Beautiful Books - the NaNo Novel

So I finally decided to do one of these. And apparently it turned out quite fun, and plus cool new pictures.

I love making cool new pictures. And fiddling around to make it a unique/quirky/yeah just plain random header picture is always good fun.

So today I get to introduce you to the novel I will be writing for NaNoWriMo. Agent Kit, book #2 of The Outlaw Legends! Including lots of car chases, outlaws, guns, bashing things, grumpy Generals, and mushroom clouding explosions.

As I said. Good fun.

So I'm gonna answer some questions so you know a little bit of what I'm talking about.


1. What inspired the idea for your novel, and how long have you had the idea?

Well, it's a sequel to Monsieur Scattlocke, so it came somewhere while I was writing that and I realised that this story totally wasn't about to stop. And plus, that character totally needed a story from his point of view. I'm guessing I had Agent Kit in my head since about...June/July-ish.

And book 1 didn't satisfy my thirst for dystopian (considering most of it was actually in 'the Experiment' which is all faked medieval-times), so I needed more of the hacking and tech and flying cars (called Vans) and guns and security-camera-dodging and all of that stuff. Wherefore, Agent Kit is lacking in none of them.


2. Describe what your novel is about!

Synopsis time!

AusIntel Undercover Agent Benjamin Kit never meant to get lost. He'd been minding his own business spying in the Middle East when he took a wrong turn and found himself in the middle of Britain.

Now back in his home-ground, he thinks that maybe things will start making sense again. It doesn't last long. 

When tragedy occurs, throwing the AusIntel Headquarters into chaos, Ben is determined to prove Will Escarlate's innocence, and find the man who actually did it.

With mad car chases, narrow escapes and gun shots flying in all directions, Ben is doing what he was trained to do.

And being hunted by the entire world isn't as easy as he'd thought. 

So yeah, basically it's about Ben Kit and Will Escarlate running around in the Great Federation making the General (leader/head dude of the GF) very annoyed and trying to save the world.


3. What is your book’s aesthetic? Use words or photos or whatever you like!

Not sure if I should mention that all these pics are reasonably innocent and happy compared to the blood and gutsy stuff of the actual book...Nah, I'm not going to mention that. 
I mean, take a look at that little gap the guy is jumping across. Pfft. That's got nothing on jumping from a flying Van, smashing through a window and...whatever Ben decides to do next. You never know with Ben. He could be dropping in to buy hot chicken for all I could guess.


4. Introduce us to each of your characters!

(Main Character)
Ben Kit: a quirky dork, good (depending on your definition of the word) at driving in a car chase even though technically he can't actually drive, AusIntel (the Australian Intelligence Service) Undercover Agent (not 'officially' finished training, but that's just another technicality), loyal to his friends, reasonably good when it comes to all those fight scenes, including the one just after he got shot. Oh yeah, spoilers. *laughs evilly*

(MC from book 1/second main/what even does he do in this book other than get motion sickness?)
Will Escarlate: Big time outlaw (from everywhere but Australia, and that's a tentative statement at the moment), was the leader of the Sherwood outlaws before--nah scrap that, more spoilers. Not a good person to have on car chases as he has a bad case of getting motion sickness, a highly good companion when it comes to all things running, outlawing, sneaking around the Great Federation and


5. How do you prepare to write? (Outline, research, stocking up on chocolate, howling, etc.?)

Howling. Lots of howling. Oh and plotting. I've done a bit of that, but it's still pretty vague as of yet. And NaNo is tearing down on me like a...like a...a Van that Ben is driving. I think my doc after NaNo will be very keyboard-slam-filled.


6. What are you most looking forward to about this novel?

Writing it. And falling in love with the characters again. And explosions. And fight scenes. And I promise I'm perfectly sane.


7. List 3 things about your novel’s setting.

Uh, dystopian. Big city with lots of flying Van things. Erm...Lots of explosions. The setting is...okay, I'll revert to a picture.

Allll the gloomy darkness. That actually looks sort of depressing. Probably because it doesn't show any of the snarky comments and Ben's often-amusing thought train.


8. What’s your character’s goal and who (or what) stands in the way?

Erm...*thinks hard* *jumps onto Scrivener to check out the planning sheet* Um. Basically he's tying to prove that Will didn't do you-don't-know-what and you-don't-know-who actually did do you-don't-know-what and to do that they need to get by you-know-who/the villian/General Malevich.

So...yeah.


9. How does your protagonist change by the end of the novel?

Ahem. Well...he's got several more scars. He knows more about actual fighting, not just training. He's in trouble up to his neck (no difference there). To be honest I haven't plotted all the way to the end so I'm just making this up as I go right now. He and Will are now permanently inseparable friends. *has a flash of inspiration* Ooh that's mean...that's really mean. I gotta go write that down.


10. What are your book’s themes? How do you want readers to feel when the story is over?

They should be in the depths of despair and agony of course. Not that I know how it's ending, but I'm pretty sure it's not gonna be happily ever after. Hence there's a book 3.

On a more serious note, I think some of the themes would be loyalty to friends (and friendship in general), and standing up against the wrong and stuff. And explosions.

Well...I blew that serious moment just then didn't I? *laughs*

I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Except I'm not.


And now you have a few snippets more of an idea of what this book is even about. Not that I know very much. But that's what the NaNo-prep month is for: freaking out about not knowing.

But I'm really looking forward to NaNo. Bashing my head against the keyboard. Killing the laptop battery. Carrying around my Agent Benjamin Kit pens (WHICH ARE SO AMAZING AND IT'S LIKE FANDOM SWAG STUFF OF MY OWN BOOK THAT I HAVEN'T EVEN WRITTEN YET, THANK YOU OH MY SISTER OF EPICNESS).

In general: It's gonna be great.

I mean, I might die, but I'll have fun doing it so...*shrugs*


So what are you doing for NaNo? 
(if you aren't doing it, how's the general writing stuff going?)
Was this at all informative, or are you just as clueless as me?

|| Jane Maree ||

Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: A Yearning Yawner

I cannot believe you guys.

No one - not even one person - voted for option one.

And that was the one option that had actually originally been part of the story before I decided it was going on for too long and cut if off. So that 500 words sitting around in the document is now gonna have to sit there forever unused.

But that's the fun part of having it as a choose-your-own-adventure-thing and I just have to go with whatever you decide. So I don't actually mind all that much.

So basically, King's-Healer Kindness got most votes for option three. Dastardly dreams strike again.

And then I realised we're closer to the end than originally planned. But I don't think we're quite close enough to finish off next week. I'll have to see when we get there. My guesstimate is at least two more. Not entirely sure though.

And yes, I do realise that the title on the picture is actually the wrong way around. *headdesk* But I literally only just saw and I couldn't be bothered to make a new picture.

I steeled myself, facing the thought that battered for attention. I needed to dream again.

As soon as I had the thought a ripple of fear shivered up my spine.

I couldn’t do it.

I wasn’t strong enough.

But Altin had saved my life, I couldn’t just let him die while I had the power to save him.

My breath jerked in my throat, and I squeezed my eyes shut. A hand touched against my forearm, and I looked up into Elva’s anxious eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

I couldn’t do it. “I—it’s—” burying my face in my hands, I gave up.

How could a fifteen year old girl do anything against something like Dark?

How could anyone?

“You have more battles coming,” Elva murmured, sitting down beside me. “I see. You remember what I said first we met?”

She paused, waiting, but I couldn’t answer. With a faint sigh, she continued. “Brains are better. Swords, age, size. They no matter, as long as you use brain first and find only way out.”

I didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see her earnest face filling with disappointment.

She didn’t understand.

“Friends matter. To have friends, you must have brain. You need brain to choose the friends that can help in battle.” Elva didn’t seem to care that I wasn't responding. “Warin is good friend. So is Mister Quest, and Leonora-girl. But they no can help you now.”

Frustration bubbled in my chest, raising my head I glared at the healer. “What are you trying to say? Just give up?”

Elva looked at me steadily, eyes reproaching. I closed my eyes again, the anger fizzing down as quickly as it had come.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed.

I had to do it.

I needed to dream.

Surely there had to be some other way to find out.

A knot twisted in my stomach, and I knew.

It was always like this, from the very beginning. I had to come. I was the only one who could fix this thing.

They were all counting on me.

“Please, I…” taking a deep breath, I forced the words out. “I need something that will make me fall asleep.”

Elva pulled back slightly, her dark brows twisting into a concerned frown. For a moment I thought she would protest, ask questions I wouldn’t be able to answer.

Questions I didn’t even know the answer of.

The healer paused and then nodded, rising and stepping toward the door, beckoning me after her.

I pushed up from the floor, following through into the corridor. Elva stood by a half open door, nodding for me to enter first.

I slipped through, stopping a few paces into the dim room, curtains drawn over the window, only a sliver of sunlight trickling through across the low bed.

Altin lay, a silent form, barely breathing. Warin was slumped, fast asleep, on a chair in the corner. Elva stepped in behind me, moving softly to a table of bandages and healer’s ointments.

I couldn’t take my eyes from Altin. He was so still.

What if I was too late already?

Elva pressed three grey leaves into my hand. “If you are certain you wish to do this, these will do what you want.” She pushed me into the only spare chair.

I curled my fingers around the herb.

I couldn’t make myself do it.

The King’s Healer bent over Altin, fingers adjusting the bandage with light touches.

I had to do it.

Pushing the dried leaves into my mouth, I chewed slowly, eyes fixed on Altin’s limp hand trailing over the side of the bed.

My vision blurred, and I couldn’t breathe.

No going back now. Thoughts flew away and I slipped into unconsciousness.

Almost immediately I began to dream.


Marius crouches in the darkness, struggling and twisting against the iron shackles that hold him to the cold stone wall. The steady dripping of water is the only other sound.

Then a slow, cold laugh chuckles its way out from the darkness, coming from every direction at the same time. Echoes bounce off the walls, multiplying the sound thousands of time louder than it started.

A man steps forward, hood shadowing his face, shrouded in fabric darkness. “Your struggles are pointless,” his hoarse whisper slips from beneath the shadow of the hood. “Give in, and I can make it all go away.”

A clawing hand emerges from the swirling folds of the cloak, moving slowly toward Marius.

“Give in…just give it all up…hope has no place here…”

Marius’s body shudders and an echoing hiss fills the darkness as a glimmer of Light trickles from him, doused at last by growing Darkness.

The hand touches his chin, raising it so Marius must stare into the dark, shadowed face. With a moan of despair slipping between cracked lips, his body goes limp.

The laugh echoes again, filling the Dark with its evil triumph.

Suddenly Marius changes, his skin becoming darker, hair growing blacker, longer and scruffier. Until it is Gypsy Boy.

Blood – dark, red blood – smears his side and the stones behind.

Standing beside the dark cloaked man is Marius, wrapped in the same Darkness as his Master, a scorning leer twisting is lips.

A trail of Dark curls up from the wound in Altin’s side, brushing against his slumped head, sliding around the back of his neck like a serpent.

“Yes, good…” Dark murmurs the words softly. “He is drawing deeper, closer. She will come soon. She knows she must.”

A fresh swirl of Darkness pushes toward Altin, dancing around him in a whirl of pain. He stirs, tensing against it.

“She will come, and we will be ready to receive her.” Dark steps closer to Gypsy Boy, watching the Darkness moving in still further. “And you, Marius, you will be the one to bring her. You will lead her here. She will join us.”

And Marius hesitates.

For a mere flashing moment, he hesitates.

But then he replies, “I will bring her down.”


Voices. They pulled me from the dream. Wrenching me into reality once more.

Warin lent over me, eyes wide. “Louise, what did you do?”

I felt the floor pressed against my back, cool and calming.

“I sorry, Captain, I should not have let her.” Elva said from behind. “It my fault.”

Warin glanced up and then back at me. “What did you do?” he repeated.

My breath came back to me in a gasp, thoughts pounding against each other in a confusion. And then from the jumble I knew one thing.

“Warin. We need to go sailing.”

“Sailing?” He gaped. “What do you mean sailing?”

“On the Rift.” I pushed into a sitting position. “We’re going sailing on the Rift.”

Warin was speechless for a moment. “But…where to?”

“An island.”

He looked bewildered. “What?”

I met his gaze. “We’re going to save Marius.”

҉

1. Warin stopped, mouth half open. “You know the crew aren’t going to like doing this, don’t you?”

2. Warin blinked and clapped his hands together. “Right then. It’s about time by now.”

3. “Captain!” A crewman dashed into the room. “Some’uns outside making a terrible row ‘bout something.”

҉

So there we are. I'll admit that the options are a little odd, basically because I had no clue what to make them. Hopefully they'll do though.

Why do the endings of these things always sneak up on me so?

Anyways, hope you enjoyed it.

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||

Blogging Hiatus: LIFE basically

Yes. It is true.

I am taking a blogging break. Or hiatus, as it seems to be called apparently.

The picture kind of says it all.

First off, we're having holidays starting in the third week of October. Visiting our Grandma for a week and then heading off to another homeschooling friends place and then were going on to a home school conference.

Those are pretty big plans for us. It involves lots of driving to get places, and with a family of eight that's not cool. Being stuck in the car for the entire day, cramped, having to listen to everyone, that musty closed-up smell of travelling the car gets.

But it also involves a peaceful week of (hopefully) relaxful holiday, some fun getting together with good friends and the words 'home school conference' speak excitement for themselves.

We're going to be sooo dead after all that.

And we get back just before November and NaNoWriMo.

Yes. NaNo is on in just a few weeks. And I still don't know what the plot of this book is and I'm trying not to panic. Not sure if being plotless is a good situation for a NaNo-first-timer. (Hence this month is going to be stuffed full of planning so I hopefully won't be winging it, but I'm not guaranteeing anything at this stage)


So you may gathered it from all that but here's the biggest announcement:

Swords, Sails and Scoundrels serial story will be on hold for six weeks.

During Camp NaNo I was just able to keep up with the serial story, but this time I'm putting it aside so I can focus completely on Agent Kit (book 2 of The Outlaw Legends, and what I'm pretty sure I'm going to be writing for NaNo).

From now, there'll be two more installments of the story, and then you'll have to wait until December before it kicks off once more. (Whoa. December. Okay, I just freaked out about how far through the year we are.)


But don't worry! The blog won't actually be completely silent since I'm writing up a couple of posts to schedule for the end of October and possibly one or two in November. Unfortunately though, there won't be very many comments by Jane Maree on all the lovely blogs I follow. Don't miss me too much. :)

I'm just hopefully going to have a nice peaceful break so I can relax and smell the gum leaves.

...

Either that or type like insanity to try and reach this impossible goal of 50k which is 20k more than I've ever written in a month before and eat pizza and cry and probably get a bruise on my forehead. Hopefully the letters on the keyboard won't be rubbed off by the time November is over.

And while I'm gone, I know you will all be faithfully cheering me on because you guys are just so great like that. :)

Who else is doing NaNo?

|| Jane Maree ||

Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: King's-Healer Kindness

I lived! Surprisingly the force-shields worked well and I've lives to write more.

Luckily for you, or you'd never know what happened. I guess it's like one of those books "we need her alive."

Anyway, Queries and Questions  ended up with the most votes for option one. So basically one won (and one must wonder whether I'm actually fifteen or just pretending).

And since you're all dying to know how Gypsy Boy is after a week of being mostly-dead* I'll stop talking and let you start reading.

*There's a big difference between mostly-dead and all-dead.

“It’s Altin. He wants you, Louise.”

Warin lifted me to my feet before I fully realised what he had said.

Altin. He’d jumped in front of the sword.

For me.

The crew of the Rift had fashioned a sort of stretcher from two staffs and a tunic and jackets, binding it together with a length of rope to ensure it stayed firm.

Altin.

He lay on the ground, the gold light of the watchtower glowing off his black hair, every breath came in a gasp.

How much longer would he still be breathing?

Two men lifted him onto the makeshift stretcher, their movements slow and cautious. My feet were frozen to the ground.

I just wanted to run from it all.

Then I was on my knees next to the panting form, his hand gripped between mine.

“Altin—” The word choked in my throat. “Altin, why?”

His dark eyes met mine, half fogged over with pain. “I couldn’t let you...give up now.”

“But why?” I didn’t understand.

Why would he do it for me?

“You aren’t finished yet.” His breath jerked and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Someone knelt on the other side of the stretcher, pressing a wad of fabric against the wound. My stomach heaved and I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes on Altin’s face.

“You can stop all this and...all I could do was...” His hand tightened momentarily.

His face blurred in my vision and I blinked back the tears, unable to speak around the lump in my throat.

Altin had bested me.

He looked like a sulky, unfriendly boy, yet when it had come to it he had risked his life.

For me.

Would I have done the same?

I didn’t think so.

“Don’t forget me,” his words came out in a shuddering breath.

“Altin no! Stop talking as if you were dying—” I broke off as the man on the other side of him laid his hand on my shoulder.

“My lady, if we don’t get him to the town soon, to a healer, he’s not going to make it.”

“Please...no.” I heard the sob in my voice.

The pirates lifted the poles of the stretcher and I scrambled to my feet after them.

“Fare you well, Louise Conwell,” he breathed. “Fair winds.”

I lifted his hand to my wet cheek, struggling to get the words out past the tightness in my throat. “Goodbye, my Gypsy Boy,” I whispered.

“Fair winds.” The words slipped between his lips like a shadow, his eyelids slowly closing. 

Pain crushed my chest tighter, and I couldn’t follow as the pirates stepped away, toward the distant light of the town.

Altin might die because of me.

He might have given his life for me.

And what had I done?

Nothing.

Accusing thoughts swirled through my mind, battering from every side.

What had I ever done?

I couldn’t stand it any longer.

I ran.

I ran from everything, bitter tears tracking down my cheeks.

Warin caught me before I could lose myself.

“Louise. Louise please. I know it’s hard, but you can’t just run.” His arms around me kept me from escaping again.

“Just let me go. I don’t care about any of this. I never wanted it.” As soon as I spoke the words I hated myself for the selfishness in them.

Had I thought about the people who were risking themselves for this?

Yes. Yes I had.

And that’s why I wanted it to stop.

I couldn’t be responsible for something like that.

“Louise!” Warin shook my shoulders, glaring into my eyes. “Don’t give up. You can’t. Not now. The time for giving up was before, you’re too late for that.”

My heart dropped. “I can’t do this.”

He shook my shoulders again. “Yes you can. It’s hard, it was always going to be, but you just need to keep going.”

Jerking backward I hugged my arms around my stomach. “You never even liked him,” I let the accusing words slip between my teeth, tasting bitter fury.

Warin’s eyes reflected a deep pain. “I’m sorry. It’s not—not because of him. It’s…” He stopped, drawing the back of his hand across his forehead.

“What?” I demanded.

“He reminded me of someone.” Warin’s voice croaked strangely.

A distant echo of pain hissed through his lips in a sigh.

The anger and hurt seeped from me, leaving behind only the lump in my throat. “Who?”

Warin raised his eyes from the ground, his tormented gaze meeting mine. “My brother.”

I couldn’t speak, not sure what to say.

“I couldn’t save him, Louise. I tried.” Warin stopped, turning away. “That’s why I know you have to keep going. Giving up never helps, it just hurts even more.”

“I need to find him then.” I stared numbly at the ground. “I need to find Marius.”

Warin’s hand touched my shoulder. “Yes. But just now we need to get to the town. Food and a healer will do all of us some good.”

I nodded, glancing up at the town and feeling the distance yawning wide ahead.

After all I’d done, walking to a town would be easy.

I took five steps before Warin started carrying me.



Warin couldn’t find a healer.

The tavern had closed after Marius’s appearance and none of the remaining wanderers in the streets wanted to speak to a group of strangers.

Even strangers with a dying Gypsy Boy.

I collapsed against a wall as Warin started pounding on the tavern door, yelling for the owner.

At this rate, we’d never find help in time.

Gypsy Boy was still, unmoving on the stretcher but for the faint flutter of a breath every now and then.

He was alive, but it wouldn’t last much longer.

“Please. Someone, anyone.” I found myself whispering under my breath, unsure who I was hoping would hear.

“Please. We need help.”

Perhaps the Light would hear.

Not that it had any of the other times I’d called to it.

I sighed, burying my face in my hands.

A door creaked beside me and a swish of fabric made me look up into a dark brown face of a woman. Scrambling up, I grabbed her arm.

“Please, we need help,” I gasped, desperate.

A moment passed and then a white flashing smile broke across the shadowed features. “It is you! The girl without a sword.” Two arms spread and pulled me forward. “Help? I give help. Perhaps you been in more battles, yes?”

I gaped. Who was this?

Why was that voice familiar?

“Louise!” Warin was beside me, hand on my shoulder. Eyes falling on the tall woman, he stepped forward. “Can you help us? One of my...men is sick, and we need to find a healer. Do you know where one lives?”

“A healer? That is easy, Captain. I am healer. Come inside, I will look at him.”

Warin spun on his heel, beckoning to the crewmen carrying Altin. They stepped forward, the healer holding the door open and standing back for them to enter.

“Please come in. All are welcome. Friends of my friends always have room here.”

I stumbled forward numbly, searching my mind for an answer.

Healer.

Someone who is my friend.

My thoughts collapsed in on themselves and I allowed myself to be led into a warm room, slumping down against the wall, the warmth of the fire seeping into my frozen fingers.

Brains are better.

The healer from the palace.

What was she doing here?

I drifted into an exhausted sleep.


When I woke, light sifted through the window and danced off dark brown hair as the healer crouched in front of me, studying the palms of my hands, brows creased into a frown.

She was meant to be healing Altin, not me.

“What about Altin?” I asked, blinking the sleep from my eyes.

A smile broke across her face once more, seeing me awake. “My friend!” she said in greeting, “You have slept long and are looking much the better for it.”

“Altin? Is he alright?” I pushed into a sitting position.

She leant back on her heels, lips pursed, eyes sorrowful.

Dread settled in my stomach.

“He made it through the night,” she said.

“But...?” I almost didn’t want to hear her next words.

“The wound is not normal. It...” she trailed off, white teeth biting against her lip for a moment. “...It is Dark. The sword that did it must be bad sword. Dark. I am trying everything, but it might not help.”

I curled my hands against my legs.

I couldn’t live with the responsibility.

“If there’s anything that would make him better that you don’t have, we’ll get it.” I swallowed back the desperate lump that rose in the back of my throat.

“He need Light.” The soft words pushed the panic aside.

Light.

I’d asked for help, and someone had come.

Maybe Light was real after all.

But if it was, why would Altin be hurting so much?

Who would let something like that happen if they had the power to stop it?

“But no worry. Elva will do her best.”

“Elva?” I frowned.

The bright smile widened. “Me. I am Elva. You are Louise. The Captain is Warin Wielder, I think.”

“But—how do you know Warin’s name?”

Elva’s eyebrows raised in amusement. “Much talking in sleep. A room of pirates. Many sailing terms.” She half turned and glanced around at the crew, awake and talking together in low voices.

Turning back to me, she took my hands again, the intent crease between here brows returning. As she ran one finger across my palm I realised with a shock that there was no pain. Pulling one hand away, I flexed my fingers experimentally, only the slightest echo of hurt.

I could see why she’d been made the Royal Healer.

“How come you’re not at the palace?” I asked.

Elva looked up, releasing my hand. “The King gave me leave to visit my family.” The wide smile returned again. “Very good thing, too.”

I nodded. “Yes. Very good thing.”

Very good coincidence?

Or was it something more than that?

҉

1. If Altin needed Light to heal the Dark wound, surely the Light could defeat Dark itself then. And surely Dark would know where his arch enemy was.

2. If I could find Leonora and Eumin, they’d know what to do about all this.

3. I steeled myself, facing the thought that battered for attention. I needed to dream again.

҉

As you can sort of see, these options are pretty important basically because I have no clue what in the world in going on and I need your help.

Also, there's the letters X and Y left for the titles and I am not looking forward to naming next week's. Or the week after. Speaking of weeks-after there's going to be an important announcement on Monday so be ready for that.

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||

Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: Queries and Questions

It's over. 

Any hope that I might ever get stop being called 'Jane the Cruel' is gone with the wind. This week was apparently my test week, but...I'm fairly sure I've failed the being-nice test so...sorry about that.

Disclaimer: I love my characters. But it has to happen.

But really, you brought it on yourself. I never expected that I would be writing option 2 but hey! Equal votes for 2 and 3 last week so I tried to include both. Except they're sort of completely different, so that was very easy, and option three-ish stuff only comes in way at the end.

But!!! I'm hoping that maybe it'll be satisfactory.

Unless you were hoping for a happy* story.

*if you were, I protest, I never said this story would be happy.

Also, sorry for the late-ish post. The internet was playing up for half the morning.

Marius. No. He couldn’t be here.

But the other half of me was crying. Sobbing with relief.

Finally.

I’d found him, and I could talk sense into him, snap him out of this trance he was buried under.

Captain Zeeb stood, his eyes darting around the room helplessly. “But s—sir!” he tried to protest.

A swish of movement came and Marius appeared in the corner of my vision, his dark cloak swirling against the leg of a chair. “You will not resist, she is coming with me.”

The voice was so familiar, yet so foreign.

How could he have let himself become such a thing?

Zeeb looked like he was choking on something, being strangled by an invisible force. His eyes darted wildly, terror turning his skin ghostly pale. Then he collapsed down into his chair, tearing his gaze from Marius.

“Yes, lord.”

A gloved hand gripped my upper arm, pulling me away from the pirates, toward Marius.

I forced myself to step forward. He was my brother.

Down inside somewhere there had to be some of the man I knew remaining.

I just had to find it again.

“Marius,” I breathed the word lightly, tilting my head up to see beneath the hood of his cloak. “Marius. You came for me.”

“My Master’s orders must be followed.”

I recoiled at the flat monotone.

What if I was wrong?

Marius turned, his grip on my arm like ice. Every eye in the room was downcast, not daring to risk meeting the Dark filled eyes.

Then the door slipped shut behind us.

He didn’t stop, pulling me along after him as he walked down the shore. His cloak swirled around him in a Dark cloud, reaching out toward me.

Yet it never once touched my skin.

It was almost as if the Dark was afraid.

Not afraid of me, but of something else.

The glow of sunset lit up the west, reluctant to give ground to the night. To the far sides, the bright flame of the watchtowers blinked brighter by the moment, flooding golden across sand.

All of it was harsh contrast to the Dark-drenched figure leading me.

The silence itself almost radiated from him, clamping my jaw shut. I followed, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

This had to work.

He would listen to reason. It would snap him out of it.

I could save him.

Brains are better, after all.

I closed my eyes, wishing I could trust.

But who?

Dark I could only trust to be Dark.

Again, a tinge of something nudged in the back of my mind.

If there was a Dark, surely a Light had to be real as well.

How else could hope exist?

Finally Marius stopped walking, his fingers slipping from my arm.

The low hill of grass overlooked a long beach, the watchtower burners glowing light off the sand like powdered gold.

It would have been beautiful if only...

I turned toward Marius, his back toward me, cloak of Darkness wrapped tight around his shoulders.

I could run. He wouldn’t see until I was too far away.

Perhaps I didn’t have to talk to him after all.

The others were be better at that sort of thing anyway.

“Don’t try to run.” He didn’t even bother to turn.

As he spoke, I realised I couldn’t anyway.

I couldn’t waste this chance, it might be the only one.

“Why did you come for me?” I asked, reaching out toward him without thinking and then dropping my hand to my side again.

“I do what my Master orders.”

“Marius, don’t you remember me? Louise. Your sister. What if he ordered you to hurt me?”

“I do everything my Master orders. He is greater than you could ever realise.”

Pain throbbed in my forehead, this wasn’t working.

“It’s not too late.” I felt desperation seep into my voice. “There’s still hope. You can still be forgiven and make everything right.”

Even as I said the words I wondered.

How many people had he killed?

“There was never hope for me.” The words were harsh, but still he didn’t turn around.

I sank to my knees, feeling grass stalks between my fingers.

What had happened to the brother I thought I knew?

A light glinted on the water just off the shore. A ship.

Hope welled in my heart.

They were coming for me.

Rising to my feet again, I looked at Marius’s straight back, trying to form the words that would save him.

Save him from himself.

“There is always hope,” I began, feeling a strength seeping into my limbs as the words slipped through my lips.

“My Master gives you two choices. To join us. Or to die.” The Dark figure interrupted.

I stopped, the words hesitating on the end of my tongue. “I can’t.”

He didn’t move, his cloak fluttering in a light breeze.

“Marius, I—”

“Kill her...kill her...”

My gut clenched at the hissed words, echoing from all around.

Marius stood like a statue, head cocked, listening.

“You must...kill her...”

A choking sound came from Marius, and his shoulders shuddered violently.

I stepped forward, hand outstretched.

He could resist it.

He would.

There was Light in him still.

A long sword hissed from the scabbard at his side, blade as dark as the sky. Marius turned, throwing his cloak back from his shoulders, the hood slipping down his back.

I froze, looking into the wide eyes.

Wide and angry.

So much anger.

“Marius?” I whispered, taking a step backward.

For a moment he faltered, emotions battling across his features.

“Kill her!”

The Dark wrapped around him tighter, a cold layer of anger and fear closing the barriers of his mind.

I was too late.

“I do everything my Master commands.”

Scrambling backward, I slipped down the sand dune, sprawling on the beach for a moment before lurching to my feet. Marius jumped, the cloak of Darkness flying out behind him as he leapt toward me, landing in a crouch only paces away.

“Please Marius.” My voice was breaking, rasping in my dry throat.

He wouldn’t.

Marius stepped forward smoothly, the sword coming up.

“Marius, remember how in the summer when we would sneak away from the castle and have picnics in the forest? And how you told me the stories of the knights and heroes of old. And you promised to always be there for me, and—” I couldn’t get any more words out past the lump in my throat.

Tears blurred my vision and I took another step backward.

“What happened to you, Marius?”

We had been friends. He’d always tried to get adventure. I’d always tried to keep him out of trouble.

I’d told on him more than once anyway.

What had happened since those days?

I should hate him. For what he let himself become.

I should want him dead, like all those people he had killed.

But I couldn’t want it.

“Marius.” I stopped retreating, sand squeaking unevenly under my shoes. “Think about what you’re about to do Marius. Don’t you know me?”

The sword went back, the Dark blade radiating anger and hopelessness.

I couldn’t let him live knowing that he’d killed me.

At least he should know I understood.

My vision narrowed until all I could see where Marius’s eyes. Sounds faded into the background, pale against the war of torment in those eyes.

Marius, what have you become?

Cold anger clouded over the emotions, Darkening his pale eyes into deep blackness.

“Marius. I forgive you.” I whispered.

The sword plunged forward.

A shadowed figure dived in front of me, just before the sword found my heart.

Time stood still.

Marius jerked his sword back, red blood smeared across the end.

Gypsy Boy wavered for a moment, hands clenched to his stomach.

Then he fell, collapsing into the sand.

He’d saved my life.

He risked everything for me.

What had I ever done for him?

A sword flashed past me and Warin’s familiar figure leapt at Marius.

Marius swept up his sword, knocking Warin’s blow aside. A cloud of Darkness swirled around him, sending Warin stumbling backward.

“Marius!” I heard my own voice calling and I stumbled forward, pushing toward the Darkness.

It hissed a low laugh and pulled away, fading into nothing.

Marius was gone.

My knees collapsed under me and I was sobbing on the sand.

I couldn’t do this.

I had failed.

I had failed everyone.

Eumin, Leonora, Warin, Gypsy Boy, Gripper.

But most of all, I’d failed Marius.

Everything blurred into hopelessness.

Maybe Marius was right.

There was never any hope.

“Louise...Louise please. Listen to me...” Warin’s voice pulled me from the horror of my own thoughts. “Louise.”

I didn’t want to open my eyes.

All I wanted was to give up.

For this to all have been a dream.

A nightmare.

҉

1. “It’s Altin. He wants you, Louise.”

2. I pushed the persistent voice aside, sinking lower into the nothingness of unconscious dreams. Maybe when I woke up this would all be gone.

3. “It’s not over yet. You need to get to the town.”

҉

*hides from the murderous readers* I'M SORRY GUYS OKAY? IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. *runs away in terror*

Fair Winds
(Unless you're sailing down here to make me suffer, in which case-- *starts putting up all the force fields*)

|| Jane Maree ||