As hopefully everybody knows, this month is National November Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), and many wannabe authors (like myself) are wearing their fingers to the bone trying to write 50k+ words of a continuous story by the end of the month. I was a little bit a lot late to the game, thanks to being an active participant in two performances that went into high gear this month, but I plan to catch up, eventually. Also, due to the nature of the NaNoWriMo contest, I just decided to work completely from scratch and just start this story off winging it.
I have no idea how this experiment will turn out. It's unlikely that I'll be the next Christopher Paolini (although I'd kill to be the next Christopher Paolini), and there's the entire possibility that as I post chapters or sections of this story to my blog that things will get wildly out of control or incredibly weird, but that's part of the fun! If you enjoy it, please continue to read, it's all out there for whomever wants it. As for everyone else... I don't plan this to be the only thing I put on here, although hopefully my site will get flooded with novel over the course of this month. That's the goal.
Anyways, here's the experiment!
(Also, small warning, it's likely to be rough, as the main purpose of a NaNoWriMo is to just get the story out on paper, polish is an afterthought)
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“It has been said that all great legends
have small beginnings.”
Yanbar stomped
his feet softly to help keep blood flow up in the frigid morning air. When he
saw the world outside his window coated in white snow and off-blue ice, he
couldn’t help but take to the forest for an early morning adventure. Now, with
his stomach empty and his mind all confused, Yanbar decided that this perhaps
wasn’t the wisest decision he had made in some time.
“Hah! You can’t
fool me.” Yanbar said to a pine as he passed it. “I’ve seen you before. I’m
going in circles, aren’t I? But where are my footprints? Curse this blasted
wind, and curse you for not doing a better job of holding it back.” The tree
leaned forlornly to the right, its tip dipped as if the tree were burdened with
all the cares in the world. Yanbar stopped in front of the tree and sat. “All
right, I’m sorry. I can’t blame you for any of this, you’re just some tree. But
I’m in a real tizzy right now and wouldn’t mind some help, if your good tree
self could drum some up.”
Yanbar knew it
was only in fairy tales that wise old trees communicated with those knowledged
in the language of the forest, but at this point he was willing to believe
anything to get out of the forest and into his warm house, where no doubt
breakfast was getting cold and his mother was about ready to throw a fit.
It was about
this point that Yanbar heard a very nasally laugh come from directly above his
head.
“Eeh hee hee!
Eeh hee! What a foolish boy.” The voice said, a chuckle very evident in his
tone. “Off on his own, and not even a trail of acorns to bring him home. Eeh
hee hee!”
At this point
Yanbar was already on his feet and staring up into the tree, but couldn’t see
much farther than the first branch, given the thickness of the tree’s boughs
and the amount of snow coating and ice coating absolutely everything. “Sir,
please! I’m in need of help!” Yanbar shouted to the trees, hoping he was a
friendly (if strange… what’s he doing in a tree?) man, perhaps a fur trapper,
rather than a mischievous sprite of some sort his mother had warned him about
to keep him away from the forest.
“AAAAGH!” The
nasally voice barked, and the tree began to rustle a bit, shaking snow off onto
the ground. Yanbar heard a series of oofs
and dull thumping noises, before a small and clearly distressed figure dropped
from the tree onto the ground. While the man lay shocked and lightly stunned,
Yanbar observed that he was a very slight, appearing to be almost literally
bone thin in his long fingers and hands. His nose was hook-like and crooked,
swerving to the right as it reached towards his chin. The man was covered in
excessively decorated furs, with trimming and painted symbols and bones and
feathers woven in here and there, and finally he had an enormous hump right in
the middle of his skinny back, so much so that he almost looked to be sitting
up as he lay in the snow. Yanbar couldn’t decide if the hump or the nose was more
distracting.
Presently, the
little man stood up and dusted himself off, carefully eyeing Yanbar and the
area around him. Despite the hump on his back, he stood hunched, knees bent,
standing on the balls of his feet, as if perpetually ready to jump or run away.
He then yelled, “BEAR! LOOK OVER THERE!” pointed behind Yanbar’s head, and took
off in the opposite direction while the startled Yanbar jumped and did exactly
that. The entire episode took only a couple seconds.
Fortunately for
Yanbar, the man seemed ill-equipped for snow travel, and wasn’t moving very
quickly. Yanbar easily caught up with the man and stood in front of him, arms
folded. “I need help escaping the forest. I’m sorry for startling you, but you
really shouldn’t have been hiding out in that tree. Can you help me?”
The little man
glared. “How on earth can ye still see me?”
Yanbar was
puzzled. “What do you mean, how can I see you? There you are, standing in front
of me. You have a long crooked nose, and decorated furs, and a large hump on
your back. It’s as plain as day.”
“Hmmf.” The man
sniffed, appearing to himself. “Must be a little hiccup on Ugg’s part. Appears
he be getting smart.”
“Who is… Ugg?”
Yanbar asked.
The little
man’s eyes bugged out. “It be rude to listen to a man when he be talking to
himself to make a plan! For your bad tendencies to quell, I cast a frog-making
spell!” He wiggled his fingers energetically at Yanbar, and then took off back
in the direction of the tree. Once again, Yanbar easily overtook him and
stopped him, causing the man to nasally squeak and turn white. “Ack! Sorcerer!”
“Sorcerer? I’m
no sorcerer.” Yanbar replied, confused and strongly wondering if he needed to
take this man back to his village to get him some help.
The little man
narrowed his eyes and wiggled his fingers again. He did a little dance, hopping
from foot to foot, and waived his arms, before pointing at Yanbar again.
Nothing happened. Growling, the little man held his hand up so that it faced
the sky, and with a resounding crack!
a bolt of lightning fell from the overcast heavens and into his upturned palm.
Yanbar yelped and fell on his hind end.
“Hmm, no,
that’s not it.” The man shuffled towards Yanbar, and leaned in so close that
their noses nearly touched. Oddly enough, his breath smelled like cinnamon.
“Who be ye master, little lad?”
‘”Thurmgood,
the village blacksmith.” Yanbar said.
“No, no, ye daft…
I mean ye real master, the one who be
protectin’ ye.”
“I have
absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” At this point, given that the
little man had originally seemed completely crazy but then summoned lightning
from the sky, Yanbar decided it was in his best interests to disengage and get
out of the forest by himself. “Um, good day to you, sir.” This time Yanbar was
the one to get up from the snow, dust himself off, and quickly retreat.
“Wait, wait!”
The little man cried as he struggled to catch up with Yanbar. “I be sorry! I
haven’t seen another magician in so long, I thought I was by meself out here.”
“I’m not a
magician!” Yanbar replied, still moving. “I have no idea what you’re talking
about, and now it’s time for me to go home. If I’m lucky, I’ll still be healthy
enough to survive the good beating I’m going to get when I make it back.”
The little man
stopped. “Not a mag- Lad don’t ye be lyin’ to me! No body that ain’t a magician
can brush off one of me spells like that!”
Yanbar stopped
and turned to face the man. “You mean your little finger trick and then that
thing with the lightning?”
“That was no
finger trick, lad, I was going to turn ye into a frog.” The man growled.
“No he wasn’t!”
A little voice piped out. Suddenly, the little man looked panicked.
“What on earth
was that?” Yanbar asked.
“Ack, nothing,
nothing…” The little man patted himself all over, eventually punching a small
bag attached to his belt. Yanbar thought he heard a little oof when it happened, from the new voice, a high one that sounded
like reed pipes, not the nasally one of the small man. The little man
straightened himself as best he could with his hump and smiled. “I be Manu-ehl
Montgumphry, royal magician to the king.”
Yanbar crossed
his arms again. “Sure you are. Because the king’s royal magician would be out
in the middle of nowhere, in an icy tundra just outside of Myshka, a backwards
nothing town. Good for you, sir.”
Yanbar gave an exaggerated bow.
Manu-ehl
deflated. “Well… maybe I be not in the same grace I once been, but the position
still holds until the king finds another to fill it. And he’ll find none so
good as ME!” Manu-ehl pointed a proud thumb at his chest.
“’E’s a
complete and utter loon!” Yanbar
heard the new voice again, and again heard a little oof when Manu-ehl punched the bag at his side.
“What’s in your
bag there, that keeps talking to you?” Yanbar pointed.
“Absolutely
nothing of any importance whatsoever.”
“The most
important person ‘e ever received in ‘is life!
Me name’s Ugg!” The little voice piped up once again.
“Shut up, ye.”
“No I won’t!”
Yanbar broke
in. “Is there a little elf in there or something? No person is small enough to
fit in a pocket. Also, I don’t think you should be hitting him.”
Manu-ehl glared
at Yanbar, and a little voice piped out of the bag, “Yeah!” The bag shook a
bit, the dark leather undulating as if muscle still rippled underneath, before
a little ball of light popped out of the bag and flew around Manu-ehl’s head. It
was slightly oval-shaped, and a short tail followed behind it like a comet. The
light shifted slowly between warm colors, reds and oranges and yellows.
Yanbar stared
at the light. “Honestly, after the lightning, this doesn’t surprise me at all.”
Manu-ehl swiped
at the light. “Get back in there!”
“Where is ‘e?” the
light (Ugg, apparently) piped as it flew around Manu-ehl’s head. “I can’t see ‘im!”
At this,
Manu-ehl just frowned and gave Yanbar a hard look. “You really can’t see him?”
“Is this some
sort of trick, Manny? ‘Cause I don’t like it! Where is ‘e?” Ugg turned a deep
red and began to vibrate up and down next to Manu-ehl’s droopy ear.
“I’m right
here.” Yanbar said, trying to be helpful. Ugg yipped and zipped towards Yanbar,
missing his head by an entire foot and slamming into a nearby tree. Yanbar
shook his head as he watched the little light fall into the snow, leaving a
tiny indent, before going up and right back to Manu-ehl, where it hovered
behind his head. Manu-ehl, for his part, just observed Yanbar.
“Where’s yours?”
Manu-ehl said.
“My what?”
Yanbar replied.
“Yer werelight.”
Manu-ehl said. “One of these useless
gits.” He jabbed a thumb at Ugg, who gave a little huff. “It’s only polite to
invite yer own out if another chooses to reveal his self.”
Yanbar
shrugged. “I don’t have one.”
Manu-ehl hummed and began walking around in lazy
circles, Ugg floating above his head in the center. Eventually, he tromped in
front of Yanbar, struggling through the snow, and planted himself. “What say ye
about being a magician?” A very sly smile tugged the right have off his mouth.
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