And yes, it is 1:14am and I am still awake. I figured if I was going to stay up to write the opening to this novel then I may as well stay up and write today’s blog entry too.
However, its not going to be a crazy long post about how I feel right now, because I can boiled that down into a word; ‘fucking-tired!’ Ok, hyphenating it is cheating but its the truth.
Anyway, the point of this post was to let you know what I’ve written so far. I started at something like 00:16 and I seem to have 1,825 words. It makes me feel better than I haven’t ‘lost’ the nack of spitting words and for now I don’t need to worry if they’re any good. Lol. Still, I am excited enough to share what I’ve written so, before I go to bed; here is a small piece of what I’ve written tonight. And remember, its unedited, untouched, unpolished, just as is! 🙂
The Portal To Elethra The crowd rose as one, a beautiful display of shimmering colours and idyllic shapes in the main hall. Applause filled the space, cut through the rumble of many voices raised in joyous harmony. The King raised his hands. “My friends,” he boomed, “it warms my heart to see you gathered before me as one unified body. Never in my life have I experienced such joy as I have in this moment. And I am overjoyed that I may share it with you, the people of Elethra!” Another cheer went out, followed by the stamping of hundreds of feet and the insectile buzz of a thousand pairs of wings. Some of the observers even sprang into the air, fluttering their wings with a softer beat to make their own pleasure all the more visible. “All hail King Roman!” The cry was almost unanimous. “All hail Queen Melantha! All hail Princess Alyssa and the unity of Elethra!” King Roman chuckled and glanced to his wife, spying the tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He nodded. She smiled. “I had barely hoped this day would come.” She whispered. “And I. But now, Melantha, we have a daughter. A beautiful, enchanting daughter and our kingdom has an heir. We are safe.” Melantha turned out to the crowd, sweeping her hands before her in a gesture that was all grace and stately recognition. “My thanks to you all,” she cried, “and my ever lasting love!” The fae gathered in the main hall became louder still and began to sing in once voice. “Elethra stands, strong and proud. The Fae of Arcadia, we never shall fall. Lead by wisdom and strength and power and grace, we’ll continue our lives as the highest race!” As the song continued Roman stepped off the podium, lifting his wings and flicking them outwards to control his descent down to the ground. He landed lightly, bending his knees to take the impact and crossed smartly to the canopied cradle housed on its own low stage. The soldiers gathered about it stood to attention as he approached, pulling their spears straighter. One or two of them even went so far as to bend to one knee, crossing their right hands across their right knee to expose their tattoos. Roman smiled and pressed his hands to his chest, right over left to be sure his own markings were exposed. “Thank you gentlemen,” he said, “your loyalty and protection is more important now than ever and I personally thank each and every one of you.” The men grinned and shuffled amongst themselves, finally stepping back to form a gap through which their king could step. He did so, advancing on the cradle and the tiny babe tucked therein. “Florian!” He exclaimed. “What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” The young serving boy curled up beneath the cradle looked up with a start. His eyes grew wide as he identified the source of the voice and he scrambled to reach his feet. “Your Majesty!” He bowed low, adolescent wings held back and flat to give him balance as he bent his face almost double to his knees. “I just wanted to see her again. Please, are you angry?” Roman smiled. “Of course not. Why would I be?” He stepped closer, letting one hand fall to rest lightly on the lad’s skinny shoulders. “I’m honoured that you think so much of my daughter.” Florian’s face flushed to the colour of spring roses. “She’s beautiful, Your Majesty. I want to protect her.” “Oh?” Amusement made Roman’s wings hum. “And you think you can do that better than twelve of my finest soldiers?” The lad looked down, twisting the hems of his tunic between his fingers. “No, Your Majesty. I would never….” Roman laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Don’t worry, Florian, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Of course you cannot do more than my soldiers, but I do have a request.” The blush rapidly drained from Florian’s cheeks, taking the rest of his natural colour with it as he paled. He looked up again, blue eyes wild, black tattoos of interlocked circles standing out on his pale face. “Of me, Your Majesty?” His voice trembled. “Yes boy. You and only you, do you understand?” His lips flapped soundlessly. “Good.” Roman pressed on without waiting. “I know you are my hand, Florian, but I really have no need of an aide. Not to say that your service is not of use, because it is, but there is someone I feel could use your expertise, love and care far more than I.” He raised his eyebrow in question and glanced meaningfully down into the cradle. Florian took a step back, his thin, under developed body trembling like a leaf in the wind. “Me, Your Majesty? Really?” “I can think of no better candidate.” The boy looked into the cradle, his features softening as he gazed at the babe within. Then with a tiny, decisive nod, he dropped down to his knees and lowered his head, hands pressed to the floor palm down.
More to come as the story goes on. Wooooooooo!