#i think... abella's head is a little too small... but i am out of energy to do corrections for this daily doodle attempt lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aslaton8-blog · 3 years

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I’m not a writer

Yet I’m so full of imagination. So what do I do with this? I guess I begin writing right? So here is a glimpse at what I’ve been working on for the last decade and finally started writing. WITH the help of my writer friends of course. I still have some notes in here of places I need to work on or add details but other than that this is the rough draft of the first chapter:

“What is there left to strive for? It’s all…perfect.” Orin thought this to himself as he stared listlessly at the wall in front of him. This was becoming a habit, this sitting and staring, mind looping around the tedious perfection that encapsulated him. Perfection. A word that on its own should elicit thoughts of triumph and rightness. It was starting to mock him. He was feeling a nameless emptiness now, and the wall in front of him was failing to rectify the situation. So he decided to go for walk. He put on his shoes and stepped out into a glorious golden afternoon. The weather was perfect. Of course it was.

(here might be a chance for a little world-building. Descriptions of particular flowers or trees, anything to make the world unique and enhance the imagery)

He strolled down the street toward the community center, where the Battle Games and other events took place. The Games. Why did the citizens even bother with this archaic tradition? Sure he was privileged to be a part of the warrior team, and the yearly festival helped to keep him sharp and in great shape. That was worth something he supposed. It was a reminder of where they all came from, why they all got to live the happy, perfect lives they did. It was supposed to be a faithful reenactment of the last Great War. These days it was a popularity contest. (here I omitted the brief explanation of the war itself and the history, because this is a story that you can find a way to tell organically later on)

The community center loomed large before him, filling his field of vision with shimmering memories of hard-fought victories and the revelry that inevitably followed. All in the name of the True Victory all those years ago. Of course, the True Victory was a victory Orin himself had taken no part in. Still, the architectural juggernaut at the center of town never failed to send a shiver down his spine, and he felt his bow hand start to tingle at the sight of it. He would be ready this year, oh yes. He was always ready.

His fantasies of future glory were shouted out of the sky by a spunky, pig-tailed fledgling bounding across the street towards him.

“Orin!” she cried, waving excitedly as she barreled forward.

He rolled his eyes big enough for her to see, but behind the dramatic eye-roll there was the hint of a barely-hidden smile. This was a common reaction to her infectious energy. Abella skipped the last couple steps towards him, already reaching for his hand before coming to a stop.

“Orin Orin Orin! Was just on my way to your place, Isumthikar said you’d be there. You’ve been sitting at home a lot lately huh?? Well—Doesn’t matter. I made something I wanna show you. Come on!”

Orin’s feet were moving before he had time to blink. She dragged him around the corner, past a handful of dog walkers (don’t exist) and young couples enjoying another day of peerless beauty.

Abella never once let go of his hand as she led him down the street and through the front door of her mother’s shop, Katrin’s Kolecktibles. The store looked as it always did, dusty shelves lined with exotic artifacts of various origin and composition. Anything from brass vases to homemade jewelry, dream savers to fortune beads (I just made up crap here, good opportunity for WORLD BUILDING). Stern-faced Katrin stood behind the counter as she usually did, bent over a well-marked ledger with a fountain pen between her teeth. She eyed Orin over her glasses and smirked. Her daughter’s feelings for Orin were no mystery to anyone, Orin included, so there was an expectancy that hung in the air whenever the two of them were together. This tension clawed at Orin, and while Abella was sweet and beautiful (a common trait among most girls in the community), he just didn’t want to think about that right now. He had no desire to lead the girl on, but she was no dummy either. She knew it wouldn’t happen now, or maybe even soon. The girl was crafty, playing the long game. Orin couldn’t help but admire her perseverance.

He blushed under Katrin’s gaze as Abella rushed him to the back of the store, where she opened up a stout leather case and removed a freshly-carved, newly-strung ironwood bow. Orin forgot himself for a moment, his mouth unconsciously dropping open as he gazed upon its craftsmanship. Abella must have been pleased with this reaction, as she let out a honey-soaked giggle and handed him the homemade bow. He took it reverently, sighting it and drawing the string to test the tension. Perfect. Orin was never one for overreactions, but today he couldn’t help himself.

“You…you made this?”

“Uh-huh,” Abella replied, nodding matter-of-factly. “And even better, I got custom arrow heads.”

She reached into a small bin and pulled out a shining black arrow head, the tip whittled to a lethal sharpness.

“Me and Prong went up to the Pyrite Mountains and collected rocks. We spent days carving them. Whacha think?”

She handed him the arrow head. He caressed it, feeling the smoothness. He tested the point with the tip of his index finger, smirking when a red dot of blood appeared. “This is amazing. I think you have some talent, Abella.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She blushed and bit her lip. “Actually, I was also kind of hoping you’d use them in the competition this year.” She gestured to the bow in his hand. Her proposal hung heavy in the air as Orin not only considered the proposal itself, but also the implications of what it would mean, especially to Abella. The girl must have been reading his mind, because her eyebrows raised and she said:

“Just so you know, Prong will be using the arrow heads too.” The grin that spread over her face was rife with mischief. Crafty little Abella. So it was to be a challenge then. Orin was no stranger to challenges, and he was happy to accept this one. “Of course, Abella,” he said, bowing and pressing the bow to his chest, “I would be honored.” (here I omitted the explanation of Oauvyss courting traditions because it would be good to reveal this organically later on. I think for now it is enough to hint that Abella has serious feelings for Orin)

With so much light left in the day Orin departed Katrin’s Kolecktibles in search of a safe place to practice with his new bow and arrow. Nearby is a mountain range called the Kavos Mountains named to honor the hero of the last Great War on Oauvyss. This is where Orin’s parents died. He knew this would be the best place to practice because it always brings that darkness back enough for him to feel the true power of the weapon.

Orin was walking casually along the path toward the mountains when he spotted something very strange in the distance near the lake. It looked like a plant he had never seen before and looked like it didn’t belong in that area. “What was it doing there?” He thought to himself. His curiosity overcame him and pulled him toward the strange plant. As he got closer, the plant got bigger. He didn’t realize how far off in the distance he was looking at it. It started looking like some kind of plant made cocoon the size of an Oauvyn. He struggled with bad thoughts for a moment but then figured nothing bad could happen from a plant on Oauvyss yet he still had a bad feeling about it. It looked strange. It didn’t have the same vibrant colors the rest of the foliage around had to it. It looked like it was transplanted from another world. In an effort to understand this feeling it mustered inside of him, he investigated the cocoon further.

The hull glistened with tiny dark blue hairs blanketing its reddish-purple surface. Orin reached his hand out to feel the texture of the hairs but when he did he heard a loud snap in the trees behind him. His battle trained reflexes quickly shot him in the direction of the sound. He locked eyes on the trees looking for anything that could have explained that sound. His heart was pounding now.

“Why am I so afraid right now? This feeling is overwhelming!” Orin thought to himself in panic. He decided not to ignore the feeling and to take it seriously. He readied his bow and arrow he was just gifted from Abella.

“What a great time to have given this to me, Abella. I’m really feeling the power of this weapon right now and I hope I don’t have to use it.” He whispered under his breath to himself. “I just have a strong feeling about this strange plant right now.”

Suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere a shadow and powerful force or pressure pushed Orin down. Now Orin was more than battle ready. He had a bad feeling and now it was coming to life. “Shadow beings don’t exist so what the heck was that?!” He exclaimed out loud. He rushed back to town to get away from the strange events happening in that area and to hopefully inform somebody of the strange plant. He finds Prong first when he gets back into the village.

“Prong! Prong!” He screams at him from down the street. “What’s going on my friend?” he replied.

“Something strange is happening near Pyrite Lake in a field near the woods edge. Follow me, inform the other warriors!” Orin explained in a haste.

“Whoa! Slow down! What’s going on? What did you see???” Prong asked.

“No time to explain, we might be in danger. Just follow me and try not to alarm the towns people. “Prong ran to his house and gathered some things. On his way back to meet Orin and follow him, he made several stops to inform the other warriors. Lillium decided to follow as well while the others stayed behind to watch for any strange activity near the village. When they arrived the plant had bloomed but there were shadowy figures surrounding the plant from a distance in the trees. Orin pointed them out to Prong and Lillium.

“Look, right there! Those are the things I think that came with that plant. What should we do? Should we inform the villagers? I don’t want to put everyone in a panic but I also don’t want them to be unprepared.” Orin was concerned.

“We are emotionally prepared for danger, Orin. The villagers are not. I don’t think we should alarm them just yet. We need to know what we are even dealing with. You said it just bumped into you right?” Lillium asked.

“Well – Yeah but…” “But what?” “But I had a bad feeling around them.” “So? What does that even mean?” “I don’t know but I think we should listen to it.”

Lillium hesitated for a minute as she mustered up the courage to believe the words Orin was saying.

“Bad things don’t exist on Ouavyss, Orin… but we love you so I’ll entertain it.”

“If bad things don’t happen on Oauvyss then why did my parents die?”

“Everyone dies eventually, Orin.” Lillium rolled her eyes in a defensive manner. “But I guess you’re right. They didn’t die at an old age like most everyone else.” Orin was upset with Lillium’s reply but instead of keeping the anger between them he decided to switch the attention back to what he perceived as a potential threat. The shadows were just standing there...staring...from behind the trees along the treeline.

“What do you think it is Orin?” Asked Prong.

No one on Oauvyss had ever seen anything like these creatures before. Where were they coming from? Were they traveling from another part of the planet? Did they plant that strange flower there? The warriors were inspired with a flood of questions about these visitors. Orin seemed to be the only one concerned. He had a strange feeling about them and he believed his feeling even more now that he had opposition from Lillium. Anger is not common in Oauvyss. People get along mostly. He remembered the feeling of anger he had felt with Lillium about his parents. Why would Lillium be so careless about his parents death as if it was just another death. To Orin it wasn’t just another death it was a symbol. A symbol of his existence and what it means. He was gripped with purpose. He knew right then this was his mission. He needed to understand what that plant was doing there and why those creatures were just standing there and staring off in the distance.

Later that evening, Orin decided to go back once more on his own. He realized the shadow creatures weren’t attacking whiched conjured up the courage to revisit the strange plant. When he arrived it had bloomed even more. However when he got closer to the plant he saw something that blew his mind beyond anything he could ever imagine. He saw another Oauvyn fledgling curled up in the center of the flower bud. His heart sank and immediately ran to her rescue.

“What in the world was an Oauvyn doing trapped inside that plant???” Orin’s heart was in full panic and was racing toward the flower. When he got there the woman looked completely bare and sound asleep. Without hesitation he reached in and tried to pick her up. When he did, the shadows around him became restless. They began making a lot of noise and some even screamed at Orin from what felt like right next to him. This opened up the feeling of terror inside of Orin. This is not a feeling he ever felt before. He lifted the young woman out of the bloom and ran as fast as he could to the village.

“Lillium! Prong! Kragos! Somebody!! Help!!!” Orin shouted as he ran into town. Villagers started pouring out of their homes, interrupted by the screaming and shouting to see what was happening. They saw Orin carrying this woman and nobody came to help. They were all frozen like deer in the headlights. Orin looks down at the limp woman in his arms anyway and said:

“Don’t worry you’re safe with me now.” ------------------------------------ End first Chapter. Honestly never thought I would see my imagination on paper like this. It still has a lot of hashing and fleshing out to do of course but I think I finally have kind of a first chapter to this story! Wow! I’m feeling a little accomplished :)

#storytime #first chapter #fantasy #epic #fiction

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