself? But the fact remained: they were desperate. They'd been on the defensive far too long, and it was costing them. And that, perhaps, was her selling point. Out loud she said,

“We can’t stay on the defensive forever. We’re losing.  Besides, there was one exception to the unicorns’ refusal.”

Learé laughed bitterly. “What, sacrifice one of your princesses to the enemy, and then we’ll help you?  Otherwise too bad, guess you’ll just have to spend the rest of your days hiding on a mountain.”

Éadra clenched her fists, biting back frustration. “No, they said they would help us if we found the fortress. Then we can lay siege on it or something.  I’ll get captured, scout out his fortress, and find a way to escape. In the meantime, you'll be teaching the unicorns how to fight. Then once I escape and meet you there, we can lay out battle plans; exploit his weaknesses, instead of him always exploiting ours.”

“And you plan to get out how?  Walk up to the guards and say ‘Excuse me, but I was just dropping in for a visit.  Do you think I could go now? I need to go home to my people so that we can conquer your castle.”

Éadra knew Learé was right, but she had one small hope she clung to. She sat down on the bed by her twin. “I’ll find a way, Learé. Remember the stories Mom used to tell us about the Aquinix? How he's always helps the elves in their hour of need? Well, the unicorns have a similar tale, about how a great bird came to their ancestors in the aftermath of the battle with the flarefoxes and led them to the mountains. They said he looked like a cross between an eagle and a swan, and was as blue as the sea. He sounds just like Mom described him. I think he's real, Learé. I just need to find a way to contact him, to convince him we need his help.”

“And the perfect place to do that from is a dungeon in Erron's fortress.”

Éadra shrugged. “Maybe he'll see me there and realize just how great our need is. Or maybe I'll try praying to him—Mom said he was some kind of messenger from our Creator. Maybe he can hear prayers. Anyway, if that doesn't work, if I can't find a way out, I’ll find a way to poison Erron himself.  I’m not going to let Mom’s deaths be in vain.  And it will be, if we lose to Erron.  She died protecting us from him.”  

“And the perfect way to honor her death is to send one of us into his hands to be killed, just like he killed Mother when he caught her.  Éadra, your plan is ridiculous. You're relying on fantasies. You sound like some kind of tragic hero, running off into the hands of a murderer to die for your country. Well I hate to break it to you, but the world doesn't work that way. Your little plan isn't going to work.”

For one small second, Éadra lowered her eyes. Her insides writhed in a combination of anger, embarrassment, and pain. But she couldn't let Learé break her yet. She had one last card to play.

“If you don’t want to take our people to Heloth Uniqa that’s fine, but you can’t stop me from finding Erron.  I loved mother just as much as you did, and I promised her that I would protect our people.  I’m tired of watching you lead them out to battle, tired of waiting inside to heal the wounded.  I’m tired of being helpless to save so many of them, just as I couldn’t save mother.  And most of all, I’m tired of fearing that one of these days I’m going to lose you, too.  As I was looking for you earlier a scout found me and informed me that more of Erron’s men are on their way.  They’ll be here within a week.  What you do is up to you, but I’m going to make sure that I get captured, even if I have to walk out and hand myself over.  I’m tired of this.  I’m going to make certain that this war ends, one way or another.”