Sorry About Slowing Down

Here's the beginning of chapter 9 of the still unnamed Tengarra Story, sorry I haven't posted it sooner for those people who do choose to read my writing.

Chapter 9 Part 1

In Which the Fourth Piece is Accounted For

           

The gates at Lord Death’s northernmost temple were known for never having been closed. The priests and acolytes were known for never denying entrance to a person in need of shelter or healing, no matter their species. It was the only place where the war between the species was said to not be fought. That was untrue, of course. The war may not have been a physical presence on those in the temple, but since actual fighting had broken out no watu had attempted to enter the temple, and the permanent residents of the temple grounds had their own opinions of the watu and the war.

            

Cain had pulled out the sash of the high priest and donned it once more over his simple grey robes. As they rode their horses through the gates into the wide courtyard of Lord Death’s main temple a somber bell was rung to call the priests into their nightly prayers. As the temple’s residents hurried out of buildings toward the sanctuary for the dusk service they noticed the party’s entrance and two people hurried over to help.

           

Bowing low in front of Cain’s horse one of the brown robed apprentices said, “My Lord High Priest, I’m afraid that our own High Priest Michel is leading the service tonight and will be unavailable to speak with you until after his duties for the gods are done.”

            

Cain dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to the acolyte. We’ll be staying for a while so we’ll need rooms, and the girl is injured so you’ll have to have somebody show her and the boy where the infirmary is.”

            

The acolyte nodded, “Yes of course, Lord Priest.” He turned and snapped out some orders to the waiting initiate girl while handing her the reins of Cain’s horse. By this time the others had dismounted. The initiate girl was a tiny slip of a thing, swimming in her brown robes. She did not look at all cowed by the older acolyte. She moved to take the reins of the other horses and headed toward the stables, not even looking twice at Shula’s dress covered in dried blood. The acolyte turned toward Cain once more, “My Lord High Priest, if you would care to follow me, I can show you to where you can wait comfortably until the High Priest Michel is…”

            

Cain interrupted him. “I’ve been here before I know my way around. Get the girl to the damn infirmary then get some food for the rest of us sent to the snow hare room.” The acolyte did not look happy to be interrupted or told off like that by someone younger than he was himself, but in a place like this the high priest was the highest form of command, save for the gods themselves. Even the king was beneath the high priests in the chain of command when inside the temple grounds.

            

Gesturing imperiously for Seok and Shula to follow him, the man headed toward a long, low building connected directly to the temple’s northern most wall. They walked past the main hall where the sanctuary was and the shrine to Lord Death would be housed, as well as the hall where the treasures of the temple would be kept. Shula’s walk was unsteady, dizzy. Seok kept a hand on her arm to support her should she fall. He had tried to put her arm around his shoulder so he could take her weight without actually carrying her, but she had shoved him away.

            

The young man picked up a lamp from a stand beside the door to the infirmary and lit it with the flint that sat beside it. “I doubt there will be a doctor on duty during the ceremony, but you’ll get a dedicated to look at whatever’s wrong with her at least,” the acolyte told them.

            

“Regular cock rooster isn’t he?” Shula muttered to Seok in the language of the gods. The different tongue caught the attention of the acolyte, who had yet to so much as look at the people he was leading. In the light provided by the lamp he held he could see Shula’s blood covered condition, as well as the shocking orange of her hair. His eyes widened, then he turned abruptly back toward the building. Slipping off his sandals befire he crossed through the doorway. “This way. Take off your shoes.” His voice was clipped and he walked stiffly, placing his sock covered feet down with enough force that they made a solid thud against the wooden floor with each step.

            

Seok squatted down to untie his boot lacings and Shula flopped onto the ground next to him, careful not to use her injured hand to catch herself. “I feel like shit,” she mumbled, still using the language of the gods, she had not spoken a word of the human’s tongue that day. “You unite my boots for me. I’ve only got one hand.”

            

“Are you still cold?” Seok asked her, choosing not to comment on the command she had given, only starting on her shoes when he had finished untying his own.

            

“My left hand feels numb, it’s so cold. What the hell was on that arrow?”

            

“Left? It was the right that got hit.” Seok’s voice was concerned. “Do you think it had poison on it?”

            

“I should have let you beat the bastard that shot me to death instead of making you stop.” Shula’s head fell forward and she groaned, “It hurts...”

            

The acolyte leading them had stopped, and was waiting impatiently in the hall. Seok pulled Shula to her feet by her good hand, which did not feel at all cold, but rather too warm against his healthy skin. Leading her by the hand, Seok followed the acolyte down the hallway. They passed two doors before the man stopped. He paused to knock softly on the door before sliding it open to reveal a well lit room with an old woman wearing the white shirt and loose crimson split skirt of temple dedicates under a blue apron kneeling before the low writing desk placed in the far corner of the room.

            

The woman stood as Seok entered, pulling Shula behind him. “Oh, my,” she murmured with only one glance at Shula. “Sit her down in that chair there, young man, and tell me what happened,” the grey haired woman commanded Seok.

            

“Healer,” the acolyte’s stiff voice said from outside the door. He had not entered the room. “That girl, she’s...”

            

“I can see she’s got watu hair just fine for myself, acolyte,” the woman snapped. She knew as well as anyone living near the border that the easiest way to tell a human from a watu was their hair. Humans only had black ranging to brown hair. Watu hair came in all shades of red and orange. “Lord Death does not take sides in the war, and neither should one who professes to follow him.” She lifted Shula’s bandaged hand and pursed her lips as the girl flinched at the pain caused by the movement. Without looking away from Shula’s wrist as she began to unwrap the bandage she said. “Return to your duties acolyte.”

            

When he had slid the door closed the old woman addressed Seok, “Do you speak the common tongue boy or are you watu as well?”

            

“I’m not a watu,” he answered, “but I speak any language you want to talk to me in.”

            

The woman nodded. “Take that bucket by the door and go get some water from the well behind this building. She’s got a high fever and will need cooling down.”

            

“Is it from the hole in her arm?” Seok asked.

            

“That’s a nice thing to call it,” Shula muttered, looking down at the brown stains on the bandage the old woman was trying to pluck away from the wound. The blood had dried to the linen and Shula flinched when the cloth pulled at the wound. Her flinch pulled the bandage off the wound the rest of the way, taking with it the scab that had covered the hole. As soon as she had pulled away, Shula’s wrist started bleeding again.

            

“Hold still!” the woman admonished. “If you speak the watu language, boy, tell her to hold still or I could end up hurting her, then get going and fetch that water!”

            

“She understands you fine, the fever’s just confusing her so she hasn’t been speaking the human language since this morning.” Seok grabbed the bucket and hurried out the door. When he came back the woman had Shula laying down on a bed in the corner of the room and was pressing a poultice of some kind of herbs onto the girl’s wrist. Shula was biting the base of her left hand thumb in order not to scream at the pain in her wrist at the hands of the old woman, blood coated her lips where they met skin and she could not stop the moan when the woman shifter her grip to wrap a new bandage around Shula’s arm.

            

The woman looked up from her ministrations when she finished tying the bandage and commented on the new wounds on Shula’s other hand. Gesturing for Seok to come over, she dipped out a bowl of the water Seok had just brought in and handed him a dry rag and told him to keep it cool and bathe Shula’s forehead with it. “If the fever was from infection in the wound then I would probably have to take her arm off. It’s a nasty looking thing, and she’s luck she can still move her hand and fingers, but it’s not at all infected. The fever can’t be from anything except for poison,” she explained to Seok when he asked.

First After NaNo Post!

Well, as you can see from the edited header here, I managed to write those last 8,000 words on the 30th! How the hell did I do that? I would really like to know myself!

Chapter 8 End

In Which a Life is Threatened

When morning arrived, Larkin’s horse still had not. Shula still lay wrapped in Zija’s bed roll and with the men standing watch in turns during the night, only one had to make do without even the small comfort the padded blanket provided. She slept through Larkin checking her wrist, and explaining to a concerned Seok that he did not know if it would get infected as he did not know what newly infected wounds looked like, as well as the men breaking camp and tying their bags back onto the saddles.

            

Larkin, though he was no doctor, could recognize a fever. When he had picked up Shula’s wounded wrist that morning her skin had felt as if it were on fire. Putting the back of his hand to her forehead, he felt for her temperature there too. It was cooler than her wrist, making his concern about Cain’s suggestion of poison and Seok’s questions about infection grow. He knew that the flesh near a festering wound was fevered, but poison could do the same thing and either would also give the victim a fever as their body tried to fight the affront to its system.

            

The group had only three horses for five people plus the bags they carried. Zija and Cain stood talking about their route, and how the trek would take longer now that the horses would be carrying two people each. Seok joined the conversation, adding, “Shula needs a real doctor. No offence to Larkin or anything, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing any more than I would. I’ve never seen her sick in my life, any more than I can remember being sick.”

            

“How long have you known her exactly?” Zija asked.

            

“Didn’t you know? That kiss back in the shelter on the mountain was because I remembered that I knew her from before.” Seok shook Shula’s shoulder to wake her.

            

“Ok, you’ve been with Cain for four years. So that makes you what; you guys grew up together or something? Shit!” Zija glanced at Cain who rubbed his fingers together, pantomiming holding money. “Who the hell would randomly go kissing their childhood friends like that?”

            

Shula, now awake and climbing to her feet with her wounded wrist clutched against the blood soaked fabric at her waist put a smirk on over her grimace of pain. “If that’s all that confusing this’ll really throw you off. We’re engaged, Red.”

            

That got everyone’s attention. Zija gaped, swiveling his head to look between the two of them. Cain’s eyebrows rose in speculation, disappearing behind his shaggy blond bangs. Larkin, who had been rolling up the bedroll Shula had just vacated, had stopped to stare, much like Zija, while Seok pretended not to have heard. Zija managed to close his mouth long enough to comment, “When did you get engaged, when you were five?”

            

Shula smiled, “It’s not that odd for children to get engaged is it?”

            

“Now I really wanna know what’s going on here! Your families get you two engaged, and then the brat loses his memory, then who tied him up in that cave?”

            

“Our families didn’t plan it, we decided. If the Bitch had known she’d have had our asses chained up sooner than they were.” Shula’s words contained all the malice she felt for the woman who she termed the bitch, but they were given in a voice that carried none of the energy or fight that Shula usually showed. Her voice was tired.

            

“Priti knew,” Seok said. “He probably did tell her.”

            

“That stick in the mud?” Shula squinted from a ray sunlight that had just crested the trees. “He’s so formal and polite all the time, why would he have anything to do with her?”

            

“You forgot his other name didn’t you? Kama?” Cain watched this continued conversation carefully, though both Larkin and Zija had lost interest. The names Shula and Seok were using were actually words in the language of the gods. Priti meant affection and kama meant lust. He tried to remember why those words sounded familiar, not just as vocabulary, but as if it was something he had read then forgotten until now.

            

“You’re too stubborn to argue with and I don’t have the energy when it’s this cold,” Shula snapped at Seok, who had continued to describe the characteristics of the man who had known about their engagement. Seok reached out and grabbed Shula’s arm. It was radiating heat under his touch. “It’s not cold, you’re sick.”

            

“Whatever,” she replied, “Let’s just get going. I’m tired of standing here doing nothing.” She leaned back on Seok, looking as if she would collapse right there.

            

Because the weight of the riders had to be distributed evenly, Larkin ended up riding on Zija’s horse, because his gelding was the largest and strongest of their mounts. Cain got most of their bags behind and in front of his saddle, and Shula and Seok were to ride together like before, with Shula in the front this time. She was dizzy and reeling where she stood with feet solidly planted on the ground, and  Seok and Larkin both worried that she would fall out of the saddle if Seok did not have his arms firmly around her waist.

            

The party set off, looking rather woebegone riding double and with all their belongings tied to one saddle. Shula said little throughout the day, only complaining once of her arm hurting when the horse stumbled in a hole some animal had dug in the path. Several times she complained of the cold, asking Seok piteously for a blanket, until he broke down and wrapped her in another layer of the scarves she had used when crossing over the mountain. Holding her close, he worried about just how hot her body had become. This kind of heat was just not natural.

            

A sudden thought came to him and he dug Shula’s wounded arm out from among her wrappings. She protested the movement, but did not jerk her hand out of his grip for fear of hurting herself further. Shula whimpered as the young man held her arm up to look at the bandages. Her bracelet had been pushed back almost to her elbow to keep it out of the way of the bandages. Seok pursed his lips while looking at it. This was not good. Whether she wanted it or not, he was going to tell Cain what was really going on. He could not risk Shula dying because of something like that.

            

The group unanimously decided to continue on while dusk approached. At the rate they were going they would reach Lord Death’s Temple within two hours, and they were all looking forward to getting there and having a decent meal, a roof over their heads, and even one of the temple’s cushioned mattresses that they laid on the floor in place of beds seemed better than another night on the ground like the last four they had spent. Shula had fallen asleep, leaning against Seok’s chest when by the time they reached the high outer walls of the temple.

NaNo 2013 Day 29

One day left!!! (Also happy Thanksgiving, one day late!) My WC is now almost 45,000, so I'm typing away madly at the same time as trying to cook Thanksgiving food and organize all the last minute RSVPs to my pot-luk dinner that starts in an hour. Most of the people who are coming aren't American and haven't ever heard the word pot-luc before I used it to invite them about two weeks ago. Why can't people ever commit to things ahead of time? *sigh ~ goes back to typing away madly*

NaNo 2013 Day 28

Almost done! I'm 60 words away from 44,000, so I have exactly 6,060 words to write by midnight tomorrow! Ugh, right?

Here's the next part of you guys!

Chapter 8

In Which a Life is Threatened

            

As afternoon began to fade to evening the group followed the path into a valley at the bottom of the mountain. The ride down Taka Mountain pass had been considerably shorter than the ride up, not only because the altitude of the land was higher north  of Taka Mountain and the Twins but also because the pass through the crags, while seeming flat, actually sloped downward enough to change the distance when climbing back down on the other side.

            

The path through followed a long dry riverbed through the valley. Trees with leaves turning to shades of yellow and red crowded close around the shallow banks of the river gravel path. Larkin and Zija, still riding in the front of the group, chatted about finding a place to set up camp for the night as they would not arrive at the temple until the next evening. Seok and Shula rode behind, whispering plots in their newly discovered language while Cain trailed some distance behind the rest of his companions, lost in thought.

            

Shula sighed and stretched, supporting herself with open palms placed on the horse’s withers she leaned back and complained, “When do we get to stop for the night? I’ve gotta pee.” A sudden noise in the trees beside them made Shula sit up. Swinging her legs for balance she accidently kicked the horse which sidestepped in irritation. That random movement saved Seok’s life as the crossbow bolt that would have lodged itself in his side instead stabbed though Shula’s wrist.

            

Shula screeched as the barb shot through her arm and stopped, protruding out the other side. The horse spooked at the sound and threw her off as three more bolts came flying out of the tree cover on the group’s left toward Larkin, Zija, and Cain. Warned by Shula’s scream when the early shot had landed, they were able to avoid being hit, but just barely. Larkin’s sorrel mare took the bolt that was meant for Zija in the thick muscle of her shoulder as it flew wide around him. She reared and threw Larkin off her back before running in panic down the path away from her companions.

            

Cain and Zija fared better than Larkin, the crossbow bolts flying wide as they urged their horses to move. The two still mounted steered their horses up the right bank of the road into the trees to avoid further attacks, but Seok had jumped off his brown to make sure Shula was alright. Alarmed by her scream, he had not really noticed the other attacks, but despite her wound, Shula had noticed and rolled to her feet as quickly as she could to make for the trees. Seok followed, leaving his horse standing in the path of the four watu that jumped from their cover passed her to chase after their quarry.

            

Larkin and Cain abandoned their horses as soon as they got into the trees. They grew too close and it would be easy to be caught on horseback with no place to run or way to defend yourself. Zija was at a disadvantage anyway, as his quarterstaff was a weapon best used in an open space. To add to that handicap there was an extra six inches of wood added to the length, tied on to the rest of the weapon by a leather strap. Beneath the wooden sheath at the end of his staff was actually a five inch blade. He rarely used the blade, as it was sharp enough to be deadly, but had to be wielded carefully because it was not as thick and sturdy as a spear.

            

As spread out as the companions were, the true targets of the watu attack quickly became clear. The watu paired off; two heading toward where Larkin had dashed into the trees and two to where Cain had abandoned his horse at the edge of the tree cover. The ill-tempered animal, already unhappy about the sudden ruckus, kicked at the watu as they passed behind her. Seok saw the horse’s hoof miss the watu as they chased after Cain into the forest. Shula followed close on his heels as he trailed the loai that were after Cain.

            

The other pair of watu had found Larkin and drawn their short swords. They were beautiful weapons, slightly curved, only one side sharpened, with waving temper lines running down the length of the blades. To the watu, a stocky, heavily muscled race, Larkin, a tall and reed thin man with no weapons seemed like an easy target. “Did this guy really kill five hundred of us?” one watu asked the other. They had split up and were moving toward Larkin from opposite sides. The second watu, snorted to show how ridiculous he thought that was.

            

“Can’t’ve can he? But the shit faced emperor thinks he did, and we’ll get a pretty penny when we hand his ass in.”

            

Larkin could not understand the watu language, as he had never been predisposed to studying languages, despite his other scholarly pursuits. He could hear the scorn in their voices though, and he smiled at the thought of giving them a lesson on judging a person by his appearance. The watu held their swords ready to attack, but Larkin moved first. Shooting toward one of them he disarmed the watu with a clever maneuver where he blocked the dull edge of the sword with one hand and struck the wrist of the watu that was holding the weapon.

            

With the sharp snap of breaking bone and a strangled scream Larkin considered this opponent defeated and turned toward the next one that he could hear approaching. Just as he turned there was a flash of crimson in his peripheral vision and a dull thud as Zija smacked the other watu in the temple with the end of his staff. The watu fell like a rock, instantly unconscious. Zija glanced at Larkin and then at the watu at his own feet. “Don’t think I killed him do you?” he asked.

            

“If his skull resembles yours as much as his hair does then he’ll wake up before too long.” Larkin turned back to the watu with the broken wrist. He had managed to stand again and looked like he was ready for the fight to continue. Larkin hooked his foot around the watu’s ankle and pulled his foot out from under him.  Slipping off a small silver ring he wore on his pinkie, Larkin bent down toward the watu who was whimpering now after having fallen on his broken wrist. Larkin placed his thumb in the middle of the watu’s forehead and the watu’s eyes rolled back in his head. After a moment, he too fell unconscious.

            

“That chi thing you do is creepy as hell you know?”

            

“You’ve told me before,” Larkin answered. “Let’s go see if the others are doing alright. I haven’t heard Cain’s gun go off yet so they’re probably all still alive at least.” He started walking back toward the path with Zija following.

            

“We were lucky you know. If one of the dumb asses hadn’t shot early we’d all be dead.”

            

“Yeah, but I didn’t see where Shula got hit. She may be dead already.”

            

Zija made a face, “Well if she’s dead or dying, you can be sure that the watu who went after Cain are gonna be dead too. Seok’s over there with him.”

            

In fact what had happened with Cain and the two watu who were chasing him was the watu had noticed Seok and Shula following them through the forest. The older watu looked to his junior, no older in appearance than Seok or Shula, “You take care of the kids. I don’t need them in the way if the priest there pulls some kind of temple magic on me.”

            

The younger watu was only too happy to oblige. He was already going to be in trouble about shooting too early, and with how nervous about attacking a high priest he would probably be in more trouble or dead by the time night fell. Attacking a priest just did not sit well with him, and this human was not just any priest either. He had to be protected by the gods, and the watu boy had always had a hearty fear of the gods since he was a boy and lightening had struck his neighbor when he had called a pox on the god of harvest for their bad crop that year.

            

The young watu had drawn his sword and turned around to face the human youths but when he got his first good look at Shula his heart gave a strange lurch. That mass of curly orange hair was enchanting, and such a beautiful face. He knew it was love at first sight, whether the girl was human or not. Then he noticed the words etched  on the bracelets she wore at her wrists and the bolt from his crossbow still stuck through the pale slender flesh and felt such remorse for his actions that he was almost moved to sheath his short sword. 

NaNo 2013 Day 27

Fallen slightly behind on the word count again. I have the rest of today and until about 10 till midnight on the 30th to write about 9,000 words. That's just over 2000 per day if I wanna finish with some time to spare. The story won't be done in 9000 words though, rest assured, there is a lot more in store for my readers, especially since I'm typing on chapter 10 and posting the last part of chapter 7 today.

NaNo 2013 Day 22

*Sigh* Well I was lazy yesterday and didn't do any writing. I have a fairly sound excuse that I was reading a book I have to finish for my lit paper, but it really boils down to the fact that I just didn't want to write. my WC right now is 35,456, and I've already put out about 1600 words today. I only need another 1600 or so to be up to the projected average.

NaNo 2013 Day 19

My current WC 31,060. Awesome right? I need a few hundred more to make today's goal, but it'll be a piece of cake. More writing that needs done though. I have a 12 page essay on Shinto in modern Western fictional literature due on the 8th of December. My first draft was supposed to be handed in yesterday by 5pm. I have only a title page and introduction written. Wish I could hand in the first chapter of my novel instead. That's 10 pages without the double spacing, and probably more interesting anyway.

Anyway, here you go, next installment. Romance fans you may enjoy this one...

Chapter 7 Part 1

In Which Conversations are Overheard and a Life Rekindled

            

Seok shifted in his sleep, the sound of voices slowly breaking their way into his consciousness. At first the words he heard were too slurred by his waking mind to be understood clearly, but slowly as he awoke, the words became clearer. It was Cain and Shula talking that had awakened him, he realized, even before he could tell what they were saying. He still was not sure why her voice stirred him like it did. Whenever she spoke, it was like his attention fixed immediately on her. It was almost the same, only slightly different from how he had been attached to Cain for the first few months after he had been found. Then it had been a kind of pathetic gratefulness that had caused the devotion, now, with Shula, the whole situation was different. The woman was special, but he did not know why, and he still, after a day and two nights spent with her could not shake the feeling that he had known her somewhere else.

            

“They are seals, what I want to know is what relation do they have to Seok’s seal?”

            

“Ah, now there’s a real stumper. I how did you guess my bracelets were seals anyway?” Seok listened closer to the words the two were saying, his name alerting him to his own presence in the other’s conversation. Some instinctive curiosity kept him still, or perhaps he was still too immured in sleep for his body to move if he told it to, but he listened as the conversation progressed, with only a single thought in his mind, “My seal?”

            

Cain asked Shula about her bracelets, describing them well enough that, though Seok had never taken any notice of Shula’s bracelets before, he could picture them in his mind as clearly as if he had seen them being made. It was when Cain said, “I’ve done extensive research on seals and how they’re made. Seok’s doesn’t have a maker’s mark, and from what I’ve seen of yours they’re similar enough that they could have been made by the same person,” that Seok realized what exactly the priest was implying.

            

He almost moved to touch his headband, when the sudden realization came. The headband that he never thought about, almost as if his mind were tricked into forgetting it, even after people commented on his never taking it off, was a seal? Questions came flooding into his mind. Did the seal mean he was a watu? If Shula’s bracelets really were seals that were made by the same person as his headband, then he had known her before? Older questions that he had asked himself before mixed themselves with this new revelation. Had he lost all of his memories before being chained in that cave because of the seal? Why had he been sealed in the first place?

            

Shula and Cain’s conversation continued in the background, though Seok was no longer listening to them. They had stopped talking about him, and even if they had continued on that same subject, his mind was so concerned with the simple fact that he had been wearing a seal for four years without knowing it that he would not have been listening anyway. When the conversation ended with Shula settling down in her cloth next to his bedroll, he lay still, now fully awake, and very aware of the wakefulness of the other two in the small room. Zija emitted a small snore in his sleep and Seok heard Shula’s breath settle into a steady rhythm and then deepen as she fell asleep as well. Finally, he heard a papery rustling that he recognized as Cain’s robes as he took off and folded his sash to prepare for sleep. Seok’s mind continued in circles, asking the same questions again and again until he too followed the others in the room into sleep.

            

Morning dawned bright and clear, the snowstorm from the night before finished, though the wind still blew icy needles through the clothes of the five travelers. Almost as soon as they had cleaned up and set out, Shula fell into a brooding silence that Seok assumed was because of the cold, as it had been the day before. He wanted to ask her about what she had said to Cain last night about his seal, but in a strange turn of events could not think of what to say.

            

His hand reached up to rub the chain, as cold as ice from the frigid wind blowing in their faces. He pulled at it, but it seemed locked onto his scalp, tangled so badly in his hair that he winced. When he ran a finger underneath it though he found there was no hair impeding his fingers at all, after all, how many times had he had to shove his hair up underneath it to keep his lanky brown bangs out of his face? It was definitely something supernatural, and the more he thought about having worn it for so long, the more uncomfortable he felt.

            

Shula had locked her arms around his stomach as she had done the day before, hiding he face from the harsh wind blowing through the pass. They had entered the pass as soon as they left the shelter. It was a narrow thing, only wide enough for one horse to pass at a time. The wall of the mountain shot up in a sheer cliff on the group’s right side and started out steep on the left until about the height of the horses’ ears then the slope gentled into something that would be easy enough to climb when it was not covered with snow or ice. The wind that normally whipped around the side of the mountain was bottled up and concentrated down this smooth tunnel. Even the horses kept their heads low and laid their ears back flat to let their masters know just how unhappy they were at being made to fight the mountain’s breath.

            

The group took heart that at the end of the day that this hellish ride over the mountain would be nearly finished. One thing they were all thankful for was that the wind did provide them a clear path. The snow from the previous night that had drifted high against the walls of the shelter was swept from the path the horses had to travel. Between the wind, the horses trudging forward in single file and Seok and Shula bringing up the rear, there was no speaking between the riders the whole day.

            

At one point near the middle of the day Shula let go of Seok, leaving the only warm spot on the front half of his body vulnerable to the attack of the fiendish wind. She reached back around him with one of her scarves and wrapped it around his neck and the bottom half of his face. Seok could feel the heat and scent of her body still clinging to the fabric. She wrapped the scarf all the way around her shoulders and tucked the end under the collar on Seok’s cloak, effectively tying the two of the together. Settling her head back into its place on his shoulder Seok could not help but wonder if that surprisingly intimate moment had been to help keep him warm or if it had been to create a better wind block for herself.

            

Their ride was finally over for the day when the pass started going downhill and widened out. Another hour and the group was back among the trees. The trees had blocked the wind here so the snow had piled up inches deep on the path. Another few minutes led them to the next shelter house. The sigh of relief Shula let out on seeing the building was audible. While the men began unsaddling their horses next to the connected lean-to, Shula headed directly toward the door to the small building. Only to come back out cursing when she saw there was no convenient stack of firewood inside next to the fire pit in the floor.

            

She tramped through the snow, kicking it out of her way with mutters of “Damn, freezing ass snow, those two freaks can just go die; throwing this shitty ass crap down here.” She bent down and picked up a pine branch that she had kicked the snow off of. Stepping on one end Shula grabbed the other and bent it upward until it broke with a sharp crack into two manageable pieces.

            

Looking up toward the sky, as if to beseech the gods she yelled, “Who the hell’s bright ass idea was snow anyway, huh? ‘It’ll look so pretty on the top of Bhumi’s mountains’ my ass! It’s hella pretty now Niru!” She turned back to the shelter house with the few sticks she had gathered. “Freaking, freezing ass snow!”

            

Zija laughed as he walked past her to look for deadfall for the fire too. “It’s not that bad,” he taunted. “We could have been a few more days late then you could have seen real snow!” He had spent several years north of the watu border where the winters were long and harsh as a rule. Though he agreed that the mountain was unpleasant, he knew it would be impossible to cross this pass in a week’s time thanks to the snow piling up.

            

Shula dropped her wood into the fire pit and went out to find more, hopefully smaller sticks that would catch fire without too much trouble. Seok dug through the snow at the bottom of one of the trees and pulled up handfuls of only slightly damp pine needles. He took them inside to Larkin while Zija came back with a whole armload of sticks and branches that would burn. He was by no account a survivalist and would probably die if left in a forest alone, but the man did know how to find firewood under a pile of snow.

            

“Gee, look, Red’s actually useful for something,” Shula said sarcastically as he tramped through the snow past her a second time.

            

“You sure talk a lot for someone who’s doing nothing,” he said, looking at the few sticks she held in her hands. Zija continued into the trees and they both looked for useable wood while Seok and Cain rubbed down the horses and Larkin tried to start a fire in the damp pine needle kindling. Zija walked past Shula again, heading back toward the shelter with a faggot of sticks held under each arm. He raised his eyebrows at her, gloating, as he passed. “Shitty, red head, show off bastard,” Shula muttered at him, kicking aside more snow with her heavy boots to find the sticks she needed for the fire.

            

Seok and Cain had finished with the horses and were squatting, warming their hands over the fire when Zija came in, stomping the snow from his boots. He dumped his wood next to the fire pit and flopped down on the floor to copy the other two, rubbing warmth back into his fingers. Larkin unpacked the group’s only cooking pan and pushed Seok away from the fire so he could start cooking something he called stew for the group’s dinner. The dried meat he put in the pan with the melted snow would have to boil for about twenty minutes before it became something not resembling jerky.

            

Seok leaned against the wall and stared off into space, still thinking about the news of his headband being a seal. He had thought about the time that Shula had asked him if he remembered someone more than once that day. Just as he was convincing himself that he had actually known her before he lost his memories she burst into the room.

           

Shula glared at Zija and dropped her pile of deadfall branches and sticks on top of his. It looked like the group might now have enough to keep the fire lit for the whole night. Shula unwound herself from her scarves, tossing them carelessly on the floor in front of her. “Benki,” Seok whispered from where he stood against the wall. Shula froze, her eyes wide and mouth hanging partially open.

            

The whispered word got a similar, if less noticeable, surprised reaction from Cain; though it was not seen by the other two men who were watching Shula suddenly throw herself across the room and into Seok’s arms. She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and arms around his neck as she kissed him. A long, deep kiss, where Seok’s arms slowly wrapped themselves around Shula’s body to support her and hold her closer to his own.

NaNo 2013 Day 14

Current WC 22,833. WC needed at end of day 23,333.

Nothing much to comment on today except for how incredibly lazy I feel. I haven't gotten up yet and started washing dishes, which probably accounts for the 500 or so words I've written so far today.

Chapter 6 Part 1

In Which a Night is Spent in Question

           

Shula made up her mind then, as she stood over Cain’s sleeping body, and stepped back over the sleeping bodies of the men to get to her place in front of the fire. Staring into the flames she sighed. It was so cold outside, and this shelter was not as well sealed as it should be. Such a small fire did only slightly more to warm her than the accumulated body heat from the five people staying in the cramped space. She warmed her hands above the fire, rubbed them together to keep the heat that felt like nothing short of life itself to her inside, and added another few sticks to the pile. With that finished Shula pushed herself out of her melancholy mood and lay down to sleep.

            

The next morning snow lay two inches deep on the ground and drifted into piles of over a foot in random places along the steep upward path. Shula had once again bundled herself up in yards of scarves and shawls, topped with her heavy brown wool cloak. She helped Larkin clean up the group’s dishes, though they were only a travel sized pan and several light weight wooden spoons, in return for the breakfast they had shared with her, and prepared to leave with the men.

           

Larkin stood holding the reins of his small sorrel mare. His lanky height made him look too big for the animal when he rode her, but she was a good looking animal who was clearly well taken care of. “What are we gonna do with her?” He asked Cain, indicating Shula, with a tip of his head.

            

Shula, who had just come out of the shelter heard the question and answered with a simple, “I’ll keep up.” Her eyes dared him to say she would not be able to, but Zija could only see the back of her head, today covered with a yellow scarf, with her hair sticking out at the bottom of it. “You’re gonna run behind the horses, in the snow, wearing 20 pounds of blankets, uphill, carrying that giant backpack of yours, for the whole day?” he asked, the sarcasm clear in his words.

            

“Unless you wanna trade places with me and let me ride your horse, then yeah. Since we’re going to the same place, I don’t see why I shouldn’t go with you guys.”

            

Larkin sighed at the lack of common sense of everyone in the group. If we move the saddlebags around to lighten one of the horses there won’t be any trouble with her riding behind one of us,” he pointed out to the others. “Because he’s the smallest, and seems to have a fixation anyway, you can ride with Seok,” Larkin told Shula. Zija snickered.

            

“Zija will take all Seok’s bags and the girl’s too because his horse can handle them just fine,” Cain added.

            

“What?” The question was asked by both Seok and Zija in unison. “Why does she have to ride with me?” the younger man asked, only his words were drowned out by Zija’s angry, “And just why can’t your lazy ass horses carry his bags?”

            

Cain finished tying the knot in his girth strap and told Zija, “There are two people here younger than you are, so you can sure as shit stop acting like such a damn kid.”

            

“Who the hell’s acting like a kid here?”

            

“Not those two,” Larkin said as he pointed to Seok and Shula who were tying Seok’s saddle bags onto Zija’s horse with wicked grins on their faces. “He’s just a sore looser because I have to carry the heavy shit like the cooking pot that’s uncomfortable as hell to ride with,” Seok told Shula, his voice easily loud enough to be heard by the other three men.

            

Shula laughed, “Yeah, and after the way he was hitting on me in the inn that one day, I feel almost sorry that he has to replace my warm, soft body with some pots and pans.” This comment even earned her a bark of laughter from normally non-humorous Cain. After Zija’s horse was fully loaded and everyone swung into their saddles, Shula pulled herself up behind Seok on his brown horse and wrapped her arms firmly around his stomach as they started up the side of the mountain.

            

After they had been riding for some time Seok lost the stiffness in his back and leaned back comfortably into Shula’s embrace. The wind coming down the face of the mountain as icy and having the girl at his back, with all her layers of scarves and shawls was keeping a good deal warmer than the other three men who were riding in front of them looked. Shula had rested her face on the back of Seok’s shoulder, so that he thought she had fallen asleep, when she suddenly lifted her head and whispered into his ear, “Do you really not remember, Bhumi?”

           

Her warm breath blew past his cheek as she waited for his answer. Seok shook his head, as much to shake off the feeling of her face being that close to his as to answer her question. “No I don’t know anybody named Bhumi,” he replied. Shula put her face back down on his shoulder and nodded. He could feel her head moving against the fabric.

            

“Forget it then,” her muffled voice came to his ears, but something about that sentence bothered him. It was so unhappy, but not only that something about being told to forget, even if it was just a nonsense question stirred up his anger. Shula’s arms tightened around his stomach and she did not say anything else, so Seok remained silent as well. His horse stumbled though, and Seok realized that he had the reins bundled in his clenched fists. He loosened his fingers on the reigns and the horse seemed to sigh in relief, but Seok was far from soothed, thinking about why on earth being told to forget something made him so angry.

            

The frigid air coming down from the mountain top brought with it more snow, to blow, stinging into their faces and makes the already uncomfortable ride even colder and hellish. Cain and Larkin, riding side by side at the front of the group ceased their conversation as the wind blew progressively harder and harder, cutting through their cloaks and stinging the skin underneath it. The riders hunched in their saddles and urged their horses to keep plowing doggedly through the winds biting fangs.

            

Seok became even more thankful for his extra rider the colder it got. Though she had stopped speaking when the snow started again, she seemed to have a higher body temperature than anyone he had ever met, and while the front of him was stinging from cold, Shula’s arms around his stomach formed a solid band of heat, and her warm body, huddled against his back made him feel like he was in two different worlds at the same time.

            

Finally the ground began to level out and the men all had their eyes peeled for the next shelter that would be nearby. They were near the top of the pass and the second shelter house was supposed to be in the lee of an outcropping of stone that bottlenecked the south side of the pass. It was Zija who spotted it, after Cain and Larkin had both ridden past in the blinding snow. Though they would have noticed soon enough that they had passed the tiny building by when the stone cliffs closed in around them, both men were thankful to hear Zija’s shout. They turned their horses around and converged on the building.

            

Whoever had been there last in good weather had seen fit to provide the next travelers a stack of wood for the fire pit in the middle of the hut. Unlike the last building, this one was more of a shack than a shelter, with a roped off area for the animals inside the building instead of an adjacent lean-to and a fire pit dug into the floor and a rough hole cut from the roof to let out the smoke so the occupants did not choke in their attempt to keep from freezing to death. Aside from the hole in the roof, the walls did not let the wind through, and the body heat of the animals and people, as well as the fire soon heated the room to a bearable temperature.

            

“Why the hell,” Shula complained, hunching herself over the fire, “Did you shit for brains’ decide to go to Death’s gods forsaken temple at this damn time of the year?”

            

Zija, just as grumpy as Shula, was brushing the melting snow off his horse, when he retorted, “It’s not like we asked you to follow us you know.”

            

Shula made a noise thorough her nose, but made no move to leave her place by the fire. She held her hands over the flames, so close that Larkin actually winced when he saw her jerk back after a finger as orange as her hair brushed across her palm. “To hell with you too.” She muttered something under her breath that made Cain look up from caring for his own horse and stare. Larkin did not miss the look, but he had been unable to make out her remark. He was unsure of this whole situation they were in. None of this group were exactly normal, and they all, every one of them, had secrets hidden in their pasts that the others did not know.

            

Zija never spoke about his childhood, and Cain had never said a word about any part of his life before he entered the temple. Recently Larkin had heard everything there was to know about Seok’s past, as the youth could not even remember his own name, the name they all knew him by was actually a false thing given to him by a doctor of the temple who needed something to call the sick child. Larkin had a strange feeling about this girl though. Whatever kind of monster Seok was when he was unsealed, she had just walked up to him and slapped him across the face. Now she was still here, causing disturbances, and making him feel uncomfortable whenever she looked his direction. So far Shula had done nothing to warrant his suspicion of ill from her, but she reminded Larkin too much of Imara for his comfort.

            

Larkin, as normal, made something edible for the others to eat, and they dropped off to sleep one by one as the night wore on. When Cain was the only one left awake, sitting leaned against the wall of the shack, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I’ve got some questions for you, and you can be sure if you don’t stop pretending to sleep and answer them, I’ll leave you behind tomorrow to try to get through the rest of the pass on your own.”

NaNo 2013 Day 13

Ok, I'm finally caught up on my word count! Yay! I hit 20,000 yesterday with several over, though not enough to matter, and hit today's goal as well! my current WC stands at 22,083! That's about four hundred over, but I plan on finishing the chapter tonight, after I do some homework and study kanji. I have to learn 7 animals and some other things by Tuesday.

Didn't like part 1 of chapter 5? Don't worry, it gets better from here. The first half of this chapter was rough going, but I definitely think the next bit is more enjoyable.

NaNo 2013 Writing From Day 11

The beginning of this chapter was very unkind to me, and I think you may even notice it when you read it. At a later, after NaNo, date I think it will have to be changed.

Chapter 5 Part 1

In which a woman joins the party.

All throughout that day Seok was preoccupied. He could not seem to focus on anything and several times Cain had to shout at him to get his attention. Eventually the group left him to his own devices in the market place at the center of the city. When he realized he was alone, though, he thought nothing of it, just found a spot in the shade of a building and sat watching the busy people around him. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. It was in his eyes, Seok noticed, and needed to be cut again. He absentmindedly shoved the offending locks under the chain he never took off and sighed again.

            

He had had the strangest feeling all day, ever since that morning when he had woken up and almost been shoved down the stairs by Zija. Seok wondered if he were sick. He could not remember ever having so much as a headache or sore throat, that was not from drinking too much anyway, but that could be what was going on. It would explain the odd confusion, almost to the point of dizziness he had been feeling all day.

            

When noon arrived and passed and Seok did not come to find them to beg for money for food Larkin suggested going to find him. They found him easily enough, though when they went up to him and Zija asked, “You hungry yet?” Seok did not answer right away. When his stomach growled he smirked and stood up. “Yeah, let’s get something to eat.” His voice was normal, but Cain and Larkin shared a look over his behavior.

           

They got some skewered mystery meat and fresh bread to eat for lunch and Cain suggested leaving for the mountain that day instead of waiting until the next morning. “We won’t make it far enough that it will be getting cold in one afternoon. We’ll be able to camp outside, then make it to the first pass shelter easily the next day.” Larkin agreed with the plan but Zija was loath to give up the comfort of a bed for an extra night.

            

When Seok did not throw in his opinion without being asked, Larkin looked at him with concern. “Are you alright?” he asked. “You’ve been acting strange all day.”

            

Seok shrugged. “Don’t know. Something feels off though,” he said slowly, running his hand through his hair. “Maybe I’m sick.”

            

Cain scoffed, “Idiots don’t catch colds. Tell me one time where you’ve been sick and it wasn’t from alcohol.”

            

Seok shook his head. “Something just feels wrong.” He seemed at a loss for words. “Almost like I forgot to do something, only like it’s inside instead of something I forgot to do.”

            

“So you need to take a shit?” Zija asked. “Why the hell tell us that?”

            

“Why don’t you go take a shit,” Seok snapped back at Zija, obviously not feeling so ill that he was immune to his arguments with the red head. “Some of what you say might make sense if shit wasn’t coming out of your mouth all the time.”

           

“Does your head hurt?” Larkin asked, not to be dissuaded from the youngest of their group’s health.

           

“No, why?”

           

“You keep touching your hair, like you have a headache. It’s not something you normally do.”

            

“Huh?” Seok pulled his hand down to his lap, away from his head, which he had been scratching while Larkin questioned him. “Really?” Larkin reached down to where Seok was sitting and placed the back of his hand against the boy’s head. “What are you doing?” he asked, ducking away from Larkin’s hand.

           

“Hold still.” Larkin commanded, putting on what Zija and Seok called his “monster face,” which was actually something he did by manipulating his chi energy to make someone else feel threatened, rather than changing anything about his face.  Seok immediately froze, and Larkin said, “You don’t have a fever.” He turned to Cain, “It would be bad if he got sick while we’re on the mountain.”

            

Cain replied, looking north where he could see the top of Mount Taka over the edge of the wall, “It would be worse if watu caught us taking the long way around because the pass was closed.”

            

“I’m good enough to keep going!” Seok retorted.

            

“Then we’ll go get our stuff and leave,” Cain decided.

            

“What?” Zija stood, spraying bread crumbs from his lap. “Don’t I get any say in this?”

            

Cain had already started walking back toward the inn, but threw back over his shoulder, “Yeah, you can decide if you wanna stay behind or not.”

            

The Northern Gate let travelers out of Saigo right into the foothills of the mountain. The city had originally been built at the top of one such hill, and the group had to travel down for several hundred yards before they could start heading toward the pass over the mountain. There was a train of about twelve pilgrims wearing black robes so faded with age and use the color could hardly be said to be black any longer traveling on foot leaving the gate at the same time as Cain’s group. The color showed them as dedicates of the Lord of Darkness. They bowed low to Cain when they saw his attire, but said nothing, not even speaking amongst themselves, as they traveled.

            

The considerably louder and more lively group of four soon outpaced the walking pilgrims on their horses, but it was not until about an hour from sunset that the path split and Cain’s group started climbing the mountain. Though Mount Taka was only a single mountain, it was huge and sprawling, covering the land for miles in a rough circle, and its roots pushing up from their places underground made steep rolling hills in the grasslands to the west and dangerous, unexpected drops and cliffs in the forest to the east. The forest in the east climbed Taka Mountain and wrapped around to its west side where it petered into smaller wooded vales and finally the Hiroi Plains on the western side.

            

It was into this forest that Cain’s group went, following the rough path upward in a shallow zigzag pattern. At one point there was another fork in the path, with one side leading off to the pass that traversed the east side of the mountain. That route had led to another large city that was built only a day’s ride from Lord Death’s temple. Since the watu army had taken the strip of land to the east and south of the mountain, the Eastern Pass had seen little use save for those members of the city who had fled to Saigo, fearing the watu that were now so close to their city. It was in this fork that the group made camp for the night.

            

The next day, after leaving the final fork and starting down the real road to the pass the climb became steeper and more rough on the travelers. Already the height of the mountain had put a bite in the air, and before the day was over they would all be wearing wool cloaks and pulling down sleeves that were still rolled up because of the warmth of the sun shining down on them. They would be climbing the side of the mountain for another day before they would reach the top and start down again. They planned to stay the night in the first of the mountain shelters, built there long ago by someone who had been kind enough to realize the travelers could die in the cold air of the mountain at night and had decided to do something about it.

            

The climb affected the healing and still sore ribs of Larkin, Cain, and Zija less than they had expected, though all of them were saddle sore by the end of the day from the unaccustomed position that they had to sit in the saddle when climbing such a steep slope. They reached the shelter house, built in a flat area that was cleared of trees, though still about three hours’ ride below the tree line, with several hours of sunlight left. Zija was complaining about the cold, as he had been for the past hour or better, until Cain snapped at him. “Go find some damn wood,” he pointed to the grove of pine trees beyond the clearing, “and start a damn fire while we take care of the horses, if your toes are so cold. What do you have between your ears anyway? Shit for brains.” He muttered the last one as Zija headed off toward the forest spouting expletives of his own right back at the priest.

            

As they were getting the horses settled in the lean-to adjacent to the cabin a light snow started falling. Larkin sent Seok out to help Zija gather firewood and soon the group had a warm fire going inside the small hearth of the shelter. There was just enough room inside the building for a small table with two rough-hewn stools and sleeping rolls for all the members of the group to be laid out comfortably; though one of them would have to sleep under the table. As night fell outside and the snow showed no signs of stopping the door of the shelter burst open and a figure bundled head to toe in robes, wraps, and scarves stomped snow off its boots and crowded inside without a word.

Maps & NaNo 2013

So I'm almost caught up on my WC, but haven't even begun writing for today. As of right now I have 17,891 words. So by the end of the day I expect to have reached the projected count of 20,000. Lol, we'll see about that one right?

Anyway, because I was getting confused as to where I was sending my characters off to (Was the watu border to the east or west of that mountain?) I started sketching out a map. A very nice person on the NaNo forums has offered to take that map and make it look like a real one. I'm very grateful and give her artistic freedom in the project, because (as you can see) this map may be useful to me, but it's not very good for a finished book. I know, I know, I'm not finished yet, but I'm feeling quite accomplished thanks to what I have done already.

So this is the rough sketch of my map and the labels I use are in a combination of Japanese kanji (yes it is different than Chinese) and Roman lettering. So for your convenience here's a key:
山　= mountain
森　= forest
川　= river
小川　= name Kokawa River
高山　=  name Taka Mountain (Mt. Taka)
今　= at this time

And here's the confused middle part of the map with the city name corrected to Saigo

On the Subject of Titles

So, my current NaNo story is 29 pages in and still no title. I've posted on the suggestions thread and gotten some various and sundry mainstream sounding titles, with an interesting suggestion of Five over Three thrown in. While that one does sound quite interesting, it doesn't quite fit the bill for my story as it is currently.

Have I told you yet that a title is the hardest part about the story? How do you find a small sequence of words that sum up and project the emotion of this whole entity  that we call a book, that is infact a piece of the life of the author? It is made of her time and energy and emotion, she has given birth to this work through hard work and pain and occasional moments of pure happiness and inspiration that make the whole thing seem more worthwhile. How to name that?

That said, my story still needs a name, and I'm procrastinating on my word count by blogging about it...
*sigh*
Back to work then.

NaNo 2013 Day 10

Typed out 2,548 words today!  Total WC 15,050  WC needed 16,666 words I am behind 1,616.

Actually a funny thing happened to me today when I was writing in the top floor of the Mister Donuts down the street from where I live. There was a guy sitting at the table beside mine reading, and after we had both been there about 2 hours he got up and gave me his business card. Speaking Japanese so I could only get the gist of what he was saying, he actually asked me if we could be friends! I don't know if  I should feel weirded out, or sorry for the guy who had to ask random foreigners to be his friend. It was an interesting experience though.