Why Do You Write?

   Some people write in a popular genre because they just want to sell books. Some write based on personal experience and some use nothing but imagination. Others have a political or spiritual viewpoint they want to share with the world. Then there are those who simply want to get in your head and scare the crap out of you or gross you out.
   My stories won't influence your view of the world, but will give you a chance to escape the world. At my age, I've experienced enough of the dark in this world and have no desire to add to it. I love to write about characters and how they face the challenges in their world. There is always a little humor, some heartbreak, maybe romance, but always upbeat and positive. I guess that's what I love about light fantasy, the dark side may win a couple battles, but good always wins the war.
   I also enjoy the challenge of creating a completely fictional world that hopefully still makes sense. Introducing new species into the world, who may or may not act human, adds flavor to an otherwise bland world.
   I write the kind of stories that I like to read, so even if others don't like them, I will.
   Thanks again for reading. This week I thought I would share a scene from my epic fantasy that's still in progress. Hope you enjoy.

The only sound to be heard in the clearing was an occasional crackle from the fire. Emma and Sebastion alternated between looking at the path that Navon had taken and staring at each other. Eventually the silence became too much for Emma.

“Well, what do we do now?”

“We doing nothing be,” he answered. “Amulet and pups him protecting. Wanting thinking time alone.”

“That’s easy for you to say, fur face. It’s me the Old Man will hang from my toes if anything happens to Navon.”

“I protecting you be, little one,” Sebastion grinned at her from his place by the fire.

Before she could come back with a barb of her own, all the wolves sprung to their feet growling, and stared into the forest. Frantic howling could be heard in the distance, coming closer. The two male pups careened into the clearing, broadcasting terrifying images of a brilliant flash of light that even Emma and Sebastion saw clearly in their minds. Bright Star and Drifting Snow were forced to clamp down on the necks of the pups to settle them.

Emma, who had a better rapport with the elder wolf than the pups, had to wait for a clearer image of what frightened the pups. What she did pick up from Bright Star made no sense. A white clearing with white buildings suddenly appeared on the trail, a voice that sounded in their minds, then Navon and Moonlight disappeared along with the clearing. Emma knew this forest better than any other and there had never been a white clearing like they described.

All eyes turned to her. Once again, silence filled the clearing except for the quiet whimpers of the pups and a low rumbling growl from Bright Star that Emma could feel.

Sebastion stood, then sat again, hand clenched on the hilt of his sword. Slowly and carefully he spoke. “Little one, somehow we have failed. This is beyond any of us and we need direction. Only you have the power to contact the Old Man.”

Emma nodded and reluctantly reached inside her tunic to pull out the talisman she kept on a chain around her neck. The Ancient One had given it to her many years ago to contact him in an emergency. She had only used it once before in a fit of frustration, and received a tongue lashing for her actions. Even though this was an actual emergency, he would not be pleased. At the touch of her finger along with a small release of power, a misty figure formed in the center of the clearing.

A deep, powerful voice filled the clearing as High Lord Demitrios faced Emma.

“This had better be important, little one.”

“What, did I wake you from a nap?” she bristled. “Of course it’s important, Your Ancientness.”

Sebastion let his fangs show in a smile, and then quickly put on a serious expression as the image of the Ancient One turned to him.

“Sebastion, I am disappointed in you. I had hoped you would have her under better control. Now, I see all of you gathered here except young Navon and what is most disturbing, I can no longer sense his spirit. What has happened?”

Sebastion could only shrug while holding his hands out to the side.

Emma approached the glowing figure, hands clenched at her side. “That’s the problem. We don’t see him either. According to the wolf pups, he and Moonlight have been taken away by your Deluti Spirits. You should have warned us.”

“What do you mean? And who is Moonlight?” He stared off into the forest before turning to the elder wolf. “Bright Star, may I question your young ones?”

With a bark of command, the pups moved forward to sit at the feet of the old Deluti High Lord. He stared into their eyes for a short period of time, and then released them. They rose and returned to their parents, no longer whining.

The Ancient One paced back and forth with a look of concentration on his face as he pondered. “Which one of the Councilors inhabits the amulet that Navon wears? He is not ready. What is the purpose of the bond to the she-wolf? This changes everything.”

“Stop babbling, old man, and explain to us what is going on,” Emma demanded.

He turned to the ogre, as if he hadn’t heard. “Sebastion, I must ask that you travel to the capitol city and present yourself to the King. Princess Sofia of Dahlian will arrive soon to fulfill an agreement between the two nations. My vision is unclear but I sense that the Princess is next in line to receive an amulet. One of the Dukes is planning something and I have to assume he is an agent of my brother. He will do anything to get his hands on one of the amulets. Tell the King I have sent you to be her personal bodyguard.”

He ignored the fuming Emma and turned to the elder wolf. “Bright Star, my old friend, the fate of your daughter and young Navon is now out of our hands. The Deluti spirits have activated the Arches of Rineron. We cannot interfere or aid them in any way.” The Old Man paused as he raised his eyes and gazed to the south. “They must have passed through the first arch. I now sense Navon’s spirit far to the south in the land of the Shadhuin Nomads. If he and Moonlight survive their trial they will return to the north through the Shadow Mountains. Wait for them there.”

Finally he turned to Emma with a look that caused her to step back. “And you, my favorite little tree climbing assassin, will accompany Sebastion to the capitol, find out what the Duke intends, and then contact me again. Stay out of sight and stay out of trouble if you can.”

Before she could respond, the image of the old man returned to her talisman, leaving her and Sebastion to stare at each other in apprehension.

“That went well, don’t you think,” Emma beamed. “Did you hear him? He said I was his favorite! C’mon Sebastion, let’s take care of the wagon and get going. The sooner we can arrive at the capitol, the sooner I can find out what the Duke is up to.”

Sebastion shook his head and chuckled as they broke camp.

Don't Go It Alone

   Probably the best piece of advice I received after starting down the road to become a writer was: "Build a network of friends, especially writers, before attempting to publish anything." The closer I get to publishing my first book, the more I realize how important that advice was.
   Even though I'm not very active socially, I have managed to attract several thousand friends on Google+ a quarter of which is made up of writers. I have a Facebook account but that's mainly for family and close relations. I haven't tried any of the other social media sites yet since I don't normally have much to say. I joined a writers critique group and a writers support group several years ago. The two groups serve a completely different purpose but are both equally important. I also gained the attention of a local independent e-book publisher who has been extremely helpful in guiding me along this path.
   Without the critique group and beta readers, I don't think this story would flow as well as it does. They identified problems and plot holes I didn't even know were there. Living on a fixed income doesn't leave any extra money for cover design or editing but here again my friends came through. Several volunteered to help me put together a cover that looks great and others have gone through the manuscript for me to tighten up the writing and to make sure I've got commas in all the right places.
   The point I'm trying to make is that unless you're a highly gifted writer, editor and graphic artist, e-book publishing is not a one man show. It takes a team to put together something that sells. I've lost count of the writers I've run into who tried going it alone and can't understand why they aren't selling books. They usually had a good story but it was presented in a way that kept readers from taking a chance.
   I'll probably spend several more days going over the manuscript one last time and then have my publisher friend take me through the process of getting it on Amazon. As soon as I have a date, I'll let everyone know. The goal is sometime before Christmas.
   For this week I'm back to sharing a scene from my fan/fic.
   Thanks for reading.

   Wait a minute. Something tickled the back of her mind. It had to do with Elayne and Warders, specifically the Warder bond. Egwene realized that Elayne had been unusually quiet the whole meeting and seemed pre-occupied with something, staring at the wall of the tent. Now that Egwene looked a little closer, she saw a slight smile on Elayne’s face and a warmth in her eyes Egwene had never seen before. Oh Light! Elayne wasn’t staring at the tent wall, she was looking right in the direction of Rand’s camp. Little hints, like the pieces of a blacksmith’s puzzle, started falling into place. Elayne has bonded Rand as her Warder! That’s how she always seemed to know what Rand was feeling and where he was. But hadn’t Nynaeve told her that their group first tracked Rand through Alanna and then through Min since both seemed to know where Rand was. None of this made any sense. Blood and bloody ashes! Now she was upset. Upset that she hadn’t figured this out sooner and upset that her best friend had kept it a secret from her.

   “Elayne,” Egwene said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “I think we should start with the secret you’ve been keeping from all of us. The secret of you and your Warder.”

   At Elayne’s gasp and startled look, Egwene knew she had caught her woolgathering. Elayne recovered quickly though and answered. “You know I can’t talk about that.”

   “I‘m not talking about Birgitte, I’m talking about your other Warder, Elayne.”

   Egwene watched in amazement as a number of emotions flashed across the other woman’s face. Some she couldn’t even identify before Elayne’s training took over and the Queen of Andor sat before them once again.

   “First of all,” she declared. “I am not going to ask for forgiveness for what we’ve done and I don’t regret keeping it a secret. As you will see, there are some very personal reasons behind it and a matter of safety for those involved.”

   That got everyone’s attention.

   “Please be patient,” she asked. “I need to go back to a time before I knew any of you.”

   For some reason she stared at Nynaeve and Egwene a moment before continuing.

   “After the two of you, with Rand, Perrin, Mat and Thom, left the Two Rivers with Moraine Sedai and Lan, the first town you stopped at was Baerlon, right?”

   “I didn’t leave the Two Rivers with them.” Nynaeve grumbled. “But that’s where I caught up with them.”

   With a sympathetic look for Nynaeve, Egwene answered the questioning looks on the older women’s faces. “A story for another time.”

   “Anyway,” Elayne continued. “I don’t think either of you are aware of the fact that the main reason Moraine Sedai wanted to stop in Baerlon was because Min lived there. Moraine knew all abut Min’s ability to look at someone and see their future. Remember, Moraine knew that one of the boys had to be the ________ and hoped that any viewing of Min’s would lead her to the right one. Min told me that when she looked at the three boys, she almost fainted at the number of images swirling around their heads. With so many images she could only be sure of two things. The first being that the three of them are so closely tied together that if any one of them fails then possibly the entire Pattern fails as well.”

   “Blood and bloody ashes,” Siuan blurted out. “That means Perrin and Matrim are just as important as Rand in the upcoming battle. We have been so focused on Rand that no one has been keeping an eye on the other two.”

   At a sharp glance from Egwene, Siuan sat back in her chair muttering under her breath.

   “It’s a little late to worry about them now, Siuan. From what I’ve been able to learn, the two of them have done very well on their own.” Turning her attention back to Elayne, she asked. “What was the second thing Elayne?”

   “When she looked at Rand, she saw that she would fall hopelessly in love with him and that two others would love him also. The viewing didn’t tell her whether or not he would love her or any of the other women. If he did, then somehow the three of them were going to find a way to share him.”

   “Fish guts, girl,” Siuan exclaimed. “That is the most disgusting and indecent thing I’ve ever heard. Besides, I would box the ears of any man I caught trying to juggle three women at the same time.”

   “Siuan,” Egwene said with another sharp look. “Control yourself. It isn’t that unusual. Many Aiel women share a husband and it wasn’t that long ago that the idea of an Aes Sedai marrying her Warder was frowned upon. I think we can safely say that prohibition has come to an end, can’t we?”

   Since Siuan had married her Warder, Gareth Bryne, and Egwene was planning on marrying her Warder, Gawyn Trakand, Elayne’s brother, there was nothing left to say.

   “It’s still indecent,” Siuan muttered.

   As Elayne and Egwene shared a smile between them, Egwene continued. “So, Min was the first, you obviously are the second, but who is the third?”

   Before Elayne could answer, Nynaeve looked up with an incredulous expression on her face. “Aviendha. It has to be Aviendha. Is that what all that first sister business was about?”

   Egwene could only sit and stare as memories of their time in the Aiel waste flashed through her mind. Aviendha was the last person she would have thought of. All the time that they had spent together as apprentices to the Wise Ones, Aviendha had treated Rand with scorn and appeared to hate being around him. And what was this about first sisters?

   “Elayne,” she said. “Aviendha is the last woman I would have ever guessed. Remember, we spent a lot of time together in the Aiel waste and she certainly never acted like she wanted to be near him. Plus, I’m sure I don’t understand all of the intricacies of Aiel relationships and family bonds, but I know that to be first sisters means you have to share the same mother. What am I missing here?”

   With a laugh of understanding and ironic amusement, Elayne answered. “Egwene, the only way to understand Aiel ways is to be born and raised Aiel. I don’t even try anymore. But to answer your last question first, the Aiel Wise ones have developed some amazing weaves over the years. If two women care for each other enough and want to be first sisters more than anything, the Wise Ones have a ceremony that can simulate being born together from the same mother. Actually, Amys acted as our surrogate mother. The experience was so intense and I guess you could say primal, that I can’t even begin to describe it. Anyway, we became first sisters in heart and mind, if not in blood.”

   It was obvious from the look on Elayne’s face and the beginning of tears, that this was still a very strong emotional experience for her and she would need some time to recover. Egwene decided to get up and see if there was any tea left in the pitcher. As she got up, she thanked the Light again that her new chair was nothing like the one she’d had in the rebel camp. That thing would collapse every time she moved it and had dumped her on her backside a number of times. It’s extremely hard to maintain any kind of dignity when you’re on your rump with your dress around your knees. Thankfully, there was still tea left, so she proceeded to fill anyone’s cup who wanted more.

   “No thank you, Egwene,” Elayne grimaced. “I’m still only allowed goat’s milk because of the pregnancy.”

   After Egwene returned to her chair, Elayne continued. “I’m afraid you will have to ask Aviendha about her side of the story, because I’m not sure it’s something I can discuss. But I can guarantee that she loves Rand as much as Min and I. So when Rand came to Caemlyn to drag Nynaeve off on his mad plan to cleanse the male half of the Source, the three of us got together and confronted him, explaining how we felt. Of course, being a man, he thought we were all crazy and gave us some drivel about how he didn’t want us to be hurt when he died at the Last Battle. He finally confessed that he loved all three of us and agreed to let the three of us bond him.”

   “But Min has absolutely no ability to channel the One Power. How could she have bonded him?” asked a very puzzled Nynaeve.

   “Aviendha and I worked out a new weave using parts of the Warder bond and part of the first sister weave,” Elayne explained. “We tied the three of us together and then bonded Rand with one bond. Instead of having three separate bonds, there is one bond with a link to each of us. I had no idea how strong the bond was until something in Rand changed and a circle of blue sky opened up over Caemlyn. I’ve heard the same thing happened over the Stone of Tear where Min was staying. I have no doubt that where ever Aviendha is, blue sky is there also.”

   Siuan snorted as she got up and faced each one of them in turn. “I still don’t know what to think about what the three of you have done. However, it’s obvious to me that we’ve been living to long with the belief that just because something has never been done with the Power means it can’t be done. I’d rather clean out the bilges than admit this, but we Aes Sedai have become stagnant and lost the ability to be creative, which brings us back to the purpose of this meeting. Do we dare let Rand destroy the remaining Seals on the Dark One’s prison? Do we dare stop him? We all know that more than half of the Seals have failed already and the others will fail soon. Are we against it because of pride or because of ignorance? Even the youngest member of a crew knows that when you start putting new patches over old ones in the bottom of a boat, it’s time to replace the whole bottom. This grates on me like a pair of old, rusty oar locks, but I think it’s time we stopped trying to control and guide the _________ and just give him the support he asks for. Didn’t he say that the seals were a last ditch measure taken because the female Aes Sedai of the time refused to help him? If we give him our full support this time, maybe instead of patches he can make the Dark One’s prison whole again. You’ve been speaking a lot about trust this evening, Mother. Maybe it’s time we trust the Dragon to do what needs to be done. Besides, from the look of the world right now, what do we have to lose?”

   What do we have to lose? Egwene thought. If we lose, the world and everyone in it will cease to exist. Could she trust Rand that far? Did they have a choice? She would have to make a decision by tomorrow and hope it was the right one.

Are We There Yet?

   I don't know if other writers feel this way but I'm getting to the point where I just want this story published and out of my hair. If you've been following my blog for a while, you know that writing is not easy for me. It feels like I've been working on this story forever and it's still not done. Should get the final comments from the last beta reader soon and then it's time for the final edits. The book cover is good to go so as soon as the edits are complete, it's off to Amazon for publishing.
   The plan is to get the story published before Christmas. I doubt I'll do anything special like a release party since I don't know how but I will post the date it becomes available. Hopefully with the few friends I have on Google and Facebook, the word will get spread to enough people that some may actually check it out.
   The title of the book is "The Princess and the Apprentice" and I've included the tagline, back cover blurb and the synopsis here.
Thanks for reading.

Tagline: Apprentice mage Aldan did not foresee the responsibility of protecting a Princess. Neither did he anticipate falling in love.

 

Backcover:

Generations have come and gone since the end of the Mage Wars when renegades rebelled against the authority of the Council of Mages. Mages no longer held the trust of the people and magic use was shunned.

An ancient scroll from a previous age had predicted the war and the subsequent decline in magic. It also warned that there would once again come a time of mages seeking power but that one would be born with the power to subdue them and re-establish the Council. A cryptic message at the end of the scroll, penned by a different hand, read simply, “Beware the magic of blood”.

The spirit of the High Mage still haunts the Citadel and believes that Aldan Beaverson may be the one foretold. Forced to flee her home, Aldan assumes the role of Princess Odessa’s protector. He leads them into the Citadel where the High Mage gives him a Staff of Power. Princess Odessa is forced into embracing the magic of women, the Blood Magic.

Will the love that blossoms be enough to overcome their differences or will Odessa succumb to the seduction of the Blood? Only time will tell…

 

Synopsis:

Aldan arrived at the King’s castle expecting to apprentice to the King’s Mage. Before he is able to recover from the journey, the castle comes under attack and he is forced into the role of the Princess Odessa’s protector. Along with two guardsmen, they flee the castle through a secret passage where Aldan is confronted by beings and places he’d only read about.

Plagued by a lack of confidence in his abilities and confusion over the budding relationship with Princess Odessa, the companions struggle to reach a neighboring kingdom for help. With every confrontation, Aldan’s confidence grows. Odessa also discovers a source of magic only she can use.

Upon arrival they discover that the kingdom is under attack from an ancient evil that only they have the power to overcome. Will Aldan’s confidence and Odessa’s rare magic be enough to prevail and guaranty the help they need to return home?

So begins the story of “The Queen of Darkness”.

Happy Thanksgiving

   First of all, I'd like to wish all my American friends a Happy Thanksgiving! Hopefully, most of you will have family around to enjoy along with loads of good food. For those of you who are away from family or for whatever reason don't have family to get together with, I know how you feel. I've spent a number of Thanksgivings in a tavern or on a ship in the Western Pacific. I may not have always had family around me but I was never alone. Please, whatever you do, don't sit at home by yourself. I've met some really interesting people just going out to a Dennys for a holiday meal. If you have the means, don't forget that single friend of yours and invite them over for a meal and company.
   This is also the time of year that my writing slows down even more than normal. With three kids and six grandkids, it seems like there's always some family thing going on. Plus we have the only house big enough to hold everyone so all the big meals and get togethers are here. Since I'm the only one physically able right now, keeping the house clean, shopping and cooking meals is up to me. My granddaughters would probably help with the cooking but I'm a stubborn old man who likes to do things my way. Anyway, I'm still making progress on the rewrite of my novella but as other writers know, sometimes it takes longer to do the edits than it did to write it in the first place.
   I don't have any writing to share this week but since no one comments it's probably not being read anyway. Hopefully I'll have something to share next week.
   Thanks for reading and have a happy holiday!

Turtle or a Snail

   For this week's ramble, I find myself thinking about all the people who are churning out words for NaNoWriMo. My hat is off to those people. Even if I spent several hours a day scribbling down a bunch of nonsense, I physically couldn't produce that many words in a month. My arthritis won't allow it. Plus, when I write, I picture the scene in my head and repeat over and over until I'm happy with how it plays out. Then I write it down and read what I've written. If it doesn't match what I had envisioned then I start over. It could take hours just to get a single page of story written the way I want it.
   Most people would see that as working at a turtle's pace but that's on a good day. When health issues or depression raises their ugly heads, I end up shifting down to a snail's pace or stopping altogether. If it wasn't for the wonderful comments and encouragement I've received from my new online friends, I probably would have given up long ago.
   I am making progress though. Final edits are almost complete on my novella as soon as I receive the last of the beta comments and suggestions from my critique group. Not sure how well it will turn out since the money I had set aside for an editor was burned up by an ER visit. Hopefully the feedback I've gotten and with the help of a friend who will look it over for punctuation, it will be alright. I'm also slowly adding new chapters to my epic fantasy and have entered several short contests.
   If you're getting tired of reading scenes from my fan/fic, I decided to share the first scene of a western a friend of mine challenged me to write.
   Good luck if you're doing NaNoWriMo and thanks for reading.

                                    Chapter One

                         Never Look Back

 

Even though nothing had changed, everything felt different. The smell of bacon frying, and the sizzle of eggs in the griddle were just like every other morning in the kitchen. As of today, it could no longer be called their kitchen. The ranch now belonged to another.

Maebelle Cutter set the plate of flapjacks alongside the eggs and bacon, sat at the head of the table, and joined hands with her two boys in silent prayer. All the words that needed to be said had come out over the past several days. Today was the day for goodbyes.

Joshua finished first, gulped down the last of his coffee, stood up and carried his dishes to the sink. Emptying the water bucket into the large pot on the stove for hot water, he headed for the well outside, and gently shut the door behind him.

“Yer brother still ain’t keen on the idear, is he?”

“Na, don’t you worry bout him, Mama. He knows it be fer the best. He jus not be liken it.” Sonny finished his coffee, got up and kissed her on the forehead. “Ya shore there ain’t nothing else we can do?”

She reached up and placed her hand on top of his were it rested on her shoulder. “You boys need to hit the trail if you aim to reach your uncle’s place in time. Mr. Crenshaw and his younguns will be here shortly to help me pack up what’s left and finish movin out.”

“Best be getting the horses saddled up then.” He squeezed her hand and left, passing Joshua on the way back in with a full bucket. Crossing the yard, he led the horses out of the now empty barn, and stopped to gaze out over the open fields where herds of cattle used to roam.

The beginning of the end came three years ago when the railroad forced his Papa to sell a strip of land right through the middle of their property. A right of way they called it. Then at Christmas time that same year, the old man lost his battle with a sickness that had plagued him all year.

Even though he and Joshua tried to keep the ranch going, their hearts just weren’t in it, and it pained him to watch the fire diminish in his Mama’s eyes. It was time for everyone to move on.

“Come on little brother. Let’s say our goodbyes to Mama and hit the trail. Uncle Travis is waiting for us.”

She stood on the front steps to hug the boys, and kiss each of them on the cheek, then held them at arm’s length. “Papa’d shore nuff be proud of you boys and the men you’ve growed up into. Sonny, I expect you to watch over your brother, and see he don’t come to no harm.” With a tear in her eye, she continued. “Now get on outta here, and live your lives jus as it were meant to be! Never look back.”

One last hug and a kiss before the brothers mounted up and rode out through the front gate for the last time. If they had looked back, they would have witnessed their mama huddled on the top step, head in her hands and her body racked with sobs.

 

#Western

Support Our Veterans

   I feel the need to post a little something on this day to commemorate the brave men and women who have served this country. As a veteran myself, it is a great honor and privilege to be counted among the many who have fought and died for the freedoms we hold dear.
   It makes me sad when I see people protesting against the military and veterans. Hopefully, someday they'll understand that it's because of the veterans they have the freedom to do so. I wish there was a way to communicate to them the positive effects of serving in the military. Lifelong friendships arise from working side by side with people you probably wouldn't even talk to at home. The discipline and self-esteem generated while working as a team to accomplish a mission that would be impossible for an individual, are things that stick with you forever.
   While the majority of vets go on to live successful and productive lives, there are those wounded either physically or emotionally, who have found it difficult to achieve that success. I believe it is the responsibility of all Americans to help those disabled vets find a new team to be a part of. To give them that helping hand to overcome whatever obstacles are in their way.
   It reminds me of a story of two young sailors working deep down in the belly of a ship doing preservation in the bilges. One is overcome by the fumes and attempts to climb the ladder before passing out but can only manage a couple of rungs. His partner came up under him and pushed, taking them both up the ladder to safety. In normal circumstances he could have easily scaled the ladder, but in this instance, just a little push was all he needed to succeed.
   Please take the time today and reach out to any veteran, whether family, friend or stranger and thanks them for their service. You'd be amazed at what a difference a few friendly words can make in someone's life.
   I won't post any of my stories since the purpose of my blog today is to voice my appreciation for our vets, not to promote my writing.
   Thanks for reading.




#VeteransDay  #DisabledVeterans

The Importance of Beta Readers

   So, you've completed your story except for edits and think you're done. Wrong. You are just getting started. I've been working on my novella for a while now and have gone back several times to edit and rewrite sections of the story. Still not good enough. Even though critique groups are great for individual chapters or scenes, they rarely see the story in it's entirety. That's where beta readers come in to fill in a vital piece of the puzzle.
   A number of folks graciously volunteered to beta read the novella and I've already received feedback from some of them. While not everyone is going to like your story, you can still benefit from their comments as to why they didn't like it. That's actually more beneficial than the one who says they loved everything about the story but gives no suggestions for improvement.
   I don't care how accomplished a writer you are, there is always room for improvement. Sometimes writers get so close to the story that they don't notice the things that are missing. I forget that the reader doesn't know what I know and needs to be given hints to help them come to the conclusions I want them to. It frustrates me the number of times I write that the character reached their destination or finally met up with someone and readers ask who is this person or I didn't know they were headed there. Sure enough, when I go back to check, I realize I never mentioned where they were going or who they were supposed to meet. It was in my head but not on paper.
   Based on the feedback I've received so far, I'm sharing the rewrite of the first chapter, and hope some will comment whether this is good enough or needs more work.
   Thanks for reading!




 

                                    Chapter One

                               The Castle

 

Aldan Beaverson hurried along the cobblestone street leading to the King’s Castle at the west end of Westalia. For five days he’d outpaced the army approaching from the south. Rumors abounded at every village along his route as to King Romar’s intentions. However, today the weather became unpredictable along with greater numbers of villagers headed for the city in search of safety. He’d arrived in the city later than planned and hoped the rain would delay the army even longer. The rich aroma of roasting mutton and the sound of laughter coming from a nearby inn pulled him away from his intended destination. The promise of a hot meal and the chance to dry off outweighed his need to reach the Castle.

Aldan stepped through the door into silence as every eye fell on him and then quickly turned away. Forced laughter erupted from several tables as it appeared patrons were more interested in their ale than food. With the one serving girl busy refilling mugs, Aldan signaled to the innkeeper who seemed loath to abandon his sanctuary behind the polished wooden counter.

The food was surprisingly good but he wasted no time in savoring the meal. Silence fell once again when he stood but the laughter returned full force as the door shut behind him. The rain had tapered off while he ate, but heavy, dark clouds still filled the sky. Shifting shadows from overgrown bushes and the rustle of leaves from ancient oaks, added to his unease after leaving the inn.

Aldan breathed a sigh of relief as the dark silhouette of the castle came into view. This was the first castle he had seen outside of the pages of a book and the reality of it stopped him in his tracks. It would not have surprised him to hear the ground groan at the weight of the massive stone structure. Dull faced granite blocks, most covered with moss or ivy, were a testament to its extreme age. The foul odor he encountered was unexpected.

Apparently they drained the castles garderobes into the moat, probably as an extra deterrent to keep enemies out. Fortunately, the drawbridge was lowered. Holding his breath, Aldan hurried across to the sally port in the massive wooden gate. A quick pull on the bell rope and a voice from somewhere above called down.

“Who goes there?”

“Aldan Beaverson. I’m the new apprentice mage.”

“Aye. We’ve been expecting you. A moment please while I summon the mage.”

Aldan hoped they would hurry as one of the shadows detached itself from the nearest building and slowly made its way toward the bridge. He quickly rehearsed one of the few defensive spells he had learned and loosened his sword in its scabbard, just in case.

About the time he determined to cast his spell, the portal opened and he was unceremoniously dragged through as the nervous guard peered out then slammed the door.

Unaware he’d been holding his breath, Aldan gasped, “What in the Seven Hells was that?”

“That is why you are needed here,” announced an elderly, silver haired gentleman. “And why the gate is always kept closed. Well met, young Beaverson. I am Jordan Ryecliff, King’s Mage. I must return to the King but the chamberlain should arrive shortly to escort you to your rooms. I will see you as soon as I can, but plan on asking your questions on the morrow when we have more time.”

With that, the mage spun in a swirl of flowing, dark blue robes and disappeared down a corridor just as a harried, portly man approached from the opposite side of the entry tunnel.

“Ah, Master Beaverson! So glad you finally arrived. Welcome to Greystone Castle. I’m the chamberlain, Horis Whitely. Please follow me and I will show you to your rooms.”

Before Aldan had a chance to answer, the chamberlain headed back the way he had come. Hurrying to catch up, he couldn’t help but notice the poor state of the castle. Dust covered everything in the hall and cobwebs hung from the ceiling. The wooden banisters and railings of the three flights of stairs they climbed, hadn’t seen a polish cloth in a very long time. The hour was not that late, yet the only sounds to disturb the eerily quiet halls were their footsteps.

They arrived at a door the chamberlain opened with one of the many keys attached to a ring. Aldan entered the room, pleasantly surprised at what he saw. His rooms had been thoroughly cleaned and several lit candles gave off a pleasant scent. A small fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace. Tapestries hung on the walls depicting forest scenes and someone’s garden. Not really to his tastes but better than scenes of battle in their blood spattered glory.

Master Whitely waved in the direction of a small table to one side. “I suspect you are quite weary from your journey but a small bottle of wine and a platter of meat and cheese has been provided in case you are hungry. I must leave now and return to the King but the Mage indicated he would visit you before turning in. A key to your room hangs on a peg next to the door. Just as a precaution, always keep your door locked. Goodnight.”

Aldan shook his head as the chamberlain quickly exited the room and shut the door behind him. Other than the one question he’d been able to voice upon entering the castle, they had given him no opportunity for further conversation. He didn’t need to be a scholar to figure out something was terribly wrong. Where were all the staff, and why keep his door locked in the King’s castle?

A knock at the door put a hold on further musings. With the chamberlain’s warning still fresh in his mind, he cautiously stepped to the door and called out. “Who’s there?”

“Your royal welcoming committee—as it were.”

Intrigued, Aldan opened the door to be confronted by a stunningly beautiful young woman about his own age. Long dark hair framed the face of an angel with deep green eyes and wearing a simple but elegant gown. Having someone like her appear at his door did not happen every day.

“Are you going to invite me in or just stand there and stare?” she asked as one corner of her mouth twitched, and the twinkle in her eyes threatened to un-mask her royal attitude of indifference.

“Ah, sorry my lady,” he stammered in apology. “I was expecting Mage Ryecliff.”

Aldan held the door as she glided in on slippered feet. The material of her dress made a swishing sound as her perfume filled the air. He shut and locked the door as he’d been told, all the while desperately trying to regain his composure. Why would Princess Odessa visit him in his rooms, alone?

He faced the princess and executed his best bow using the form taught to him by his mentor. “Forgive me your Highness. I am Aldan Beaverson, apprentice mage, at your service.”

After a perfunctory glance at the rest of the room, the princess returned her gaze to Aldan. Wavy blond hair that just touched the tips of his ears, framed an angular face dominated by a set of expressive dark brown eyes. The tall, slim body that would fill out as he aged gave her a glimpse of what the future promised.

 “At least you are more pleasing to the eye than our last apprentice. Your hair is shorter than I prefer but that will grow out in time. Now come away from the door and join me at the table. We must talk.”

Aldan rushed to position her chair as she sat down, then sat across the table hoping she had missed the color in his face at her frank appraisal. So many questions flashed through his mind, but where to start?

The princess sat there quietly with the same faint smile as if waiting for something. This time, the heat that rose up from his neck was for his own lack of manners. “May I pour you a glass of wine, Princess?”

She answered with a nod of her head and a quick glance at the platter of food in the center of the table.

“Please help yourself, Princess. Meat and cheese are all I have to offer you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, but we can talk about that later. Right now, I feel I must inform you of the happenings inside the castle.”

“Please do. The city is on edge with the approach of King Romar and I’ve felt something else was amiss ever since I passed through the gates. It has only gotten worse now that I’m in the castle.” Aldan gestured with the knife he used to cut slices of the meat. “Even the air around me feels oppressive and filled with malice.”

The Princess nodded in agreement. “That is one of the reasons why most of the staff has abandoned the castle. That and other things.”

His attention riveted on her face as the hair on the back of his neck rose in apprehension. “What other things?”

Eyes wide in fear, trembling, she pointed to the door with a piece of cheese and whispered, “Those things.”

Reluctantly, his head swiveled to face in the direction she pointed and watched in fascination as a black cloud oozed under the door and formed into a being unlike anything he had ever seen before. How do you defend against something that appears as solid as smoke?