Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Sharing My Writing

   When it comes right down to it, I'm a writer. For better or worse, this is what I've dedicated the rest of my life to. I won't lie, while making a little money from my stories would be welcomed, the major reason I write is for my own enjoyment. I share scenes from my two WIPs in Saturdayscenes and on wattpad (when it's working) to get a feel for how others react to my writing. But my favorite writing is a fanfic I started, based on a world and story that has become a part of my life. This story will never see the light of day because of copy write issues, but that's okay since I'm writing it for me. Even though I spend most of my time writing on the two WIPs, this story is always playing in the back of my mind, and will eventually be put down on paper.
   I've decided to share some scenes from that fanfic here on my blog so you can get a feel for the kind of story that moves me. If you're familiar with the story, I'm sure you will recognize the characters, and if not, I hope you will enjoy it anyway. Thanks for reading.

   Rand and Min proceeded to cross the short distance to Perrin’s camp, flanked as usual by twenty Maidens of the Spear. Several of the Aes Sedai decided to accompany them along with Flinn the Asha’man and Bashere. After yesterday’s meeting with the fiery Queen Tenobia of Saldaea, Rand was not surprised when Bashere found any number of reasons to stay close to him and avoid another confrontation with his Queen. The revelation that the Lord and Lady, who the Queen had left in charge of Maradon, were actually Dark-Friends, prevented Bashere from receiving anything more severe than a tongue lashing.

   One more day before his confrontation with the Dark One and Rand was worried. There were so many things still left to do. The Black Tower could not be ignored and the Seanchan were still a threat to the south. Rumor indicated that the old Empress was dead and the Daughter of the Nine Moons was now Empress. After their last meeting, he doubted that she would ever grant him another audience. Hopefully they would have their hands full fighting Trollocs. He had no doubt that the Shadow would bring as many Trollocs south through Waygates as possible rather than concentrate all of their forces along the Blight.

   What concerned and confused Rand the most was the fact that Mat was gone. For months now, all he had to do was concentrate on his two friends and visions of Perrin and Mat would appear to him. It must be the result of their ta’veren nature and being so closely tied to the Pattern. It made it possible for him to open a gate so close to Perrin’s army because his vision told him exactly where his old friend was. He knew that Mat was in Camylin as late as yesterday, but today nothing. Rand felt sure he would have noticed a change in the Pattern if Mat was dead so the only explanation was that he was now in the hands of the enemy. So many of his plans would change if that were true.



   “Where is Mat?” mirroring his own thoughts. “Shouldn’t he be here to join you and Perrin? You don’t think he is dicing in some tavern somewhere, do you?”

   “No Min. Mat has his moments but he knows I need him and would be here if he was able.”

   Min stopped to look up and study Rand’s face and the concern that was evident there. “Alright sheepherder, something is going on that you’re not telling me. You are more worried about Mat than you let on, and what do you mean ‘if he was able’?

   “I don’t know and that’s what worries me. For months now I have been able to sense Mat and Perrin in the Pattern, but as of this morning I can no longer sense Mat.” He noticed the questioning looks of their escort at the delay and continued. “Come, let us go meet Perrin and Faile. Maybe they can shed some light on what happened to Mat.”  

   They were close enough now that Rand could see that Perrin still had his beard that surrounded a large smile and had an impressive hammer resting on his shoulder. Even at this distance, Rand saw that this hammer was different than the one Perrin had the last time he saw him. Faile stood next to him with a fierce expression on her face, ready to spring forward to protect her husband. She still didn’t trust Rand and since he had almost killed Perrin when they parted last, he couldn’t blame her. Next to Faile, stood an attractive woman in a regal gown with a stern faced soldier just behind, wearing the uniform of Ghealdan. She must be Queen Alliandre, who Perrin had been sent to contact.

   On Perrin’s other side stood probably the most beautiful woman in the world. Of course Rand would never voice that opinion within hearing of the other women in his life but he knew that all men had a hard time taking their eyes off of the First of Mayne, Berelain sur Paendrag. He wasn’t surprised to see a Whitecloak attending her since he didn’t think there was a man alive who could resist her. What did surprise him was the number of Whitecloak tents he could see pitched along with the rest of Perrin’s army. Rand couldn’t wait to hear the story of how that came about.

   As he turned to comment to Min, he was just in time to catch her before she collapsed. Her eyes were unfocused and wide with fear and uncertainty.

   “Min! What’s wrong? What do you see?”

   He stepped in front of her to block what she was seeing and pulled her into an embrace, then held her tight until she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

   “Oh Rand! My gift has failed me. I don’t think you can ever trust any of my viewings again. They were the one thing I could count on to help you. If I don’t have those, what good am I to you?”

   All he could do was hold on and laid his chin on the top of her head as she sobbed into his chest. When the sobbing became sniffles he held her out at arm’s length and spoke softly so that only she could hear.

   “Min, look at me. You should know by now that you mean much more to me than just your gift. It has been very helpful in the past but it’s who you are that keeps me going, not what you are. Don’t you understand that it was your love for me and the love of Elayne and Aviendha that gave me the strength to overcome the darkness that threatened to consume me. Now, please tell me what you saw whether you believe it possible or not.”

   The golden veins of his love pulsed through the bond they shared. His eyes burned with a fire that warmed her on the inside and filled her with the strength and resolve to ignore her doubts. She took hold of his arm, turned him around and started walking.

   “Alright farmboy. This is what I see. Like you, Perrin now has the threads of people’s lives tied directly to him instead of the Pattern. Not only the ones he has gathered here but also the Borderlanders, a great many Aiel and an army of Seachan will follow him. Yet there is one other even he will answer too come the last battle, and it isn’t you. Berelain will marry the young Whitecloak she is standing next to, who just happens to be your brother. Last but not least is Perrin’s hammer. Since I can only see the possibilities of a life that is tied to the Pattern, the fact that I see images of a wolf sheltering a cub tells me that the hammer is somehow alive. Now, Rand al’Thor, you tell me how any of these viewings could possibly be true.”

   They continued to walk slowly toward Perrin and Faile as Rand stared straight ahead, mulling over what Min had just told him. He had promised her he would no longer keep anything from her. He believed what she had seen and knew them to be true. She deserved the truth.

   “Min, what you see has just confirmed what I’ve come to believe. My purpose in the upcoming battle will be to seal the Dark One back into his prison. Perrin and Mat will be the leaders of the people in the fight against the Trolloc hordes. Even if I am successful, humanity could still be erased from the face of this world without their leadership. Do you realize how many of the Prophesies we have been studying are not about me at all, but about Perrin and Mat. “When the Wolf King carries the Hammer, thus are the final days known.” Perrin is the Wolf King and he now carries the Hammer. During the War of the Shadow, the most powerful weapons were forged using both the male and female halves of the Source and required the sacrifice of someone’s life to complete it. Perrin’s hammer is such a weapon. I can sense the power in it from here.”

   He paused for a moment, took a deep breath trying to embrace a totally new emotion, and then continued in a whisper. “The Whitecloak next to Berelain is Galad Damodred, step-son of Morgase Trakand, Queen of Andor, and he is my brother.”

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