Back Story

May is finished and so is my mostly completed challenge. But I need to keep writing!

This story is based off a novel I wrote back in high school, five years ago. This world I created has become something that I pull from, even though I have yet to rewrite that novel. I wrote a stageplay using characters from this novel in one of my second and third year courses and now I've written part of the back story to the novel itself. 

I hope you enjoy!

*** 

She has been told she is special, and now, standing between Mother and Father with that ridiculous grin on her face, I know she believes it. But it should be me up there, not her. What is it about her that makes her special?

"Andreana," Mother snaps, gesturing with her hand for me to step up next to her.

I put a smile on my face and step forward. The people of our kingdom are kneeling in the front courtyard below the balcony, but all eyes are glued to Andralyn. Of course. It is not fair that she will inherit the throne for no reason other than her ability to control all six elements; I am the eldest. That throne is rightfully mine. 

***

Andralyn's coronation is tomorrow. Her wedding is now. I stand beside her, a bouquet of some hideous yellow flower in my hand. Mother sits in the front row, a kerchief to her lips, while Father's arm is around her shoulders. 

I do not know why Andralyn chose me as her maid of honour; expected perhaps? We hardly ever spend time together. 

The priest says those four words and it takes all of my will power to keep the smile on my face. What makes her more important than me?

***

The three moons form a triangle in the sky tonight. Their light reflects off the blade of the dagger twirling between my fingers. 

Mother and Father are across the castle in the West Wing, their new home. The newlyweds are in their new suite in the main part of the castle. My room will always be located here in the East Wing; unless I do something about it. 

I look down and drag the dagger across my pointer, lightly pressing into the pad. It would be simple.

The hedge maze is dark below my balcony, and I trace the path through the thick green leaves with my eyes. This cannot be allowed to happen. That throne is mine. 

I step back from the railing and walk into my room, grabbing the lit candle holder off my bedside table. No one should be awake at this hour. 

I open the door to my bedroom, glancing down the hallway, but it is empty, and shall remain that way for many more years. I walk down the hall and stairs, my bare feet making little sound against the stone. I slowly push open the door to the main part of the castle, peeking around it. The hall is dark and no light shines from beneath any of the doors. 

The door creaks as I close it behind me and I cringe, staring at the door to the maids quarters across the way. I can feel my heart pounding against my ribs as I click the door shut behind me. 

I tip toe pass the maids quarters to the door at the end of the hall. I glance behind me before slowly pushing this door open and slipping through. Darkness greets me again and I ascend the stairs. 

I take a deep breath and clench my fist around the hilt. I place my candle on the floor before I open the door in front of me. The hallways is dark, the only light coming from the moons peeking into the windows. I go to the middle of the three doors and stop in front of it. There will be no going back. 

A grin takes over my lips. Finally the throne will be mine.

I grab the knob and twist, slowly pushing it open. The curtains around their canopy bed are pulled back, his back bared to me with his arm thrown across her body. The covers are bunched around their waists and I wrinkle my nose; I didn't realize he was so hairy. 

I step forward and gently close the door. I tip toe around their clothes as I make my way to his side. I peek over at his face just as he snores. God why did she choose him?

I place my hand over his mouth and nose before swiping the dagger across his throat. His blue eyes snap open and look up at me, wide, and I press my hand tighter to his face. I watch the blood pour from his neck onto the sheets and my sister's hair, waiting for him to go limp. He doesn't even try and fight me, or bring his arm up to mine. Instead he tries to curl closer to Andralyn. Pathetic. 

I take my hand away once he goes limp and walk around to the other side of the bed. Even in danger my sister still sleeps soundly. I twist the dagger to make it easier before I do the same to her.

"Sorry, sister," I mutter when her grey eyes just like mine open wide. "You will not be allowed to take my place."

She tries to twist her head out of my grasp, causing more blood to squirt onto the sheets. She stares up at me as if she's trying to get me to pull away and save her. I watch her and wait. 

I step back and wipe the dagger on my nightgown. I stand beside the bed and watch them, making sure they're still. When I can see the bottom moon through the window I press a finger to my sister's pulse. Nothing. 

I grin. The throne is mine. I turn and leave their room, heading back the same way, my candle now half burnt. I make sure everything is back to as it was before on my journey back to my room. I place my candle on my bedside table before I walk out to my balcony again. 

***

Mother is inconsolable and I give up trying a month after Andralyn's funeral. Father has finally stopped pushing back my coronation, and tonight I'll be marrying the second eldest son of Father's right hand man. Not my choice, but Mother said he'll protect me; not that it matters.

At my wedding, Mother is weeping uncontrollably and Father is stoic. I had thought they would be happy for me; after all I am still their daughter. 

***

Mother passed a week after my coronation, poison, and I know she killed herself. Father stops instructing me after that, but I take over; I knew enough by then. 

A month after Mother, Father dies; same method. 

At both funerals I acted appropriately; shed tears, accepted condolences, but I could not say I was particularly sad. Finally, this kingdom was mine. 

***

Right now is the only time I regret my actions. I just gave birth to a son, but the only one in the chamber with me was the midwife. My husband is out at sea with the army; I do not know if he will return. 

I look into the blue eyes of my son and I realize how alone I have been. But as he latches onto my finger I cannot dwell on the past. I got a son, and this kingdom will be his. 

Day 26 & 27: May 28 & 29

I'm not doing too well at the end of the month here..

Challenge: the story must involve a scroll in the beginning.

My father is King here in Trydith. Well, he believes he's my father; but it's not so. No matter how much I wish it. You see, 17 years ago—before I was born—Mother strayed from Father. It was one night, but it did enough damage. If people knew.

My biological father is Father's younger brother, Devlen. He knows, but does he treat me like his daughter? No. Mother says it's to keep up appearances; I know it's because he wishes I was male.

"Aurelia?"

I look up from the scroll I was trying to read in the library and smile at Father. Just because he didn't sire me doesn't mean I don't think of him as my father. "Yes, Father?"

He smiles at me, his citrine eyes lighting up. "I thought you had left with your mother," he says as he takes a seat in the chair beside me.

"Left with her where?" I ask. I didn't know Mother was leaving.

Father's charcoal eyebrows knit together. "She told me the two of you were heading to Etilac to see your Aunt Carlynne."

I raise an eyebrow. Since when did Aunt Carlynne live in Etilac? I only know one person—right. I try and smile even though I can't believe it was still happening. "I wanted to finish my training before Tito left."

Father beams at me, his beard stretching over his lips. "You never cease to impress me, Aurelia."

My smile becomes real. "You know I love practicing."

"Practicing, yes, but you still keep up with the theoretical aspect and that plays a big part in understanding and controlling your powers."

I nod even though I've heard this many times before.

Father claps my shoulder. "I'll leave you to it, sweetie," he says and presses a kiss to my hair. "Don't forget about dinner," he stands and makes his way out.

I watch him leave before turning back to the scroll with a sigh. Even though I've caught them plenty of times and threatened to tell Father, they still sneak off like teenagers.

I stare at the word "king" on the scroll. Watching it blur as I think about Mother and Devlen. Perhaps it's time I tell Father. he deserves to know. And maybe this would get rid of Mother for good; it's not like she acts like a proper queen or mother anyway.

I nod to the scroll. I'll tell Father at dinner.

*I didn't end up writing anything new today; I was in an editing mood. Instead I just fixed up this one, added a bit more here and there. Hope you liked it! Let's hope I can continue for the last few days here in May.*

Day 23: May 25

Missed another day. Oops! Today's challenge wasn't brought about by Seventh Sanctum, it's something that I'm using for something else. It's backstory; but it turns out that I found a challenge that worked!
Challenge: the story must have an elf in it.

I was born in Eroadia, on the island of Thelabaen. It sits off the south western shore of Onardoth, a small, island continent in the Jeradien Sea. I’ve lived here my whole life. I’ve lived with my parents in the same cottage near the docks.

Oh, and I’m a half-elf, and today, I’m finally leaving.

Years ago, when the Gods and Goddesses created our world, they created many others. The fabric between ours and another, the realm of the elementals, has become weak. Instead of the few that would travel to our world, Onardoth has been getting them in swarms. It is as the priestess foretold all those years ago.

“Ready, Ereacia?” My brother, Daomos, says as he straps his chest plate on.

I nod as I sheath my two swords on my back. “Are you, Daomos?”

He laughs. “I’ve been waiting for this day to come.”

Mother rolls her eyes as she hands me two small daggers. “Be careful.”

I smile while Daomos scoffs.

“You’ve said this every day for months, Mother, we’ll be fine,” Daomos says.

“I worry about my children,” she says.

“I’ll look after him,” I say and she smiles at me.

“Now go,” she waves to the door. “And do what you can to sew the fabric.”

Daomos groans, “Mother.”

I laugh. “We’ll be fine.”

Mother pats my cheek and grabs Daomos’ chin, pulling his face towards hers. She pecks him on the cheek before doing the same to me. “I love you.”

“I love you too mom,” I say and Daomos mumbles it. I grab Daomos’ arm and pull him out of the house.

In front of our house stand our four friends, armed to the teeth and bags thrown over their shoulders. The street around us is full of others around our age, swords in hands, ready to face the battle that awaits us across the Sea.

“Boats leaving in ten,” Foiclya says and gestures her head towards the docks we can see between a couple of houses.

I nod and Daomos grins.

“Let’s go,” Daomos says. “It’s about time we live, eh?”

I laugh. “You’ve always wanted an adventure.”

“And now we’re getting one,” Foiclya says and skips forward, linking her arm with mine. “About time too,” she starts dragging me towards the docks.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Daomos says. 

*I hope you enjoyed. It was nice to finally write this. And it gave me more information into what's happening in this world I've created.*

Day 18: May 20 & Day 21: May 23

You'll notice that I missed a few days. Shit happens!

Continuation from Day 17.

Junette raised an eyebrow. “You swam?”

The girl nodded and something splashed near the boat.

Junette straightened up on her knees. Her eyes widened again as the scales she had seen around the girls belly button led to a fish tail lazily floating at the surface.

The girl giggled and Junette looked up at her eyes, watching them swirl between fuchsia and teal. “It’s like this is your first time seeing me.”

“It is,” Junette answered, studying the silver circlet on the girl’s forehead.

“Oh, Juney,” she smiled sadly at Junette.

Junette blinked. “How do you know my name?”

“You really have forgotten,” the girl said.

*This is where I got to on the 20th. Not very impressive. I finished this little segment today, though.*

“We’ve met before?” Junette asked.

The girl sighed. “I had hopes that they wouldn’t wipe your memories,” she said.

“Who would do that?”

The girl smiled sadly. “Usually the parents of the girls we approach.”

Junette’s mind was running through her memories, trying to see if she remembered her family acting odd.

“They tend to erase all memories associated with us,” the girl explained. “They want you to forget, and hope by doing that we won’t approach you again. Most times, the family leaves the area all together and heads as far away from water as they can.” She giggled. “I’m surprised your family didn’t do the same.”

“Father is the sheriff,” Junette said.

The girl nodded before she turned around, hearing something Junette couldn’t.

Junette leaned to the side and searched the water, but it appeared empty. She looked back to the girl to see she was smiling at her.

“Time to go,” she said and grabbed Junette’s arm, tugging her over the back of the seat.

“Wait, wait,” Junette tried to pull her arm back. “Go where?”

“Your new home, of course,” the girl laughed and slipped off the boat, tugging Junette into the water with her.

Junette broke the surface and gasped for breath.

The girl placed her hands on Junette’s face, feeling her treading water in front of her. “This may tingle,” she said.

“Wait,” Junette grabbed the girl’s wrists as they started glowing light lavender. She sucked in a breath as warmth spread through her face and started to travel along her veins. Her body started to tingle as if goosebumps were spreading up her arms and legs. The light travelled from the girl’s hands into Junette’s face, following the same path as the warmth. When it reached her toes, Junette’s body soaked up the light.

The girl took her hands away and swam back a little. She winced when Junette started screaming. She looked around her, making sure no humans were in the area.

The glow started to fade and Junette stopped screaming, a sob coming through her lips as her head drooped. The girl swam forward and caught her when it looked like she was going to sink.

Junette blinked a few times before lifting her head. “What happened?” Her voice was rough.

The girl giggled and swept her tail over Junette’s. “Ready to go home?”

Junette looked down and her eyes widened. She quickly crossed her arms over her now naked chest before looking even further, to the violet scales that now covered her fish tail, the same length and width as the girl’s in front of her.

The girl grabbed Junette’s hand. “Everything will work out,” she said. “Trust me.”

Junette looked up at her. She searched the swirling eyes and, for a reason she didn’t understand, she nodded.

The girl grinned and turned, diving into the water. She tugged Junette down into the water with her, interlocking their fingers. 

Day 17: May 19

Challenge: the story starts on a lake.

Junette Baddock leaned back on her father's boat, stretching her arms across the seat at the stern. Around the boat was the clear blue water of Swyn Lake, waves gently licking at the side of the boat. It sat near the middle, no houses or shores in sight, only the tall cliffs on the port and starboard sides that reached for the sun.

Junette tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the rays bathe her. A towel was flung over the driver seat, a book sitting on the seat.

Humming echoed around her and Junette opened her eyes. She lifted her head and looked around. The lake was void of others, a gentle breeze whispering through the trees and across the lake.

Junette shook her head and closed her eyes again.

A giggle rang through her ears.

Junette snapped her head up and opened her eyes, whipping her head back and forth.

Another giggle and she turned around in her seat. Her eyes widened upon the violet haired girl sitting on the back of the boat.

"Um, hello?" Junette twisted to sit on her knees.

"Hi," the girl chirped.

Junette ran her eyes down the girls body, over the hair covering her breast to the scales she could see around her belly button. "How did you get here?"

"I swam of course," the girl started twisting a strand of hair around her finger.

*Just a short one today. But it's kind of cute.*

Day 16: May 18

Challenge: during the story, someone's method of transportation breaks down.

It was their annual camping trip. A time where it was just the family, together, for an entire weekend.

The father, Torrence, had the motor home packed and ready by 8 in the morning. The mother, Elladine, had her high school trumpet to her lips by 8:30. The youngest, Kiley, was up and in the shower by 8:35. The twins, Jayme and Jeth, were pounding on the door by 8:45. The oldest, Leighton, rolled out of bed at 9:15.

It was 10 by the time they were pulling out of the driveway.

Torrence cranked the country station as they pulled out of their neighbourhood. Elladine immediately turned it back down and started a running commentary of this new campsite in the middle of nowhere off a dirt road. Kiley, 14, was curled on the couch with a manga book open. Jayme and Jeth, 15, had their Magic cards out on the table. Leighton, 16, was stretched out on the other side of the couch, ball cap pulled down over his eyes as he snored.

"No cell service?" Kiley asked 2 hours later, looking up from her manga with wide eyes.

"That's right," Elladine said. "You kids are on those things enough; this is family time."

Kiley let out a strangled laugh. "I'm going to die of boredom."

"Kiley," Elladine said before grabbing the dash as Torrence turned onto the dirt road. "Don't be dramatic."

Leighton snorted. "Kiley thrives on dramatics."

The motor home jerked and Torrence let off the gas, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he tried to straighten it out. It lurched again and he pressed on the brake, pulling over.

"Torrence?" Elladine asked.

The kids all looked forward, their activities forgotten.

Torrence looked at Elladine and tried to smile. He opened his door and stepped out. He flicked the button to open the hood before shutting his door.

Elladine pulled out her cell as Torrence lifted the hood and propped it open. She lifted her cell towards the roof of the car, waited, then rolled the window down and held it outside.

"Mom?" Kiley asked.

"No cell service," Elladine sighed and thumped her head on the head rest.

*This was fun to write! The prompt made me think of the Rocky Horror Picture Show and I wanted to play around with the idea of being stranded.*

Day 15: May 17

Challenge: the story takes place at midnight exactly.

It's the time I was born, and the time when everything significant happens in my life. It was the time my mother succumbed to the tumor in her brain when I was 10. It was the time my father left for the bar the night he never returned; I still don't know what happened to him.

Tonight is my 18th birthday, and something in my gut is telling me it'll be a night to remember.

The house is dark when I pull up, just as I left it. I press the button and the garage door opens. The mortgage was paid off two years after mom, and two years before dad started his nightly bar hopping. I was 15 then and already had my first job as a hostess at the family restaurant down the street. I'm still there 3 years later.

I unlock the door to the house, a precaution I've kept since dad disappeared. I close the garage door the lock the one leading inside. I flick on the light to the hallway, toeing off my shoes. I glance at the clock hanging by the door; five minutes.

I hang my coat and purse on the hook under the clock before heading towards the living room at the end of the hall. I grab the remote I left on the arm of the couch and switch on the TV. I head to the left and up the few stairs to the kitchen. I grab a coca-cola from the fridge before going back to the couch and stretching out on it.

As the grandfather clock mom had bought years ago chimes from the front room, my temples start pounding. I close my eyes and images start to dance in my mind. Whispers follow and I try to hear the words but they don't make sense. Snippets of sentences come through but I can't piece them together. The images start moving faster and I might have groaned as the pounding increases. I press my palms to my temple, rubbing circles into my flesh. It doesn't help. My entire head starts to throb and I move my hands to my eyes, pressing them hard. A rush of sound echoes in my ears before the darkness reins.

*A short one today, but this idea has been swimming in my head for a while and I thought I'd play with an idea that would be the start to this story. It's not bad. *

Day 14: May 16

Challenge: the story ends atop a tree.

There's a story in my village about a creature that lives in the canopy of the emlwor trees. The thing that makes these creatures different from the small, winged tandeltins that live in the canopies is the wings; they don't have any. Nobody knows the name of these creatures, or what they look like; it's been a century since anyone has seen these creatures. We only have rumours passed down through the generations. But we know they still exist; they're still feeding off us.

Two days ago, my sister's newborn daughter was taken in the dead of night. The only thing left behind were the claw marks in the wall. The only thing we have to go on to know these creatures exist.

That day, my brother-in-law gathered every man that was willing to hunt these creatures. But it didn't stay a group of men. Ten women followed me to the meeting place where he was waiting with the fifteen men he had gathered. He took one look at the faces of the women behind me, and nodded. This mission was personal. It didn't matter if we had never held a sword or shot a bow before. Sometimes, the strength of will is greater than the strength of arms.

Now, we sit in the camp nestled in the giant roots of the emlwor trees. Some of the men don't believe we should be here. It doesn't matter how many of them we fight and come out the victor; to them, battle is for men. But we will show them; we will prove, for how ever long it takes, that we have the right to be here. We can be fighters just like them.

As I sit here, I wonder if we've come across these creatures without knowing it. The past couple of nights around the fires have been spent telling tales of the creature, each one of use giving our family's version of the story. There is only one thing we all agree on: it has no wings.

*Short today, but this one was interesting and I edited it quite a few times to get it to read how I wanted it to read. It's a fun little story, though.*

Day 13: May 15

Challenge: the story must have an air-spirit in it.

Rinya Silva pulled the faded black hood of her cloak tighter around her neck. The rain continued to pound on the cobbled streets of the kingdom and the dark clouds doused the streets in shade making it hard for her to see the merchant across the way. She squinted her deep maroon eyes, waiting for the next customer to catch his attention.

She clenched her fist around the fabric at her neck, her knuckles turning white. She did a quick scan of the street as a woman grabbed the attention of the merchant. Rinya slipped out of the alley and snuck across the street. Her other hand snatched a loaf of bread in the blink of any eye. She tucked it under her cloak and continued down the street, away from the arguing merchant talking of an increase in taxes.

Rinya grinned and clutched the loaf to her chest. The crowd thinned as she walked towards the clump of dark awo trees that sat within the walls of the kingdom. They stood tall at the south eastern edge, and it was the place she called home.

Rinya glanced behind her before she pushed aside a branch and crept into the shadows of the awo. The rain was much lighter, drenching the canopy and trickling down the trunks. She stopped and blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darker area.

The trees rustled around her, leaves crunching under something making its way towards her.

"Who dares?" A hissing voice slithered from between the branches.

"It is just I, Ethiremma," Rinya said as her eyes adjusted. She turned to her left and smiled at the light yellow scaled face of Ethiremma.

Ethiremma smiled, revealing sharp white teeth, a sight that has scared the strongest of me. "Did you find some food, Rinya?"

Rinya stepped over a long, heading towards her. "A loaf of bread. It'll last me a couple of days."

Ethiremma sighed and turned her snake-like body to follow Rinya into the trees. Standing at six feet, she towered over Rinya's five-foot-five frame. Her tail trailed behind her a good three feet, her human-shaped torso leading to it a foot above the ground. Her four-finger hands ended in sharp claws, but Rinya reached back and grabbed one, linking their fingers.

"Tesien is worried," Ethiremma started. She stopped and looked at their joined hands. A small smile crept over her thin ruby lips. "We all worry."

Rinya looked over at her and smiled. "I'm fine, Ethiremma. I am alive, am I not?"

Ethiremma sighed. She grabbed a branch that had a gold seal painted delicately into a few of the awo needles and pulled it aside. They stepped through a shimmer of green and into a circular clearing. It sloped down into the soil, roots twisting along the hills leading down. The trees reached towards each other over the centre, protecting this home from the outside elements. Under the roots were doors leading to the homes built into the soil.

Rinya and Ethiremma started the walk down the foot path carved by one of Ethiremma's kind. The clearing held twenty creatures of all kinds living together; though Rinya was the only human.

"Rinya, there you are," a squeaky voice came from her right.

Rinya looked over and smiled The creature was small, barely bigger than her forearm and pure white. "Tesien, I just went for food. You knew that."

Tesien landed on her shoulder, tucking his wings down his back. His wings doubled the width of his arm span, three on each side similar to those of a dragonfly. "You were gone longer than normal," Tesien said and pulled on the hood, revealing her long turquoise hair.

"Something is happening in the kingdom," Rinya said as they reached the bottom of the clearing. "And it was raining."

"The kingdom?" Ethiremma asked. "Nothing good has ever come from those humans." She spat the last word as if it left a foul taste in her mouth.

"Ethiremma," Rinya said. The creatures all turned to her.

"Not you, dear," Ethiremma said.

*This is where I left off. Longer than most of my other ones in a day. I'm enjoying these characters I've created and this might end up turning into something longer. Thanks for reading!*

Day 11 & 12: May 13 & 14

Challenge: the story takes place in the early evening.

The sun glints off the snow and into Grandfather's office. The silver pens he has situated on the oak desk reflect the light into my eyes.

I bite my lip as I step into his office. For as long as I can remember this place has been off limits, but this is the only place in the house that holds the answers. I glance behind me before I head to the desk. I kneel to the left of the chair and pull on the handle of the bottom drawer. It creaks and I look to the doorway. Even though no one's home I feel like they'll walk in at any second.

I take a deep breath and open the drawer all the way. There, sitting by itself, is the journal many of my ancestors have cataloged their lives in. But there's only one I want to know the full story of: Kenyon Ernst.

I start to reach for it as the garage door starts it trek open. I curse and close the drawer before standing. I tip-toe out of the room as quickly as I can, taking a last look around to make sure everything is as it should be. I'll come back later once Father has drunk himself into a stupor and Grandfather has taken his sleeping pills.

*That's all I got on May 13; just one handwritten page. What follows is May 14.*

I sneak down the hallway, pass the only photo of Grandmother, and into the kitchen. I run across the tile and slide onto a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen. I grab the mug I had placed there earlier when I had been working up the courage to go into Grandfather's office.

"Lyndel?" Father's voice comes from his office on the opposite side of the house from Grandfather's, tucked under the stairs and near the garage. The place he sleeps and makes a quick getaway into his Aston Martin.

"Kitchen," I call back. "Want a cup of tea?" I drain the last gulp of my cold tea and stand.

"I'm going to need something stronger than that," Father says and I hear his shoes squeak on the tile of the kitchen.

I sigh and walk around the island to the electric kettle sitting beside the sink. I fill it again and plug it in before turning to Father.

"Nothing like a good scotch," he says and knocks back the tumbler he had just filled.

I sigh again and watch him pour another couple of fingers into the glass. "Isn't it a little early?"

Father scoffs. "After a day like today I'm going to need an entire bottle."

I wince. "Oh?"

Father slams the glass on the counter after downing the contents. "I am grateful every day you're not like your godforsaken mother," he grounds out from between his teeth. He slides the tumbler towards the sink.

I wince as the glass catches the lip of the sink and shatters against the stainless steel. The kettle starts to whistle and I pull the plug as Father grabs the bottle and storms out, most likely heading back the way he came. Another wince as the door slams and I open the cupboard above my head. I grab a bag of Earl Grey and drop it in my cup, pouring the steaming water over it. I'll never understand why Mother can't leave Father alone.

*Not as much as other days but I quite like Lyndel and might play around with her more. Maybe even build this into something!*

Day 8, 9, & 10: May 10, 11, & 12

Challenge: the story must have a bracelet in it.

I stare at him from across the cafeteria. His blond hair looks like it's reflecting the sunlight, and I feel like I'm quoting a romance novel in my head.

"You're staring again, Rosalyn," my best friend, Oberon, says and takes a bite of his giant roast beef sandwich. I'm surprised he can fit it in his mouth.

I laugh. "No I'm not."

Oberon rolls his eyes. "I don't know what you see in him, anyway." Another bite. "He leads on every girl in the school, leaving fights in his wake."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "You do know he doesn't even know I exist."

"Which is why this fascination you have with him is ridiculous." Another bite and the sandwich is half gone.

"I'm not fascinated by Roy," I say.

"Obsessed, whatever," Oberon says before I can continue.

I narrow my eyes. "No, I was just trying to figure out why every girl here thinks he's amazing."

Oberon gives me a look. "Keep trying to convince me; I'm sure it'll happen."

I sigh and place my elbows on the table, leaning my head in my hands. I look down at my paper bag lunch and wrinkle my nose. I'm sure I'll be giving the remainder of my meager lunch to Oberon.

"Keep eating," he says. "You've barely touched your lunch and you already eat less than a bird."

I wrinkle my nose again.

"Rosalyn."

*This is where I stopped on May 10. May 11 follows.*

I glance at him from the corner of my eyes, watching a strand of his black hair stray close to his mouth. It doesn't follow the remainder of his sandwich into the dark cavern of his mouth, surprisingly, but it does get caught on his lips as he chews.

Oberon reaches across and picks up my half eaten granola bar, waving it in my face.

I smack his hand away. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Rosalyn."

I turn my gaze to the brown paper bag on its side in front of me. I scowl at it.

"This is not healthy," Oberon says.

I sigh and bring my right wrist to my neck, scratching it with my silver medic alert bracelet.

"Just finish the granola bar and I'll eat the rest," he says quietly.

His hand is still holding the bar out to me even though he's looking off to the side. I follow the direction he's facing to see my step-sister, Morena, sitting in her pink-top glory surrounded by her friends.

I take the bar from his hands causing him to face me. He smiles when I take a bite.

"I only want you to be healthy, Rosie," he says and grabs the bag, pulling out the apple.

I smile back. "I'm trying."

Oberon nods and turns back to watch Morena.

*This is where I stopped on May 11. May 12 follows.*

I finish off the granola bar before I sneak another glance at Roy. He's now lip-locked with Anallise, the captain of the girls basketball team. Of course the two captains would be dating; it's what's expected in high school.

I sigh and turn to Oberon who has the apple pressed against his lips. I look to Morena and snort. She's applying her lip gloss meticulously, putting on a show for the males that constantly surround her. I'm not sure why; she's not exactly "attractive" or nice. Though I might be a bit biased; she's always a bitch to my father.

I slap Oberon on the shoulder. He jumps and turns to me. I laugh. "You're drooling."

He quickly presses his hand to his mouth to wipe it away.

"Why don't you go talk to her? You actually have a shot," I say.

"You know damn well she won't consider me; we're friends," he gestures between us. "It's common knowledge that she hates you."

I bite my lip.

"Besides," he continues as if he doesn't realize how much that statement hurt. "She's too much of a bitch."

I laugh.

Oberon grins. "You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

I sigh. "Damn."

He pushes my shoulder and I laugh again. He holds out the apple to me.

"I'm not-"

"Eat half of it," he says.

I take the apple and bite into it.

"We'll get through this like we do everything else," he says. "By my pestering you until you cave."

I smile at him and take another bite. That's one way of saying "together".

*I'll try and get back to my routine of one a day!*

Day 6 & 7: May 8 & 9

Here are the last two days. They are both a continuation of Day 5's challenge.

I can feel Mother's glare on my face. "I still remember when Aunt Lorrayne first showed it to me. I was 14. You know the age where you need to be "in" with the popular group?" I can see some people nod and I wonder if they've forgotten, just for this moment, where we are. "I'm pretty sure my face was shocked; maybe even disgusted. But when she explained why she made it, I remember smiling and promising her I would wear it. Today is the first day I've broken a promise to either of my aunts."

Mother shifts uncomfortably. I smile at her. "But I guess it is a funeral, so I should follow tradition and wear black." I scoff. "Tradition. The only tradition in our family is Thursday night dinners." I shake my head. "Why is it important to uphold this tradition and go against the wishes of my aunt?"

I scan the faces and out of the corner of my eye I see the Minister cross his arms over his chest. The crowd looks confused as if they don't understand why I'm saying these things.

Mother starts to stand.

"I guess the last wishes of a beloved family member mean nothing when faced with society's norm." I scoff again. "The way other people view us is apparently more important than my aunt's last wishes."

Mother is standing and walking up to me.

"I had wanted this day to be about Aunt Lorrayne; she's the one that died, not us."

*This is where I stopped on May 8. What follows is from today, May 9.*

I take a deep breath and look Mother in the eye as she continues towards me. "Sometimes you have to accept that what you want to do isn't what you should do."

Mother grips my arm and pushes me away from the microphone. Her grip tightens as she giggles. "Sorry, everyone. Jenica hasn't had her medication yet."

I narrow my eyes. But really, what was I expecting?

I shake off her grip and storm down the aisle between the bleachers.

"Jenica, you need to pay your respects," Mother's voice is sharp and grating in my ears.

"I did, bitch," I say and push open the doors to the room, striding down the floral wallpapered hall. The doors bang shut behind me and I don't think I've ever heard such a wonderful sound before.

As I pass the workers, I feel as if they're whispering behind my backs like they're appalled that I would storm out.

I roll my eyes at myself as I push the front doors open and step into the afternoon sun.

Again with the dramatics, Aunt Lorrayne used to say.

I laugh and start the walk home. That was the last thing on my "to do list before I leave": speak my mind to Mother. It wasn't the way I pictured it going but it'll do. After all, it's not like I'll be seeing her again.

*The first challenge I've finished! Hopefully I can add more to that list soon.*

Day 5: May 7

Challenge: the story is set during a funeral

I sat in the second row, staring at the back of my Aunt Loleta's permed, ginger head. If I tilted my head slightly to the left I could see the bouquet of gardenias clutched in the white, wrinkled fingers of Aunt Lorrayne.

Mother smacks my knee with her black silk gloves she's clenching in her fist. I straighten and look back at the droning Minister.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep in my scowl. He's talking about Aunt Lorrayne as if he knew her when this fool only looks thirty. He spoke earlier of her love of T.S. Elliot and Journey; as if he had been the one she introduced them to when he was still in diapers.

I look to Aunt Loleta and I see the muscles in her right arm flexing as she clenches her hand into a fist. She, just like I, knew Aunt Lorrayne wouldn't have wanted us to sit here in black with netting covering our faces.

I look down at my polyester covered knees and pick at the fabric of my cheap dress. Aunt Lorrayne always said it made me paler than normal and should I ever be caught in it again she would smack some sense into me.

I smile before another whack to my knees has me looking up. The Minister is staring at me with a gentle smile and Aunt Loleta is turned in her seat to face me.

"Get up, Jenica," Mother hisses at me and I realize it's my turn to speak.

I stand and smooth my dress, sneaking by Mother to the podium. The Minister steps aside and I look over the crowd of sombre faces. I stop at Aunt Loleta and she gives me a smile and a barely noticeable nod.

I clear my throat and smile at the crowd. I can hear sniffles every now and again and I almost roll my eyes. "I woke up this morning, prepared to put on the dress Aunt Lorrayne made for me with this day in mind," I start. I see Mother shift out of the corner of my eyes. "It's light green, and she had asked me to wear it because she hated when I wore black." I look at Mother. "Mother wouldn't allow me to leave the house with that "monstrosity" on."

People look at each other and shift nervously.

*Sorry for the late and short post. Today was a strange day. Tomorrow will hopefully bring this story to a conclusion; I'd like to see how it's going to end.*

Day 4: May 6

Challenge: the story takes place mid-winter.
I felt like writing a poem today so I decided to generate another challenge instead of continuing yesterday's.

Alberta Snow

It crunched underfoot
like brittle bones
snapping under pressure.
I knew it wasn't fake
but the chomp
still echoes in my ears,
shudders still race
through my nerves,
even under the blinding
heat of springtime sun.

Day 3: May 5

Challenge: a character attacks someone.

The Bruckner family reunion was always held on the family ranch, about 30 kilometres east of Saskatoon, on the tenth of August. Every year the Bruckner's would fly in to Saskatoon and every year Zacharie would make the multiple trips to the airport while his partner, Caddric, would use his culinary skills Zacharie was still amazed by 20 years later to start the feast.

This year was Caddric's 40th birthday and Zacharie was planning for tonight to be a celebration with the family.

Standing against his green Silverado outside the arrivals, Zacharie crossed his arms. The first group was landing in 5 minutes. His older brother, Thedrick, and his family always arrived first. Thedrick was the middle child and still hadn't accepted that Zacharie was gay.

The doors opened and out stepped Thedrick and his family. "Zachy!"

Zacharie smiled as Thedrick's wife, Wynn, smacked the back of Thedrick's head. Wynn was the nicest woman Zacharie had ever met, her hazel eyes always gentle and understanding. Zacharie didn't understand why she settled for Thedrick. "Hey Theddy, Wynn," Zacharie waved.

Thedrick wrinkled his nose as Wynn threw her arms around Zacharie's neck. A small body attached itself to Zacharie's leg and he spotted the chestnut hair of his youngest niece, Melania. Wynn stepped back and Zacharie bent down, hoisting Melania up onto his hip. "How's my favourite princess?"

"Hey!" Dorothee said from her place beside her brother, Charley. She had a smile on her face and Zacharie opened his other arm. She ran forward and wrapped her arms around him.

"Don't worry, Dee," Zacharie said. "You'll always be my number one girl."

Dorothee giggled as Wynn said, "What about me?"

"You're my number one woman," Zacharie winked and Wynn laughed.

"Charley," Zacharie put Melania back on the ground. "Do I get a hug from you?"

Charley grinned and took a step. Thedrick stopped him by grabbing the back of his collar.

Wynn reached over and grabbed Thedrick's wrist, digging her manicured nails into his skin. Zacharie beamed as Charley pulled out of his father's grip and ran into his arms.

"I've missed you, Uncle Zach," Charley whispered into Zacharie's ear.

Zacharie tightened his arms. "I've missed you too, buddy."

*This isn't finished; it's just what I wrote in the hour.*

Day 1 & 2: May 3 & 4

Challenge: the story must involve a stained glass window.

My village of Atel'e is a village of generations. Only four families live here; the Van doren's, the Lauritsen's, the Tronick's, and my family, the Schodek's. Our village is situated in a small valley between the two most northern mountains in the Th'quaia Mountains.

One hundred years ago—at the start of the Great War between our country, Ryn'ver, and our neighbour to the south, Tan'on—our ancestors headed north out of Ad'rilu, the capital. They settled here, and built a home hidden in the mountains. The village worked together back then, but now, everyone is at each others throats.

***

The front door to our farmhouse slams, signaling Father has returned from speaking with Asher Lauritsen, the pastor at the church. Lately it seems like the Lauritsen's have been trying to drive us out of Atel'e. I think it's my fault.

"Melita!" Father yells and I hop up from my spot on the window seat in my room and run down the hallway to look over the banister.

"Father?" I try to smile but it feels strained.

Father looks up and smiles, but his too looks strained. "It's true, isn't it?"

I bite my lip. "Perhaps?" I flinch when he scowls.

"You're doing more than studying with Glori," he states.

"Father," I start.

"No, Melita!" He shouts and starts up the stairs. I'm surprised Aunt Nanete isn't running out to see the commotion. "If you two continue to use magic, you'll alert our position to other magic users in the area."

I roll my eyes as he grabs my shoulders. "Father, our ancestors put a strong protection spell around our village and it still stands. Only those who seek refuge can find our village."

A horn echoes into the house and the grips on my shoulders tighten.

"You better be right, Melita," he says. "Grab your sword," he pushes me towards my room. "Nanete! Boys! Grab your swords," he yells as I run to my room.

I grab my sword that's propped against my bed and unsheathe it. I almost run into Aron as I leave and he grins at me, his gold eyes shining. 

"Ready sis?" He asks as he slings an arm over my shoulder and leads me down the hallway. 

He stands a good head taller than me and I poke his ribs. "You look out of shape, brother," I say.

My other brother, Tynan, laughs from behind us and his arm slings over top of Aron's across my shoulders. "You're not much better, Melita."

I laugh and pull away from them as we leave the house. 

*This is where I stopped on May 3, since I'm only writing for about an hour each day.*

May 4 is a continuation from above.

The late afternoon sun reflects off the stained glass portrait of Iwara that's displayed on our front door and into my eyes. The entire village is just ahead near the tavern. Two strange men stand before them with their hands up.

Aron rushes pass me and I'm sure there is a childlike grin on his face; he's always been eager to learn about the world outside of our village.

Tynan and I stop beside Aron. Father and Asher are at the head of our "pack". 

"State your business," Asher says. 

The taller man on the left with shaggy, cherry hair takes a step forward only to raise his hands higher when Father and Asher raise their swords. "We heard rumors of a village within these mountains and we merely came to see if those rumors were true."

I can taste the lie bleeding out of his pores and I can't help but snort. I hear Glori do the same a few feet away. 

Asher glances over his shoulder at me with narrowed eyes. 

"It seems you are lying," Father says.

The man on the right is staring at Glori, his amethyst eyes dragging down her body. I narrow my own violet ones at him.

"You seem to have two powerful mages in your midst," cherry-top says.

"And you must be one yourself to be able to detect their powers," Asher says.

Cherry-top scoffs. "Even an amateur could detect their powers."

I laugh. "You're either ignorant or stupid," I say.

"What?"

I gesture around me, "What else can you sense?"

Amethyst-eyes looks at me next and a smile takes over his lips.

"What are you speaking of?" Cherry-top asks.

"In order to sense us, you would need to sense the hundred year-old enchantment that surrounds this town and the spells our mages have cast upon themselves," I explain and notice amethyst-eyes nodding.

"Uh, yes, of course I do," cherry-top stammers.

*I'm sure I'll continue this someday, but that's all for now.*

May Writing Challenge

Since I'm starting a new chapter in my life now that I've finished my university degree, I decided that I needed to find something to keep me writing—I tend to leave it alone and ignore it for a while. I woke up May 3 and decided that I need to challenge myself, and I'm doing so in two different ways.

The first challenge I found was a fitness challenge. I'm lazy, but I wanted to change that. When I found bodyrock.tv, I thought "I can do this!" I've been doing it for three days now. (Only as a beginner.)

The second one I searched for was a writing challenge. There were some interesting ones that I found but what I decided to do is create my own challenges day to day using Seventh Sactum. This gives me free reign to do what I want to. I can generate a new challenge each day or I can continue the one from the day before. I've used two so far and the past challenges will be posted after this. Starting May 6, a new post will be added every day.

Feel free to join me in this challenge! You can leave the link to your challenge in the comments and I'll read them; I always enjoy finding new material to read. Or you can tweet me here.

Other links I use in these challenges and my writing in general:
Last Name Generator (This also has links to other generators that are very handy.)
Fantasy Name Generator (A fantastic link.)