Tag: writing

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXV

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which there is a confrontation with a god of war, and the ritual ends at last.

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Another shake rumbled beneath our feet, but the approaching figure did not stumble. I placed myself between the door and Khalim. We waited, hardly daring to breathe, as the footsteps echoing in the darkened corridor came nearer and nearer. Beyond the arena’s walls, weapons clashed and barricades were shattered as Reva’s miners confronted the city’s soldiers. I prayed to whatever god might be listening that they would be safe, and keep the Ascendeds’ forces from our backs. 

I stood between Jin and Jahan, and each had his sword at the ready. The air hummed and shimmered between their blades. I could almost hear the magic contained within. I felt a lingering fear in the knowledge of the power of these weapons, as much as I was grateful for their presence. If one could kill a god, what would it do to me, should I find myself on the wrong end of it?

Continue reading “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXV” →

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXIV

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which our heroes return to the arena under very different circumstances.

Table of Contents

The city still stood, and was recognizably itself, despite the fires that lit up its streets. Reddish light fell over the plain as the sun rose, casting the landscape in a bloody hue. There was a brief reprieve from the earthquakes, the aftershocks rippling under our feet, but for how long Phyreios would remain standing, I did not know. Aysulu’s horse stood with its legs planted wide, anticipating another shake.

“Oh, no,” Khalim whispered beside me. “No, no, no.”

He must have recognized the horror before him. He had seen it, and walked hundreds of miles to prevent it, and yet there it was, just as it had appeared in his nightmares. 

Continue reading “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXIV” →

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXIII

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which a god appears, and our heroes return to Phyreios for the last time.

Table of Contents

“You must not tarry. Gather your leaders.” 

The person who stood before me was not Khalim. Though his appearance had not changed—I had become accustomed to seeing the light of his magic shine from his eyes—it was clear that he had become someone else. He stood perfectly straight, a warrior’s posture. The voice that came from him was deep and booming. I had heard it earlier that day, when the lance of light had fallen from the sky and turned the assassin who meant to kill me into ash, and I had heard it once before, in the arena. It had stilled the crowd that had nearly overwhelmed Khalim, quieted them into order. I had been bewildered then; now, I was afraid. 

Continue reading “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXIII” →

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXII

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which the battle concludes, and time runs out.

Table of Contents

The being of fire burned a dark path through the brush back toward us. 

“Brace!” I cried, and the shields on either side of me rose up to meet my own. For all the miners’ inexperience, they had risen to the challenge admirably. The flying orbs of fire broke on the wall of shields, and though I felt the heat and smelled scorching hide, nothing caught. That would not be the case for long—the air was dry, and through the smoke I could still see the elemental coming toward us. A spear of ice that glittered in the sun flew from the wall and struck it at its base, and it slowed, its progress obscured by a sudden cloud of steam. 

Continue reading “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXII” →

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Interlude Four

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which the Tribe of the Lion and Wolf attacks, and Aysulu faces Alaric.

Table of Contents

“What,” Aysulu retorted, “are you afraid to fight the women?”

Alaric only sneered up in her direction. It was likely he could not see her over the hoardings. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and drew back her bow, leveling it at his chest. Beside her, Roshani was completing her magic circle, scratching runes into the wooden platform with charcoal and chalk. 

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Love Song in Six Verses: a Star Wars Story

One.

The Force sings to Samara. It has as long as she can remember, like music beneath her hearing, resonating through her body and into the air around her. In the gentle rise and fall of its harmonies, she can sense her fellow students, moving through their drills; the instructor, beyond them, is a still, watchful hum. Through her mask, she can’t see the drones, but she knows where they are, and they dip and bob in the stale air of the temple.

Samara takes a step back and brings her training saber up. The drone’s laser bounces off with a buzz. There’s another student just behind her, who steps easily out of her way. He— she’s almost certain which student this is, a human boy about her age—raises his arms in an overhead block. Samara ducks and shifts her stance into the empty space left by his movement, blocking low and then high, above her face. Two lasers strike the training saber behind her, and her own saber echoes them. 

The Force sings, and Samara falls into it, letting it move her through her forms. She does not need to remember them when her thoughts are only music.

She can sense her fellow student, and he’s just behind her, closer than would be strictly safe, but they do not collide. He moves when she moves, in perfect, glorious harmony.

The instructor claps her hands, and the exercise ends. The soundless music of the Force quiets, but it never goes away. Samara still hears it at the back of her mind; her constant, faithful companion.

She pulls off her mask, untangling the straps from her lekku. The drone is dark and silent now, and she brings it to her hand. It’s faintly warm.

She turns at the same time he does. He’s small for his age, quiet and serious. The mask has tousled his shiny, dark hair. His eyes are a luminous green.

He is familiar, though she has never spoken to him before. She knows him—has always known him.

“I’m Samara,” she says. She holds out a hand.

He takes it, brown fingers over blue. “Iskandar.”

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Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XXI

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which the miners are rescued, and our heroes prepare to withstand an attack.

Table of Contents

The alarm bell echoed from the mine and reverberated through the mountains. It was louder than I had thought possible—or, perhaps, the stillness of the night made it seem so. I shifted my axe to my left hand and took up a javelin in my right. My pulse in my ears was fast and strong. 

The guards beside the tunnel exchanged a look before they dashed into the mine. One took the lantern with him, and the blackness of the night overtook the hillside. From the city, a distant clamor of voices answered the bell, and soon the tramp of booted feet came up the path. 

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Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Interlude Three

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which Khalim searches in the mine for Heishiro, and finds more than he expected.

Table of Contents

At first, Khalim could see nothing. The evening outside had not been bright, but the mine was black as the heart of the earth. The air was thick with dust and smoke that scraped down his throat as he breathed and made his chest burn. Gradually, faint lights swam out of the darkness—sputtering lanterns hanging at regular intervals, each encircled by a ring reflected from the dust in the air. 

It was a dim, filthy, miserable place. The miners, their backs bent and their heads bowed, shuffled down the tunnel under sacks of rock, listless and unheeding. The guards stood straighter, and their eyes were wary, but they were as dirty as the miners they watched. 

I have passed into the realm of the dead, Khalim thought with a shudder. 

Continue reading “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Interlude Three” →

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XIX

Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea cover image: a wide, still river with forested mountain peaks rising on either side, underneath a clouded sky.
In which our heroes arrive at the mountain stronghold, and preparations are made.

Table of Contents

The storm lifted at last before nightfall. I took the horses out of our shelter and tethered them to a twisted tree nearby, under a sky painted in brilliant colors from the dust still in the air. The mountains were black beneath the fiery sunset, and the red plain to the east was stained a bloody hue. From the city to the peak, all was quiet. 

I slept then and did not dream.  Aysulu woke me before sunrise. We struck our camp and gathered our things in the dark, and as one final gesture of spite to the Ascended, I set fire to the chariot. It was against Aysulu’s advice, but I saw no reavers upon the plain, and I took measures to ensure the flames would not spread. We could not take the chariot with us, in any case. 

Continue reading “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XIX” →

Every endless winter

It’s my husband’s birthday today. He said I didn’t have to write anything for it, but I will anyway.

A bearded and long-haired white man wearing a gray suit stands in a messy apartment, reading a folded paper.

I’ve lived in the Midwest all my life, but I’ve never quite felt at home here. Between the interminable winters and the accompanying seasonal depression, the years spent shuttling back and forth from one dormitory to my parents’ house to another, and the mosquitoes that, for some reason, find my blood especially delicious, I spent a good portion of my life feeling unrooted and unwelcome in the land of my birth.

And then I met Kyle. He asked me which of the Canterbury Tales was my favorite, and told me never to trust Mordred Pendragon.

We’ve lived in seven apartments over the course of our relationship. As we went from one long Midwestern winter to another, and packed up our lives year after year, I learned that home isn’t a place.

I’ve learned so many other things as well: about Roman military tactics, the Mongol invasions, American imperialism; how to change a tire on a bicycle; and that it’s possible for someone’s skills and interests to so perfectly complement your own that you can spend hours creating worlds together and the stories to take place in them.

Happy birthday to my handsome, steadfast, brilliant husband; my traveling partner, my historical consultant, and my home through every endless winter. All my words are for you.