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.

NaNo 2013 Day 9

Word count for today 12,754 WC goal 15,000. I'm about 2200 behind, working to catch up by typing 2000 per day instead of 1666.

Chapter 4 Part 1

In Which Much Land is Traversed

The silence on the road the next day after the group left the town behind was strained and awkward. After only a few hours of riding Cain reined in his horse at the side of the road and dismounted. Larkin coughed rather piteously as he followed Cain’s lead and winced at the pain in his broken ribs that had grown with every mile they had ridden. Zija muttered under his breath about it being, “About time to stop,” as he practically fell from his own mount. Seok was the only one of the party who seemed none the worse for wear and as such he was delegated the task of hobbling the horses and loosening girth straps.

            

Eventually, when he could not stand it anymore Zija asked Seok, “What in the hell is wrong with you today?” It was in part Seok’s unusual silence and the odd, guilty looks he had shot at his companions that had made the ride so unbearably uncomfortable. All three adults had begun to wonder if the youth had remembered anything from when his seal was removed.

            

“Nothing really,” Seok said looking up from a fallen leaf he had been shredding absentmindedly between his fingers. “Why?”

            

“You’ve been acting weird as shit since we left town. What’s the matter,” Zija smirked, “leave a girl behind or something?”

            

Seok’s face furrowed in annoyance. “Not like you mean, but it’s not like someone like you would think of.”

            

Zija was amused by the nonsense coming out of Seok’s mouth. He laughed and looked toward Cain, “Hey priest, your protégé over here’s having some love troubles!”

            

Cain raised his eyebrows as if he had not heard the entire conversation then shrugged. “Not my area of expertise,” but the corners of his mouth had turned up in a sardonic smile.

            

“I just told you it’s not like that!” Seok answered the teasing by stomping his foot on the ground like a child having a tantrum. “That girl Shula, I told you before didn’t I? I thought I’d seen here somewhere before, right?” Seok looked between his three companions. “Well the more I think about it the more I think I definitely do know her from somewhere!”

            

“Give it up brat, Mooning over some girl that took off on you is unhealthy,” he paused for a moment, then added, “and useless.” He stretched his arms above his head, then abruptly dropped them again when his shoulder and ribs shot simultaneous stabs of pain through his body.

            

Unlike Zija, Cain had taken in interest in Seok’s words. “You think you know her, or you think you’ve run into her somewhere, sometime in the last four years?”

            

Seok looked surprised by the question, but after a moment of consideration he seemed to understand the significance of it and the reason for Cain’s asking. Seok himself was as confused as anyone about how he was found by the high priest, and why he had been imprisoned in the cave, but the cave was all he could remember of life before he had been discovered.

            

He remembered the changing of the seasons, the interior of the cave getting cold, so cold that it felt as if his hands and feet would fall off, as well as it being unbearably hot. Thanks to these vague memories he knew he must have been there for years; though nothing save the temperature had ever changed inside the cave so he had no way of reckoning time other than the seasons that had run together with such monotonous sameness that his mind had all but shut down.  When Cain had found him, Seok had not even registered him standing right in front of him until he spoke. Then, even after that it had taken so long for his fogged mind to wake enough to comprehend what was happening and what had been said.

            

Seok shook his head in answer to Cain’s earlier question. “I’m not really sure, but it’s bugging the heck out of me. I’m really sure I’ve seen her before somewhere.”

           

“Yeah, we’ve established that, Zija said, lying back on the leaf litter under the tree he was next to. “Why’d we have to leave today anyway, Cain? My whole body hurts like hell, and I’m not…” He was cut off by Cain’s annoyed reply, “You’re the one that gave me the damn wanted posters yesterday, and now you think we should stay put longer than we already have?”

           

Larkin added as well, “If we didn’t get moving soon, even the lower pass will be covered in snow and impassible. Then it would take us another two weeks or more to go around the base of Taka Mountain to get to Death’s temple.

           

“Yeah, I know that, but won’t it be even slower if we have to keep stopping like this ‘cause we can’t even ride the horses?”

            

“It’s less than two days ride to the next town with an inn, Zija.” The red head grimaced. “We should be able to make it within those two days if we aren’t too slow.”

           

Cain sighed and stretched. “Five more minutes or so then,” he said.

           

“I’m also curious about these wanted posters you mentioned earlier,” Larkin directed toward Cain.

           

Zija answered for him, “Make the brat get up and get ‘em for you. They’re in the top of my back saddle bag, whatever it’s called.”

           

“The one at the back is called a cantle bag,” Larkin explained in a voice that said he had given out this particular piece of information too many times. Seok had found the wanted posters and was looking at them instead of handing them to Larkin.

            

“How do you even know crap like that?” Zija asked only to be drowned out by Seok.

            

“Look at how much you guys are worth!” he exclaimed. “What did you steal from the emperor Cain?”

           

Zija looked astonished. “How the hell can you read that?”

            

Seok looked down at the wrinkled papers in his hands and shrugged. “Don’t know. I just can I guess.”

           

Larkin, curious, reached up and pulled the posters from Seok’s hands. After a moment he asked, “If you can read these then you can speak Watu language too? What was that watu in our room saying the night of the attack?”

           

Three pairs of eyes now stared at Seok. “Something about,” he paused and his forehead crinkled, “betraying some gods or other and fighting beside humans. He thought I was a watu, I’ll bet.” His voice turned annoyed. “Do I look like a watu to you? My ears aren't that big are they? Zija’s stick out more than mine do!” Zija’s hand shot to his ears, as if to check that he did not in fact have the characteristic protruding ears of a watu.

            

Cain ended the conversation there by saying, “Neither of you looks particularly like a watu; though Zija does have the hair for it and big ass ears. Let’s get going.” He stood and went to tighten the girth strap on his grazing piebald horse.

           

“See, I’ve told you before that you have elephant ears!” Seok crowed.

            

“Get your asses moving!” Cain barked before Zija could reply. The group was back on the road in no more than five minutes.

           

Once again Larkin’s uncanny ability to estimate time was proven to be accurate as the group arrived at the next town just as the sun set on the second day of their journey. The group arrived late at the tiny inn, and managed to get the only open room in the building. The general word around the taproom that night over dinner was that there was an unusual number of people coming in from around Taka Mountain to the east because of something going on with the watu. Their raiding was getting bad, it was said.

            

Watu raids were far from uncommon in the areas alongside the border between human and watu lands. The former watu emperor had declared war on humans for an unknown reason, only months before he died and his first son Mfalme ascended the throne. Emperor Mfalme was far from a peaceful man, and before his first year as emperor had elapsed, all three of his legitimate younger brothers had died in mysterious accidents, and the most popular of his bastard siblings as well. He had shown no inclination to stop the war his father had declared on the human race, and instead supported it, growing the strength and loyalty of his army with cruel shrewdness to make up for the rumors among his own people that he was not a legitimate heir to the throne because he could show them none of the power the emperors before him were known for having because they were descended from the very spirits of the earth and fire themselves at the beginning of the world.

            

In the last twenty years the watu army had made several forays into the human territory and had actually taken a strip of land adjacent to the west side of Taka Mountain, which they called Marefu, and had been leading raids from it on the villages to the east and west. The only thing that seemed spared from these raids was the huge temple due west of the mountain’s foot dedicated to Lord Death, the holder of balance among the Three.

          

Even though the watu and humans were different species, they both knew of the gods of creation, and the pious of both species also followed the same lesser gods as well. Both humans and watu knew the stories of the mage kind who had striven to use the power their ancestors had gifted them with to become as powerful as the gods. Five hundred years ago they had attempted to enter the heavens, saying that their magic put them above the other earthbound species. The Three had not even had to lift a finger, the lesser gods had destroyed the mage kind. Within one year every mage on earth had died. Now human or watu, believer or not, none was willing to risk the anger of the gods, and so the main temple of Lord Death, placed on the border between human and watu lands, as Lord Death was always placed between the Lady of Light and the Lord of Darkness in depictions of The Three, was safe.

            

It was to this temple that Cain’s party was headed, and they hoped that by going through the pass on the east side of the mountain and avoiding the foothills they could also avoid the danger the watu presented to human travelers. Normally Cain could, as a High Priest of the Three be safe passing through such roads, as the robes worn by those of his rank were the same for both species and as such would be recognized as easily by any watu as by humans. Now, however, with wanted posters spread throughout the watu army with his and Larkin’s faces on them, it was more important that they take the road less likely to lead them into peril.

            

As it was, they were admitted to their room in the inn, where they gambled  until they had the money to pay for their stay. Zija seduced his way into the room of the innkeeper’s oldest daughter for the night and the other three spent an hour over the dicing table, deciding who would get to sleep in the bed based off of who could win the best of seven rounds. Cain had the best hand at card games of the group, though he typically avoided the cheating that Zija and occasionally Larkin were prone to. Larkin however, using that same extra sense he had for telling and guessing the time, was the best at dice games. He got the bed, and the next morning the group prepared to leave the inn.

NaNo 2013 Day 8

Current word count 10,703 words needed 13,333. I managed to type about 2,300 words today! An exciting point for me perhaps my computer's fan making constant random noises so that if I want to write somewhere besides home I have to do it in a notebook then transcribe everything later is a good thing. It actually gets me a higher word count as I add things in when I type it out!

Also please note I have changed the name of the other species in this story from laoi to watu. For reasons of translation and personal preference. I'll get around to editing it in my previous two chapters eventually, so until then bear with me, please.

Chapter 3

In Which a Clandestine Meeting is Held

           

          

A particular traveler came into the common room of the inn and sat without making any more fuss or attracting more attention than any of the other customers ever did. He ordered a pint of beer, but no food, and did not show any intention of renting a room for the night. Though the town was big enough that the townsfolk did not all know one another, the man stood out as being an outsider by his hair. He had dark orangy-red hair, not so bold as Zija, the young man who was always hitting on the women, nor so bright as that of the sassy tavern wench who had gone missing during the watu attack, poor girl, but somewhere in between. The townsfolk all had normal black hair, nothing so exotic even as a brown color. That was what had made Shula and Zija such attractions, but after the watu’s attack, it only made this new man’s every action dubious.

            

The red headed man sat quietly, drinking his beer with the men from the town who were just coming in to sit down to lunch watching him out of the corners of their eyes. The man just sat and watched the room, looking at nothing in particular, though his eyes lingered longest on the flock of young women fluttering around Zija. He watched as Seok burst into the room with a group of other boisterous young men and ordered food, and saw Cain and Larkin consider the crowd at Zija’s table, then limp over to an empty table in the corner for their own lunches.

            

Most of the men left the inn not too long after to return to work, but Seok, instead of leaving again went to brave the women around Zija and parked himself with a deck of cards and dice set in the seat across from his friend. Zija muttered something that made the women around him laugh, and several turned to follow the men out of the inn. A casual glance after their departing figures left Zija’s eyes to settle on the red headed traveler over Seok’s shoulder. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but otherwise no emotion played over his face. The red headed man jerked his head to the side, indicating the hallway leading to the courtyard behind the inn before Zija looked away. He then went back to nursing the rest of his beer.

            

Zija looked back to the cards Seok was dealing him and made no sign that he had seen, but when the man got up from the table and left through the back Zija finished his hand and made up an excuse to give Seok for leaving. He walked off down the hallway and into the bright light outside. Pausing to let his eyes adjust, he looked around and found the man who had beckoned him standing under the eaves of the stable.

            

“Kiume,” he stated by way of greeting. “What the hell are you doing here?”

            

“That’s a crappy way to greet someone you haven’t seen in years, Ndugu.”

            

“Just answer the question and stop calling me by that shitty kid’s name. Call me my own name.”

            

“If your name is really that shitty why do you want to be called by it?” Zija crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. “You know perfectly well why I won’t call you Zisizohaja, or any other shortened, bastard version of it either, so you might as well not complain.”

            

“That still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.” Zija’s voice showcased  his annoyance. “After a bunch of watu tried to kill me the other day an ass hole like you is the last person I want to see.”

            

“I’m glad I’m so well loved by my little ndugu, who I actually came to help out,” Kiume smirked as he said it.

            

“Yeah, well that little present the other day was about as helpful as shit, I’ll tell you.”

           

Kiume lost his joking attitude then. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. Trust me. That group has been running wild around the base of Taka Mountain for more than a year. This place just happened to be targeted while you were here.”

            

“And I’m sure your daddy is fully behind their actions, as per usual.” Zija’s disgusted sarcasm was not lost on the other man.

            

“I don’t even know if he knows about them, but the army’s behind them one hundred percent. You’d better prepare for more attacks like that one though. That’s what I came to tell you about.”

            

“Explain.” The other man sighed exaggeratedly and looked around the courtyard. “Kiume, if you came here to tell me, for crap’s sake tell me already!”

            

“Ndugu, you never did learn to hold in your temper.” He reached into the pocket on his vest and pulled out a ragged piece of paper. Unfolding it he handed it to Zija and stared talking. “The guy on the first page there is wanted for a mass murder in a border town about three years ago.” He indicated the inked in drawing on the first page. It was a face Zija recognized instantly: Larkin. “So that’s what happened,” he muttered.

           

Kiume’s ears perked in curiosity. “I had herd you two were living together in Central on the human side. He waited in hope of a reply, when none was forthcoming he continued. “Since word’s gotten out that this guy’s out here near the border you’ll be in for a lot of trouble. The reward’s pretty high, enough that small groups will be up for hunting him down and splitting the money up. I think you’ll know the guy on the next page too.” Zija flipped the paper over to see the other picture. “Since he’s a priest hunting him’ll be dangerous and the more pious of us won’t be going after him at all. That leaves the strong, the brave, and the stupid to come after you since you’ll all be traveling together.”

            

“You think Cain stole something from the emperor?” He looked skeptically at Kiume.

            

“No I think that Mfalme wants something your priest has. Saying it was stolen in the first place is just so he can seem right to be taking it back.”

           

“They’re all pieces of crap.”

           

“Can’t say I don’t agree, but I can’t do anything about it just yet. Mfalme hasn’t been very healthy lately though, so I’ve been getting a lot more work. I can’t tell you too much about all that though: politics is shit. Anyway this is all the help I can give you now. Anyway I’ve gotta go before someone finds out where I’ve been.”

“I don’t need your damn help!” Kiume only nodded his farewell and started walking away without another word. “Thanks,” Zija muttered grudgingly, without turning around to watch him leave. Kiume heard him though, of that he had no doubt. The man’s ears had always been too good for Zija’s liking. What was he doing all the way out here in some tiny border town anyway? He was good and fed up with being babied by Kiume.