#lilly fierstele

[ryan-shepard-writes]

Hiya Ryan, been writing lately? What character development of any character, are you most proud of?

I actually managed a few sentences today, yeah! So that's better than nothing. How about you?

And honestly? Either Lilly or Crowlyn.

Lilly went from being a dumb little teen based off of me when I was in elementary school, to a dumb young adult who doesn't afraid of anything. She's the kind of brave that leaves her house in her pajamas to get a better look at an ogre as it swats at people with a tree. She's the kind of gentle that stops and waits for bees that want to look at her dress. She calls a war-torn insectoid dragon beautiful. She stares down a murderous mage-king when all the powerful men around her are afraid to look him in the eye. She's not naive, but she has a very child-like sense of awe for the world around her and an insatiable curiosity that she's unwilling to sacrifice. I'm honestly very proud of how she's grown up, and if I was a girl, I'd want to be a girl like her.

Crowlyn, on the other hand, went from being a Sesshomaru rip-off to being a genuinely deep and complex person. He's a bit of a Knight Templar Older Brother, and a very queer mage prodigy. He dresses like David Bowie's Goblin King for the aesthetic and treats the world around him like a mix between a chessboard and a Broadway stage. He's an ice cold bastard who'd sell his mother to Satan just to watch her be dragged away. He's a sweet little dork who makes flowers out of magic for boys he finds cute. He's a sociopath. He's a traumatized child. He loves sunsets, and sunrises, and the way rain smells. I'm glad I worked so hard on him.

[chaos-event-horizon]

Probably... Lilly Fierstele. She's a main character in the novel I've been writing since 2004-ish. So that would make her 17 years in the making, and would make me the biggest failure of an author ever to be conceived.

I honestly love writing for her, but uh... Depression do be hurting. I really owe it to her to get this book series finished.

Who is your 'oldest' OC (as in how long since you created them, not their age in canon)? How long ago did you make them?

[ryan-shepard-writes]

Which character from your WIP becomes the fan favorite?

Probably either Crowlyn or Lilly!

Crow because he's a very powerful gay mage with slight sociopathic tendencies and the same fashion sense as David Bowie's Goblin King.

Lilly because she's an actually strong and brave young girl who calls old and scar-mottled dragons beautiful, kicks gods in the shin, and is brave enough to admit when she's wrong.

Or maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised and it'll be Keir? Who knows! But I can't wait to finish the book and find out!

[ryan-shepard-writes]

A̸ ̸n̸e̴w̷ ̴c̷h̶a̴p̸t̶e̸r̷ ̶h̵a̷s̷ ̸b̸e̶e̶n̴ ̵u̶p̸l̷o̴a̵d̶e̴d̴.̸

̴C̴a̵n̸ ̶t̴h̵e̶y̷ ̷b̴e̷ ̵s̴a̸v̷e̴d̵?̸

[ryan-shepard-writes]

Hello, dear! You've been visited by the random character question fairy! :D ~☆

Right off the bat, what would someone notice about your character? Does this trait negatively or positively affect their interactions with other people? Is your character aware of this trait and, if so, do they wish to change it? 

Answering this for Lilly, who doesn't quite get enough love tbh.

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Lilly is, to coin a phrase, very humbly out of her depth. She's aware of her naivety and shortcomings of knowledge due to the way she was raised, and doesn't pretend to know things, and likes to learn and soak up as much of a new thing as she can. Whether it be something to do with the new cultures she's constantly being exposed to, or the people she suddenly finds herself surrounded be, she does her best to respectfully learn how to interact with this new world that she finds herself in. She really does try her best, considering the circumstances!

Some of the other characters scoff at her for it, or see it as her trying too hard, while others find it very respectable to be able to admit to not knowing something and wanting to learn. It honestly depends on their own views of the world around them, whether or not they see her eagerness as something charming.

[ryan-shepard-writes]

Why does Lilly make such a big deal out of soap??? Of all things, why do her people have a SOAP shortage?

Allow me to answer your question with another question:

How big and advanced would a space ship have to be to house and sustain hundreds or thousands of people for several generations, as well as every single thing they may need to survive- including food, water, oxygen, fitness equipment, entertainment, soap, and literally anything else they could need?

The humans that Lilly descended from arrived on their current planet on what is known as a Generational Ship- an as-of-yet theoretical craft that would be built to carry several generations worth of people to a new planet. One of the biggest problems with such a ship has always been the storage and amount of supplies that would be necessary; it would be nearly impossible to account for every hiccup, every illness, every mistake. Inevitably supplies will run out. You'll start to come up short on something. The backups of your backups will run out. The supplies you brought to make more soap will run out. After hundreds of years of travel, how many supplies do you think those humans would have left? Furthermore, there's never a guarantee that if they finally reach their destination, that this new planet will have the means to replenish those supplies. This new planet won't have a pile of soap waiting for them.

The humans here on earth have had literal millions of years to create and perfect soap, and it's something we're STILL working on. Our soap is far from the perfect pinnacle of soap-iness. It took us our entire existence to get to where we are now in terms of soap technology... so now imagine that you have to reinvent soap. Out of materials that you never knew existed. You've just landed on a new planet, and your food, water, and soap reserves are basically nonexistent, and now you have to figure out how to deal with that. You have a matter of days to do what took your entire race millions of years of evolution to figure out. You have a matter of days to figure out what parts of this planet are safe to touch, and what parts will melt your skin off.

Now imagine what other things Lilly's had to go without, and how her society must have been built to accommodate that type of life.

Welcome to the existential horror of long-term space travel. Don't lose your soap.

[ryan-shepard-writes]

Broke: Boy needs Girl's help to transform because she's Magical and he's Muscular and he Must Protect Her but he isn't Strong Enough so she says "we'll go together".

Woke: They help each other change in different ways because relationships are about give-and-take. She says "We'll go together, because we're a team."

BESPOKE: Boy needs Girl's help to transform because she's Magical and strong and he's Not Magical Enough but he's trying so hard to be reliable, so she grabs a sword and goes into battle with him because together they're stronger and despite their differences they can't help but feel feelings for each other. She says "We'll do this together- because our hearts are in the same place, and both of us need this if we want to move forward."

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Anyway I had a dream about my book characters getting ready for a fight and Lilly helped Keir change into his wolf form and then she grabbed a weapon and rode him into battle like a fucking War Hound and honestly it's the most Power Couple thing I've ever seen.

[ryan-shepard-writes]

"Dear rabbit, my legs are getting weak chasing you

The snow fields wouldn't seem so big if you knew

That this blood on my teeth it is far beyond dry

And I've captured you once but I wasn't quite right

So I'm telling you that you'll be safe with me.

Oh rabbit, my claws are dull now so don't be afraid

I could keep you warm as long as you can just try to be brave

Yes I know I'm a wolf and I've been known to bite

But the rest of my pack, I have left them behind

And my teeth may be sharp and I've been raised to kill

But the thought of fresh meat, it is making me ill

So I'm telling you that you'll be safe with me.

So rabbit please stop looking the other way

It's cold out there so why not stay here

Under my tail."

---I Know I'm A Wolf by Young Heretics

[ryan-shepard-writes]

I added some more to it and uploaded onto AO3 at the request of my friends!

Warning for some angst with a happy ending!

Instead of sleeping like a normie my brain refused to do anything until I wrote out the MOST soft love scene it could come up with about rain. Thoughts?

[ryan-shepard-writes]

4 and 9!

THANKS FOR THE ASK!!! And sorry it took so long to answer

4. A protag’s opinion of the antag(s)

To keep it simple and non-spoilery for anyone who hasn't read much of Fate's Crystal Majesty, we'll go with Crowlyn's opinion on his father Solaris.

And his opinions are... Complicated. On the one hand, this was his father, a good king who he had admired and often tried to emulate. Who had been fair, and wise, and loving towards both his people and his family... But then everything changed, that night when Crow had to run away. Solaris was no longer that person. No longer that king. No longer Crow's father. So while Crow feels a sense of attachment... He also wouldn't hesitate to kill, if given the opportunity and even the slightest reason to. It's no longer a form of patricide. That thing hasn't been his father for decades.

9. Your character that has existed the longest (and how much they’ve changed!)

All of these characters have been born, killed, and remade so many times that it's hard to keep track... But out of everyone, I'd say Lilly has had the most interesting evolution, simply because of how she started and what she means to me.

Lilly started out as the self-insert I had BEFORE I got inserted into the book. She was the "me" that existed when I was 10-14, when I had written the original version of this story and lost it. After I realized things about myself and began my transition, I'd actually considered changing her too... But I couldn't do it. It felt like killing or denying a very important part of who I am as a person. The little girl, who was stupid and brave enough to leave her house in the dead of night wearing her pajamas to face down a monster 4 times her size. She's been her own person for a LONG time, and she's grown up a lot since then. She may not be a warrior, but Lilly's always been a fighter, and a talker, and a little mystery solver. Her love for Keir and the world she finds herself in has always been a huge part of her growth as a person, just like learning to love the world was a part of MY growth, and I honestly can't wait for people to meet her and see her story unfold. She's a damsel, she's in distress, but she can handle this. She may not be traditionally strong... But she has the heart of a dragon.

[ryan-shepard-writes]

Finished the rewrite of my prologue and thought I'd toss it into the universe. HERE is a link to the previous prologue. Sadly Tumblr hates me and got rid of certain things like Italics, so it looks a bit different than the doc I'm working on-- which I will gladly share if anyone is interested.

@athenixrose thought you might be interested jaidjwjdh

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PROLOGUE: MISFORTUNE

Ryan sighed, staring at the old library computer monitor as it glared pointedly back with near-blinding artificial light. The screen wasn't blank—thankfully, writer's block wasn't the issue here. No, the current issue was editing. Editing, and the fact that no one else but he himself had even seen the screen's contents so far. He had no idea if it was any good. He had no idea if it was even palatable. But… he loved it. He wanted to make this work. He so desperately wanted to give this part of himself to the world.

“Well…” Ryan mumbled, scrolling up the hundreds of pages of his beloved monstrosity. “A very wise woman once said that the beginning was a very good place to start.”

It was rough— It was a first draft, after all. But… there was potential here. He knew there was. There had to be something, here among all these words and notations to himself and future beta readers…

And so he began to read.

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~)O(~ Now, for the main event… ~)O(~

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As with many stories, ours begins on a typical day. Dreary, but typical for a day on AltGaia in the P.C.E (Post Common Era). Outside, the air was thick, wet, and quite frankly smelled like rotten eggs. Typical, given the state of the atmosphere (of course the planet was in decline, what did you expect, a utopian romance?). Lilly Fierstele, from an old family, was blessed enough that, on this typical day, she awoke in her own bedroom, in her own home. Such a home was conveniently equipped with air filters, as was, of course, typical for someone of her upper-lower-class status. Though in meager amounts compared to our own time, she had soap, water, food, clothes, and other typical human things. Indeed, typically, Lilly had the fortune of being who she was, if nothing else. Typical of her lot in life, most of her family was long gone, but at least she was considerably comfortable as she looked after her family’s assets, until she was old enough to be blessed in marriage, have her own children, and then die herself. She was, typically, privileged in her own way, here in her gray house of bare essentials.

And yet, for such a typical, blessed day full of dystopian upper-lower-class privilege, Lilly did not have one thing. That one thing, was any idea why she was awoken in the dead of night by the frantic sounds of shrieking— that of both humans and tearing metal.

Gifted with a curious nature (typical of any modern or postmodern heroine. I wonder if I should have made her… sensible instead?) and lack of foresight (also quite typical. Her personality might be a little too much like a tree shaped christmas cookie.) she quickly got out of bed and made her way to the door, which remained in its typical, un-broken state. Thankfully, she found her own home to be quite alright, and deduced that the sound must be coming from outside. As sensible as any teenage girl woken up at three in the morning, our typically uppity lass put on the small half-mask that would shield her lungs from the worst of the sulfuric smell of the air, squared her scrawny little shoulders, and slapped the button that opened her door.

And immediately wished she hadn’t.

Before her stood a scene that could only come from a child’s nightmares. An exceptionally large, green, scale-covered humanoid was in the middle of her street, batting at a crowd of her neighbors with a tree— they, apparently having either more sense or time than her, had wandered out of their homes in their specialized anti-sulfur suits (Too specific? Fix in post.), rather than pajamas. The great creature's shoulders were as wide as the average cargo-hauling vehicle (quite big) and he would probably have to duck if he were standing in her house. His gravelly voice came out sounding eerily like metal grinding into stone, impatiently repeating the same phrase over and over.

"Bahg da ii Si’Endir!”

Typically enough, not to mention conveniently, Lilly was somewhat of a scholar. She'd spent many of her lonely days reading and studying, and therefore knew a handful of words from her old books that contained languages thought lost. This particular language was known as Etlun’ugi, or Earth Tongue (Needs a better translation). While she had no idea what this thing was, she could at least pick out two "words", or rather a conjoined phrase. Si’Endir, Girl Human. This thing apparently really wanted someone like her.

But alas, as she stood there patting herself on the back for decrypting a simple descriptive phrase, the giant green... "man" (Let’s call him Bob, shall we? Dosn’t matter if it’s corny, no one’s going to read this but me.) had noticed Lilly and ceased his caterwauling (I refuse to chill out with the thesaurus). Bob, seemingly a man of action, tossed his tree at the crowd, who had women he apparently wasn’t interested in, and turned in the girl’s direction. “Kalla!” Cried Bob, before barreling over in her direction.

Lilly could barely comprehend what was going on before she was suddenly being roughly dragged along. “Run, you idiot!” Said the boy—or maybe a man?—as he half carried her through the yard and down the road. “It’s hard for them to turn when they run in this form! His muscles restrict his movement!”

She had half a mind to comment that she really didn’t give a damn about why he couldn’t turn, but the other half of her weary mind was blank as she stared. Her new acquaintance wasn't any more human than Bob was.

He wore black pants, a sleeveless black shirt, and dark leather shoes that she could only describe as slippers. (But we aren’t so ignorant in the ways of footwear, so we’ll call them moccasins, which is indeed what they were.) His skin, she could tell from his wrist-guard covered arms and shoulders, as well as the hand which gripped her forearm like a vice, was a coppery tan. Atop his head, swiveling to catch the sounds of the night, were a pair of wolf’s ears the same color as his long, tied-back black hair, just as out of place on his otherwise human form as the dark and bushy tail that stuck through a slit in his pants. She couldn’t see his face from this angle but, typically enough, he was handsome. The unstrung bow in his other hand and the fully-loaded quiver hanging from his hips almost went unnoticed.

Almost.

Time slowed for our Lilly. Thanks to her precious books, she knew the creature that had put himself between her and a now-confused Bob. This was a Daekin. An animalistic faery-like creature, whose people had been living on this planet long before her own. Creatures that were powerful. Creatures so magical that, after inciting a war, had completely disappeared from the world. And, as was typical to the story being told thus far, a Wolf Daekin, called a Rorvan, was the strangest and most powerful kind of non-mythical Daekin.

“Rorvan.” She said, thinking this to be some kind of profound revelation. The man— twenty, she thought, he can’t be more than twenty, though he most certainly was at least as old as the dirt she stood on— flinched at the word but made no comment.

Instead, he watched as Bob turned, aimed deliberately, and began running towards them once again. The Rorvan, unphased, picked our heroine up with naught but an arm around her waist and neatly stepped from Bob’s path. It was almost like a dance, the movement was so outrageously casual. With a sigh, he set her down. “I was hoping to follow him and find out what a Slic’th would want, trying so hard to come back to this... place. Seems I found my answer.” he said, putting the wooden portion of his bow at his instep and stringing it in a fluid and practiced motion. Politely, as an afterthought, he glanced at her. “And what might your name be, human? I’m called Keir.”

The human eyed the weapon nervously— did he plan to fight something as large as Bob with that, or was it meant for her?— “My name is Lilly. Lilly Fierstele. Eighth of my name, nonsequential, Caretaker of the Fierstele-”

“Please do not start naming your entire bloodline. Your lives are so short that we’d be here all night, and honestly I do not have that kind of time, Miss Lilly. I ask because he very specifically appears to want you, and I’d like to know why.”

Our human could just stare blankly. Was this guy even real? She wanted to hope not. She'd made the mistake of assuming that even beasts had manners.

Quite suddenly, Bob stopped. He squared himself up, and then with more of his odd grunts, began yelling at them. His voice seemed stunted, as if it was a chore for him to get his stone-like body to make sound. Lilly could only make out a few words, Fitae, meaning Fate, Si'Endir, and Rorvan—and Rorvae, the plural form of the word. Keir seemed to take in his words, then chuckled. He talked quickly enough that even in a normal voice, Lilly had trouble keeping up. Bob vehemently repeated himself.

At the end, the Rorvan sighed. “Miss Lilly, apparently you are nothing but trouble. Our friend won’t back down... It seems he feels the need to keep you prisoner and take you to his people. I’m assuming you don’t want that to happen?”

Oddly enough, her mind decided that this moment above all others was too much. Promptly, her eyes closed and her body crumpled as she fell into a faint.

“Of all the...” Keir grumbled, barely catching her before she hit the ground, glancing at the crowd of humans that had grown larger and were beginning to shout. As far as he was concerned, this whole mission was a mess. Typical.

Bob, in their own tongue, had informed him that this particular human girl was important to a Slic’a'th'i prophecy. This girl needed to return with Bob. This human was special. This human was Fate touched, and would make the wolves regret every single transgression they ever made…

Blah, blah, blah.

Typical.

Faster than sight, Keir drew his bow and loosed arrows—arrows which Bob hadn't even realized the Rorvan had grabbed before they planted themselves into the scaled man's broad forehead. It was hard telling what the green giant thought. Probably something iconic and full of wisdom, like ‘wow, this guy is fast!’. Either way, Bob didn’t have long to think about it. As the momentum of 5 arrows to the face sent him reeling back, the scaled behemoth found himself dead long before he hit the ground.

Sorry Bob. But you probably deserved it… Maybe.

The human crowd could only gasp as Keir was suddenly crouched next to Lilly, bow unstrung once more. After a few seconds, most of them ran. Not that it mattered, they were obviously no concern to someone who could down a giant with nothing but a handful of arrows. (RIP Bob)

Keir sighed, struggling with himself. If he left the human here alone, someone not as friendly as him would probably show up again. If he took her home with him, it would spark controversy, and probably cause the Slic’a'th'i to merely change tactics. He hated politics. But his father had sent him to follow, get intel, and come home with news. Leaving her would be irresponsible, and he’d probably be sent back for her anyway. But a human in Daekin lands? His people saw humans in little better light than they saw cockroaches, as was typical of such different cultures. Humans had fought and tried to kill Daekin, all for some burning and doomed territory, and the general populace would probably not be in favor of harboring such a cursed creature. She would need to be constantly watched, protected, in even what he considered to be good and friendly company.

What an ironic little cliche.

Supporting her with one hand so she sat up, he put down his bow stave and gently lay his other on her neck, feeling his meager magic surge. He was taught this particular magic by his father, only just a day ago; it was a binding and tracking mark. Magic that was old, but effective, and left a physical mark on the body. Conveniently, unless he took it off, he would now forever know where she was and how she was feeling. Others would smell and sense him on her, now. To creatures who lived by magical laws and were kin to animals, this was as powerful a protection for her as a constant guard, and barely used any power on his part. To humans, though, it would probably be nothing more than a scandalous tattoo. Typical barbarians.

It was odd, though, how father had known...

Having resigned himself to his Fate, he picked the girl up and, to human eyes, vanished.

You get the feeling that you’re in for a wild ride.

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~)O(~ Other Side ~)O(~

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“I feel like the narrator’s a little obnoxious, but… that’s kind of the point, so I guess I’ll leave that for now…” the young man murmured, eyes flitting across the screen. “I think it’s decent, though, for a prologue? At least for a draft? Maybe later I’ll go and add more to it, but it seems like a good breaking point. So I guess the first chapter will just start h—

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Į̴̔̚D̷͕̀̽Ǐ̷̧̠̹̍̈́O̷͙̗̳͋͑T̴̻͖͘ͅ

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~)O(~ Far away, in the L̷̜̕ȋ̵̟c̴̱͛ḧ̴̪́’̶̫̔s̷̛̬ ̶̡̅W̴̦̃ǫ̴̾o̸͕͘d̶̩̓ ~)O(~

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The air was calm and uncommonly clear of fog or mist, replaced instead by dark shadows and a wayward breeze that stirred the typically cluttered forest floor. Slightly muggy air was held there, by trees that rose like skyscrapers to block out the light of whatever stars might dot the night sky. Instead, the forest seemed to be lit by ominously glowing patches of swamp, and the occasional firefly. The smells of late Summer flooded the senses of every creature in that dim place… unless, of course, you were standing too-near the cloaked figure that silently picked his way down a well-used game trail. Around him, the air was cold and flavorless, but thick with magic that concealed the identity of that wandering soul.

He traveled leisurely, with neither a weapon nor a sense of urgency that you might have had if you’d traveled this same path in the dead of night. And yet, not a single being of fur or feather allowed themselves to be caught in his path.

As though they instinctively avoided that chilling aura that surrounded him.

After a few more minutes of travel, he broke into a hidden clearing. The thin trail continued on, as did he, through a tiny meadow of white and purple lilies, leading to a low mound covered by the beautiful flowers. At the base, our odd figure stopped and knelt in respect… then removed his hood, allowing his wolf's ears to twitch as the light breeze hit them.

"It's been too long, mother. How are you doing? It's me, C̶r̵o̷w̷," he said to the grave, "I know I haven't been visiting as often as I should be, but it was getting harder to sneak through the line. Father's people took back the Rivend Fort, and we haven't reclaimed it quite yet… the bend in the river there makes it difficult for our people to cross unnoticed. I have a plan in place to come in from the other side, though. We'll retake it in due time…"

His voice trailed off into silence, falling into the gloom like a leaf to the ground. He seemed to contemplate what else to say, gently fingering a wilting flower.

After another moment, he gave a soft hum and continued. "Speaking of battles… this may be drawing to a close soon. Father has called a temporary truce, and I'm being asked back to the castle for… 'peaceful negotiations'..."

The breeze picked up for a split second, causing the flowers to shiver, and he chuckled. "I know. It's most certainly a trap, or some plot to try to trick me into submission, but I must go. It feels like something is changing... And it's been far too long since I've seen little Keir— though I suppose he won't be so little anymore. It's been almost twenty years since the night I left… the night you left, mother. And I'm stronger, now, even compared to how strong I was back then. Father won't be the one pulling the strings in this campaign for much longer. Keir and I will get through this with both our hides intact. You can count on it… mom."

He smiled as another breeze flitted through, standing amongst dancing flowers. Taking a deep breath, he held out his right hand as his eyes glowed silver. His cloak blew out, suddenly, as a rush of chilled air seemed to release from his frame.

"It's been too long since I've done this, and your flower garden is beginning to wilt… I'll fix that. You deserve to rest among something beautiful... Lunari, queen of the wolves."

Wisps of hazy mist flowed daintily from his outstretched palm, circling and caressing patches of flowers all throughout the beautiful graveyard. It covered everything, hiding the clearing from sight… then condensed, sinking into the ground with a hum of rain as the rejuvenated flowers glowed softly.

And like that, the cloaked figure was gone. But an ethereal sculpture of frosted ice replaced him; a white wolf, howling her song to an unseen sky.

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T̸̛̫̈h̶͙̖͑e̵̯̚͝r̸͔̣͛͗e̸̖͐̚.̷͖̆.̸̱̟͆͂.̷̝͝ ̸̛͍T̴̤͓̂h̸̭̟̔̄a̸͆̾͜t̵͓̓'̵̨͇̃̒ș̴̮̃ ̶̱̈́̉m̸͙̿͝ő̵͚r̸̛̫͎ĕ̸̜̝͒ ̴͍͋̋l̷̦̕ȉ̴̡̜̎k̵̘̭̈́e̶̙͑ ̴̂̔͜i̵̪̇ť̶͇́͜.̴̢̆

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—ere.”

[ryan-shepard-writes]

Fate's Crystal Majesty Prologue: Misfortune

Ryan sighed, staring at the old library computer monitor as it glared pointedly back with near-blinding artificial light. The screen wasn't blank—thankfully, writer's block wasn't the issue here. No, the current issue was editing. Editing, and the fact that no one else but he himself had even seen the screen's contents so far.

Which is why the poor writer was almost thrilled to have the stuffing scared right out of him by one of his best friends, who'd slammed her hand down onto his shoulder.

"Sorry I'm late, Ry! Skylar and I both forgot he worked, and I had to drop him off. What did you want to show me?"

"You have no idea how glad I am that you're even alive right now. Here!" He said, getting out of the computer chair and gesturing dramatically at the desktop's display. The young man felt a twinge of satisfaction as he watched his friend Rose go from confused to shocked.

"Is this it?"

"Yep! I finished the draft this morning. It's still rough—very rough, I can’t believe I’m even letting myself show it to you—but… it exists!"

Her eyes gleamed, and Ryan could have sworn she was vibrating. "Who else have you shown it to?"

"No one. You're the first, as promised!"

Rose broke into a grin, half-tossing her things on the desk and wiggling excitedly past him and into the chair. "You need help beta-reading, right? It's okay if I start now?"

"Yes! Very okay! Just remember that it's still a rough draft… not a finished product! Go ahead and read the prologue, we can talk about it after you're done!"

"Okay. Gimme just a second…"

~)O(~ Now, for the main event… ~)O(~

As with many stories, ours begins on a typical day. Dreary, but typical for a day on AltGaia in the P.C.E (Post Common Era). Outside, the air was thick, wet, and quite frankly smelled like rotten eggs. Typical, given the state of the atmosphere (of course the planet was in decline, what did you expect, a utopian romance?). Lilly Fierstele, from an old family, was blessed enough that, on this typical day, she awoke in her own bedroom, in her own home. Such a home was conveniently equipped with air filters, as was, of course, typical for someone of her upper-lower-class status. Though in meager amounts compared to our own time, she had soap, water, food, clothes, and other typical human things. Indeed, typically, Lilly had the fortune of being who she was, if nothing else. Typical of her lot in life, most of her family was long gone, but at least she was considerably comfortable as she looked after her family’s assets, until she was old enough to be blessed in marriage, have her own children, and then die herself. She was, typically, privileged in her own way.

And yet, for such a typical, blessed day full of dystopian upper-lower-class privilege, Lilly did not have one thing. That one thing, was any idea why she was awoken in the dead of night by the frantic sounds of shrieking and splintering wood.

Gifted with a curious nature (typical of any modern or postmodern heroine) and lack of foresight (also quite typical) she quickly got out of bed and made her way to the door, which remained in its typical, un-splintered state. Thankfully, she found her own home to be quite alright, and deduced that the sound must be coming from outside. As sensible as any teenage girl woken up at three in the morning, our typically uppity lass put on the small half-mask that would shield her lungs from the worst of the sulfuric smell of the air, squared her scrawny little shoulders, and threw open the door.

And immediately wished she hadn’t.

Before her stood a scene that could only come from a child’s nightmares. An exceptionally large, green, scale-covered humanoid was in the middle of her street, batting at a crowd of her neighbors with a tree—they, apparently having either more sense or time than her, had wandered out of their homes in their specialized anti-sulfur suits, rather than pajamas. The great creature's shoulders were as wide as the average cargo-hauling vehicle (quite big) and he would probably have to duck if he were standing on her porch. His gravelly voice came out sounding eerily like metal grinding into stone, impatiently repeating the same phrase over and over.

"Bahg da ii Si’Endir!”

Typically enough, not to mention conveniently, Lilly was somewhat of a scholar. She'd spent many of her lonely days reading and studying, and therefore knew a handful of words from her old books that contained languages thought lost. This particular language was known as Etlun’ugi, or Earth tongue. While she had no idea what this thing was, she could at least pick out two "words", or rather a conjoined phrase. Si’Endir, Girl Human. This thing apparently really wanted someone like her.

But alas, as she stood there patting herself on the back for decrypting a simple descriptive phrase, the giant green... "man" (Let’s call him Bob, shall we?) had noticed Lilly and ceased his caterwauling. Bob, seemingly a man of action, tossed his tree at the crowd, who had women he apparently wasn’t interested in, and turned in the girl’s direction. “Kalla!” Cried Bob, before barreling over in her direction.

Lilly could barely comprehend what was going on before she was suddenly being roughly dragged along. “Run, you idiot!” Said the boy—or maybe a man?—as he half carried her through the yard and down the road. “It’s hard for them to turn when they run! His muscles restrict his movement!”

She had half a mind to comment that she really didn’t give a damn about why he couldn’t turn, but the other half of her weary mind was blank as she stared. Her new acquaintance wasn't any more human than Bob was.

He wore black pants, a sleeveless black shirt, and dark leather shoes that she could only describe as slippers. (But we aren’t so ignorant in the ways of footwear, so we’ll call them moccasins, which is indeed what they were.) His skin, she could tell from his wrist-guard covered arms and shoulders, as well as the hand which gripped her forearm like a vice, was a coppery tan. Atop his head, swiveling to catch the sounds of the night, were a pair of wolf’s ears the same color as his long, tied-back black hair, just as out of place on his otherwise human form as the dark and bushy tail that stuck through a slit in his pants. She couldn’t see his face from this angle but, typically enough, he was handsome. The unstrung bow in his other hand and the fully-loaded quiver hanging from his hips almost went unnoticed.

Almost.

Time slowed for our Lilly. Thanks to her precious books, she knew the creature that had put himself between her and a now-confused Bob. This was a Daekin. An animalistic faery-like creature, whose people had been living on this planet long before her own. Creatures that were powerful. Creatures so magical that, after inciting a war, had completely disappeared from the world. And, as was typical to the story being told thus far, a Wolf Daekin, called a Rorvan, was the strangest and most powerful kind of non-mythical Daekin.

“Rorvan.” She said, thinking this to be some kind of profound revelation. The man-twenty, she thought, he can’t be more than twenty, though he most certainly was at least as old as the dirt she stood on, flinched at the word but made no comment.

Instead, he watched as Bob turned, aimed deliberately, and began running towards them once again. The Rorvan, unphased, picked our heroine up with naught but an arm around her waist and neatly stepped from Bob’s path. With a sigh, he set her down. “I was hoping to follow him and find out what a Slic’th would want, trying so hard to come back to this... place. Seems I found my answer.” he said, putting the wooden portion of his bow at his instep and stringing it in a fluid and practiced motion. Politely, as an afterthought, he glanced at her. “And what might your name be, human? I’m called Keir.”

The human eyed the weapon nervously—did he plan to fight something as large as Bob with that, or was it meant for her?—“My name is Lilly. Lilly Fierstele. Eighth of my name, non-sequential, Caretaker of the Fierstele-”

“Please do not start naming your entire bloodline. Your lives are so short that we’d be here all night, and honestly I do not have that kind of time, Miss Lilly.”

Our human could just stare blankly. Was this guy even real? She wanted to hope not. She'd made the mistake of assuming that even beasts had manners.

Quite suddenly, Bob stopped. He squared himself up, and then with more of his odd grunts, began yelling at them. Lilly could only make out a few words, Fitae, meaning Fate, Si'Endir, and Rorvan—and Rorvae, the plural form of the word. Keir seemed to take in his words, then chuckled. He talked quickly enough that even in a normal voice, Lilly had trouble keeping up. Bob vehemently repeated himself. It was slow, halting, as though he didn’t fully know the language.

At the end, he sighed. “Miss Lilly, apparently you are nothing but trouble. Our friend won’t back down... It seems he feels the need to keep you prisoner and take you to his people. How does that sound to you?”

Oddly enough, her mind decided that this moment above all others was too much. Promptly, her eyes closed and her body crumpled as she fell into a faint.

“Of all the...” Keir grumbled, barely catching her before she hit the ground, glancing at the crowd of humans that had grown larger and were beginning to shout. As far as he was concerned, this whole mission was a mess. Typical.

Bob, in their own tongue, had informed him that this particular human girl was important to a Slic’a'th'i prophecy. This girl needed to return with Bob. This human was special. This human was Fate touched, and would make the wolves regret every single transgression they ever made…

Blah, blah, blah.

Typical.

Faster than sight, Keir drew his bow and loosed arrows—arrows which Bob hadn't even realized the Rorvan had grabbed before they planted themselves into the scaled man's broad forehead. It was hard telling what the green giant thought. Probably something iconic and full of wisdom, like ‘wow, this guy is fast!’. Either way, Bob didn’t have long to think about it. As the momentum of 5 arrows to the face sent him reeling back, the scaled behemoth found himself dead long before he hit the ground.

Sorry Bob. But you probably deserved it.

The human crowd could only gasp as Keir was suddenly crouched next to Lilly, bow unstrung once more. After a few seconds, most of them ran. Not that it mattered, they were obviously no concern to someone who could down a giant with nothing but a handful of arrows. (RIP Bob)

Keir sighed, struggling with himself. If he left the human here alone, someone not as friendly as him would probably show up again. If he took her home with him, it would spark controversy, and probably cause the Slic’a'th'i to merely change tactics. He hated politics. But his father had sent him to follow, get intel, and come home with news. Leaving her would be irresponsible, and he’d probably be sent back for her anyway. But a human in Daekin lands? His people saw humans in little better light than they saw cockroaches, as was typical of such different cultures. Humans had fought and tried to kill Daekin, all for some burning and doomed territory, and the general populace would probably not be in favor of harboring such a cursed creature. She would need to be constantly watched, protected, in even what he considered to be good and friendly company.

Such was his life, one long list of clichés and ironies.

Supporting her with one hand so she sat up, he put down his bow stave and gently lay his other on her neck, feeling his meager magic surge. He was taught this particular magic by his father, only just a day ago; it was a binding and tracking mark. Magic that was old, but effective, and left a physical mark on the body. Conveniently, unless he took it off, he would now forever know where she was and how she was feeling. Others would smell and sense him on her, now. To creatures who lived by magical laws and were kin to animals, this was as powerful a protection for her as a constant guard, and barely used any power on his part. To humans, though, it would probably be nothing more than a scandalous tattoo. Typical barbarians.

It was odd, though, how father had known...

Having resigned himself to his Fate, he picked the girl up and, to human eyes, vanished.

You get the feeling that you’re in for a wild ride.

~)O(~ Other Side ~)O(~

“Isn’t that kind of obnoxious? I mean… you used the word ‘typical’ a lot.”

“It’s a theme, and use of an identifier. It’s meant to sound that way… I’m establishing the narrator themselves as a character. One who’s unreliable and sarcastic at best, and malicious to the other characters at worst.”

“Huh. I guess that’s kinda neat…”

“‘Kinda neat’?"

“Idunno, Ryan. It just seems unfinished, to me.”

“It’s a draft, Rose. It’s literally not finished."

“Then why let me read it?” the girl said, obviously teasing.

Ryan, however, was concentrating too hard to notice she was pulling his leg. He grumbled under his breath, rubbing his face. “Because you begged me to let you beta read! You wanted… ugh. just keep going. Was the Narrator’s voice the only main problem you had with the prologue?”

Rose fidgeted with a strand of her hair, apparently thinking hard about her response, then nodded. “So far, I like it! The Narrator’s just a little… you know. obnoxious. And rude. Maybe tone them down? I honestly thought the bit about ‘Bob’ was kinda funny, but the narrator guy’s just a bit much. Also, the formatting for the title. Maybe you should try centering the whole thing?”

Ryan nodded. He pulled a small notepad out of the knee-pocket of his cargo shorts and started jotting down her feedback. “That’s fair, I suppose…”

Rose grinned at him and stretched, her auburn hair catching the early morning sun as it trickled through the nearby window. “Alrighty! I’m so glad you’re letting me help with this! Is there any more done? Or do you only have the prologue ready for beta?”

The young author blinked, glancing back up at the girl beside him. He had invited her to the library with him that morning so he could get a little feedback on the current draft. Ryan and Rose, though very close, didn’t share many literary interests, and he had been shocked when she expressed enthusiasm about reading his book.

Hesitantly, he nodded. “Well… you can read more, sure. Most of the book is technically done in this draft, I’m just editing. There’s some Author’s Notes here and there but… it should be readable! But are you sure you really…?”

“Of course! You’ve been working really hard on this, Ry. I’m happy to help!”

Ryan smiled, running a hand through the loose bangs of his chocolate brown hair. “Okay. Well, the first chapter starts h—”

~)O(~ Far away, in the L̷̜̕ȋ̵̟c̴̱͛ḧ̴̪́’̶̫̔s̷̛̬ ̶̡̅W̴̦̃ǫ̴̾o̸͕͘d̶̩̓ ~)O(~

The air was calm and uncommonly clear of fog or mist, replaced instead by dark shadows and a wayward breeze that stirred the typically cluttered forest floor. Slightly muggy air was held there, by trees that rose like skyscrapers to block out the light of whatever stars might dot the night sky. Instead, the forest seemed to be lit by ominously glowing patches of swamp, and the occasional firefly. The smells of late Summer flooded the senses of every creature in that dim place… unless, of course, you were standing too-near the cloaked figure that silently picked his way down a well-used game trail. Around him, the air was cold and flavorless, but thick with magic that concealed the identity of that wandering soul.

He travelled leisurely, with neither a weapon nor a sense of urgency that you might have had if you’d travelled this same path in the dead of night. And yet, not a single being of flight or fur allowed themselves to be caught in his path.

T̷͔̀ḧ̶̡͍͘ȩ̸̧̰͎̬̊̈́ÿ̵̳̲̬̿̑ ̸̡͚̖̙͌̐̚k̶̹̳̇̇͋͆n̶̳̥̹̮̭͛͂̃͗e̸̱̘̓̽w̵̹̰̜̘̫̆ ̷̰͓̖̌͜b̵̤̺̱̀̄̄͜͝ȇ̷͕̬͇t̶͕͑̊͂͂̚t̸̮̀͂̈́͝e̴̡̙͇̥̚r̵̞͎̰̈́̚.̴̹̔̆͑̕͝

After a few more minutes of travel, he broke into a hidden clearing. The thin trail continued on, as did he, through a tiny meadow of white and purple lilies, leading to a low mound covered in the beautiful flowers. At the base, our odd figure stopped and knelt in respect… then removed his hood, allowing his wolf's ears to twitch as the breeze hit them.

"It's been too long, mother. How are you doing? It's me, C̶r̵o̷w̷," he said to the grave, "I know I haven't been visiting as often as I should be, but it was getting harder to sneak through the line. Father's people took back the Rivend Fort, and we haven't reclaimed it quite yet… the bend in the river there makes it difficult for our people to cross unnoticed. I have a plan in place to come in from the other side, though. We'll retake it in due time…"

His voice trailed off into silence, falling into the gloom like a feather from the sky. He seemed to contemplate what else to say, gently fingering a wilting flower.

After another moment, he gave a soft hum and continued. "Speaking of battles… this may be drawing to a close soon. Father has called a temporary truce, and I'm being asked back to the castle for… 'peaceful negotiations'..."

The breeze picked up for a split second, causing the flowers to shiver, and he chuckled. "I know. It's most certainly a trap, or some plot to try to trick me into submission, but I must go. It feels like something is changing. And it's been far too long since I've seen little Keir… though I suppose he won't be so little anymore. It's been almost twenty years since the night I left… the night you left, mother. And I'm stronger, now, even compared to how strong I was back then. Father won't be the one pulling the strings in this campaign for much longer. Keir and I will get through this with both our hides intact. You can count on it… mom."

He smiled as another breeze flitted through, standing amongst dancing flowers. Taking a deep breath, he held out his right hand as his eyes glowed silver.

"It's been too long since I've done this, and your flower garden is beginning to wilt… I'll fix that. You deserve to rest among something beautiful, Lunari, queen of the wolves."

Wisps of hazy mist flowed daintily from his outstretched palm, circling and caressing patches of flowers all throughout the beautiful graveyard. It covered everything, hiding the clearing from sight… then condensed, sinking into the ground with a hum of rain as the rejuvenated flowers glowed softly.

The cloaked figure was gone. But an ethereal sculpture of frosted ice replaced him; a white wolf, howling her song to an unseen sky.

T̸̛̫̈h̶͙̖͑e̵̯̚͝r̸͔̣͛͗e̸̖͐̚.̷͖̆.̸̱̟͆͂.̷̝͝ ̸̛͍T̴̤͓̂h̸̭̟̔̄a̸͆̾͜t̵͓̓'̵̨͇̃̒ș̴̮̃ ̶̱̈́̉m̸͙̿͝ő̵͚r̸̛̫͎ĕ̸̜̝͒ ̴͍͋̋l̷̦̕ȉ̴̡̜̎k̵̘̭̈́e̶̙͑ ̴̂̔͜i̵̪̇ť̶͇́͜.̴̢̆

—ere.”

Come read the story!