Nov. 10, 2008 - A Random Part of my NaNoWriMo story that I felt like posting
Ladies and gents, I am officially NOT going to get 50,000 words this month. It is a sad realization, but I am just too busy this month, I haven't been feeling too good, and it's not going to happen. But, it has been fun trying and no matter how many words I get, I can still enjoy them and be glad that I did them. Can I do it? No. I cannot. But I will meet it in battle nonetheless. I'm still going at it, I just know my own abilities:)
BUT I am having fun with my story! Here's a random part I post here, don't take my stuff without my permission, blahblahblah.
Hey, here's the link to my totally cool playlist: http://view.playlist.com/11080693771/standalone
It's quite neat, listen to "Waters of Irrawaddy" (close to the middle) while Domev's in the forest, then the next one, "The Gravel Road" when he finds the tree with the name!
When there was nothing left to see of Sephas, Domevlo sat with his back against a large tree. Surely, surely his power could be used for good, and not evil. But what was he to do with his power anyway? He had been sitting so still that a rabbit jumped out in front of him. Domevlo decided this would be a good time to test his Magic. He willed the rabbit to come to him, and reached out an inviting hand. The rabbit continued to sniff around in the dry leaves. Domevlo took a deep breath and reached deep inside himself. He tried to feel the magic within him, and then reach out to the rabbit. The animal did not come – it was lifted off the ground, then sent scampering into the forest, more frightened than it had ever been in its life. Domev sighed and leaned back against the tree, running a hand through his dark, tangly hair. It suddenly occurred to him that he would need shelter if he were to stay here; and he got up and walked deeper into the forest, exploring his surroundings. The forest was not as he had always imagined it – tangly, dense, thorny, and thick with pests and poisonous plants. There were various paths and trails leading into separate parts of the wood where the trees and vines stayed away. The colored leaves blanketed the ground lovingly, and they made soft comforting crunching sounds as he walked through them. The fading afternoon light shone through the trees, and the small sound of the creeks filled the silence. Domevlo wondered why he had ever thought this place was ugly – then wondered why he should have thought it otherwise. He stopped walking. No one – not even Sephas – had ever been this deep into the forest before. What were the paths doing here? He knelt to his knees, cleared the leaves away and looked at the dirt. Yes, it had clearly been made on purpose, but unmistakably long ago.
A bird suddenly flew through the bushes, sounding loud in the quiet and startling Domevlo. He looked toward the sound at a large, ancient oak tree with vines tangling around it. There appeared to be some sort of marking on the tree, and Domev stood to his feet and walked slowly closer. He pulled the reluctant vines away from the tree, and saw that indeed, someone had scratched a name into its wood. After pulling more leaves away and rubbing at the bark a bit, he could make out the word, Jaya. There was more, but it had faded and he could not read it. But suddenly he felt… sad. He did not know why. There was sorrow in this word – this name. He ran a finger over the letters. There had to be some way to find out what the rest of this writing said. Maybe he would come back after he had learned more of his powers. He had to move on a build a shelter.
Domev had not wandered far before he stubbed his toe on something hidden in the leaves. Frowning, he knelt down and brushed the leaves aside. There was something partially buried there… it looked like an old shovel or something – mostly decayed. Overcome by a sense of curiosity just being in this place, he used his hands to dig at the moist dirt scratching it away to reveal the hilt of a sword. It was at least a century old, Domevlo was sure. He scooped at the soil, exposing not just a hilt, but a whole sheathed blade – very old, and very fragile. He very carefully, so as not to make the sheath crumble, placed a hand on the hilt and drew the sword. It was rusty and cracked, but there was some sort of writing on it. Domevlo brushed and scratched at the rust and dirt until he could see the word, “Tentalestah”.
The word made his heart beat faster, for just a moment. He had to say it aloud. “Tentalestah.”
The sun shined brighter at the sound of his voice, and a gusty wind began to blow. The sword began to tremble, and Domevlo dropped it as if his hands were burnt. There was something very strange about this place. When Domev looked back at the sword, he gasped. The rust began to disappear, and the blade glowed more brightly than any sword he had ever seen. But that was not what astonished him most. The nearest tree to the sword wrapped its roots around the blade and held it out to Domevlo. It was several minutes before he reached forward to take it, and when he did, the tree lowered its roots back into the ground. There was no doubt about it now – this forest was alive. Domevlo did not know why he was not frightened. He gazed at the sword in his hands – long, sleek, elegant, and shining as if it was brand new. He turned it over and studied the writing on it. There were small engravings all over the handle, but Domev did not know what they meant. When he got to the guard of the sword he saw a word he recognized quite well… “Domevlo”.
His mouth opened in awe. What could this mean? He looked up at the forest. It sat silently in calm assurance. It knew! It knew what this sword was! Domevlo was certain! “What is this?” He shouted into the silence. “What is going on? Who was here that left this sword? Why am I here?”
There was no answer. Domevlo felt another tear run down his cheek. Who had been there? The sword, Tentalestah, continued to shine in his hands. It seemed to invite him into his unknown destiny – or more accurately, force him into his unknown destiny. Domev’s eyes narrowed. What this sword had to offer - this destiny - he was not sure he wanted to have in his life. He threw the sword back at the tree and ran on further into the forest, putting as much distance between himself and Tentalestah as he could. When he dared look back, the tree was again hiding the sword in its rooty clutches.
So there's the junkityjunk. I am having fun TRYING NaNo. But it ain't gonna happen. Not this year anyway.
Here's the cover art I made for this story. Rough, but I like it for now.
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