19 April 2024

“I don’t understand,” Elliott pouted. “You’re a pirate, aren't you? Why are you risking so much to help me set up this resistance?”

For a long time, Moira didn’t answer. Then she asked, “How many people do you think are willing to challenge the Pirate King face to face? To all but demand something from him when they do?”

Elliott blinked. “That sounds like suicide.”

“Right?” Moira turned to watch Charles, who was struggling to climb up the rigging after Arylwen. “And yet that boy did just that. In the King’s own throne room, even.” She chuckled. “Oh, he was polite about it. Said ‘please’ and everything. But even then, and even trembling with fear, he showed more spine than men three times his size.”

“That’s it?”

“What other reason would I need? It’s why I joined up with Jasper in the first place, after all.” She dipped her head in Charles’ direction. “Mark my words; that boy will be a king someday.”

Elliott’s stomach twisted, and it took effort to keep his face passive. “And me?”

Moira raised an eyebrow, then smirked at him. “We’ll make something of you yet, little princeling.”

3 May 2023

Hanging out with family is not particularly conducive to being timely with things. Especially when I’m a time zone over…

Anyway, this is exploring some potential story arcs for the end game, particularly Roland, who I was thinking could actually be the exact opposite of what I imagined, and be the one inviting foreign powers to take charge for one reason or another. This is trying to get a feel for that other power. She is not Asian, if she even exists; I went back to a more Egyptian vibe for her, after all, shortly after this.

I sit across form a woman straight out of Egyptian history; dark hair, tanned skin, lots of gold jewelry with her Egyptian-cut white dress. The room around is just as lavish; almost too bright for my eyes. I look over the Cleopatra look-alike again; I doubt she’ll be staying like that by the time I’m done. But who knows?

Then I have a thought and snap my fingers. The aesthetics shift, and we are sitting in an Asian tea room, and a very Chinese empress now sits across from me. I’d been considering adding or changing things to include oriental dragons; would this work?

The queen gives me a knowing smile. “This certainly does feel more comfortable.” She takes a sip of her tea, and for a split second I thought I saw fox ears. She’s certainly not a kitsune, but all the research on Japanese legends lately, especially Tamamo-no-Mae, is affecting my perceptions. How would I want to handle this?

For a long time neither of us speaks; we just study each other carefully. Then she says, “I hear you’re not sure if I even truly exist. Is that correct?”

“Indeed. I need a major threat Roland himself created; I’m not sure that has to be you.”

“Oh?” She leans forward. “And what, pray tell, would you replace me with? Volcanoes?”

“Perhaps.”

She scoffs at me. “As if anyone would accept that.”

“We’ll see.” My smile turns devilish. “But first, my dear queen, what on earth drives you to fear Agthere so much?”

She freezes, looking for all the world like a teenager caught sneaking back into the house past curfew. “Whatever do you mean?”

I lean back and waved my hand dismissively. “Come now. This is a story about courage, especially here in Book 1. Charles arc is about overcoming, and helping others overcome, their own fears. Am I wrong?”

When she didn’t reply, I continued, “And if you are the antagonist, you must serve as a foil. Ergo, you would have to be motivated by fear.” My smile turns malicious and I lean forward to rest my elbows on the table. “So then, tell me, O Queen, what are you so afraid of? And what do you intend to do about it?”

31 January 2023

Between this and my interview with Bethany later, it doesn’t paint Arylwen in the best light. I promise she’s cool, and is a good person! I’m working on finding the scenes that show that the best.

So, for context in the scene below; this is happening in Book 2, roughly a decade (maybe a bit more) after the other Majesty scenes I’ve posted. The main cast is in their late teens or early twenties. They met Bethany sometime during Book 1, and she was a nobleman’s daughter, and very shy to boot. Arylwen wasn’t impressed. I don’t think she did anything actively malicious, but she definitely let Bethany know about her disapproval.

By the time of this scene, things have at least hit a status quo of some kind; I don’t know yet if Arylwen has merely accepted Bethany’s presence, or if she actually considers Bethany a friend. Regardless, it’s still a big deal that Bethany was able to blow up at her like this. Charles and Arylwen have been getting closer together, and Arylwen’s starting to freak out about it, since romance isn’t something easy to understand. She says something rude (I don’t know what yet), and Bethany reacts.

Arylwen was interrupted by a sudden stinging on her cheek. She looked in shock at Bethany–quiet, timid Bethany–and could barely believe the girl had slapped her.

Bethany certainly wasn’t timid now. She glared up at Arylwen, the corners of her eyes glistening. “Charles isn’t like that. You know Charles isn’t like that. And I’ll never forgive you if you ever say something so cruel about him again.”

Arylwen wanted to get mad. To return Bethany’s slap with twice the force, to scream and shout obscenities. But that prick in her heart she’d been ignoring held her back. What good would it do to get mad at Bethany, when Arylwen knew she was right? With some reluctance, Arylwen relaxed the fists at her side.

Bethany nodded once, like that’s what she’d expected. She turned to walk away, but first she said, “If you don’t want him, fine. At least have the courage to reject him properly. I’d be more than happy to finally have a chance with him, and I’m not the only one.” She began to walk off.

A spike of anger flared in Arylwen’s chest. “Are you calling me a coward?”

Bethany spun around and returned Arylwen’s glare with a steely one of her own. “Aren’t you? Charles is willing to lay everything down for you, and all you can do is belittle his efforts behind his back? What, exactly, is brave and noble about that, miss dragon?”

Once again, Arylwen was at an utter loss for words. This time, when Bethany stalked off, Arylwen let her go.

31 December 2022 part 2

And with this, we are finally caught up; exactly one week behind my actual writing. That felt good.

More shenanigans with Charles and Elliott. I think I made Elliott too arrogant for this section; I don’t have a solid enough grasp on his character and how it shifts over the trilogy. His side of the story is, unfortunately, something of a tragedy, in contrast to Charles’ more heroic arc. I’d like to foreshadow that, of course, but I still need Elliott to be relatable, and a respected member of the team before all that goes down, which is hard to nail down.

The ship name—the Dragon’s Flight—is more than just a pun. It’s also not set in stone, so if I come up with something better I’ll use that instead.

Jasper raised an eyebrow and sat back. “Why?”

Charles blinked. He hadn’t expected that. “Um, well, he’s my friend. And he’s a prince, even if he doesn’t have a country right now, and, and–”

One of the wyverns hopped down and sniffed at Charles, who squeaked and stepped back. Jasper asked him, “Are you scared, little man?”

This was it. He was dead. Charles gulped and nodded, but rather than give up words started pouring out of his mouth. “I-I know you hate cowards, and you’re probably going to kill me ‘cause I’m so scared, b-but at least promise you’ll set Elliott free! He hasn’t even had a chance to try to take [our country] back yet, and he’s amazing, not like me, so if he had help–”

Jasper gave a signal, and another wyvern shrieked and snapped at Charles, silencing him. With a languid air, Jasper rose to his feet and began to circle around the boy, eying him up and down. Once he was back in front of Charles, he squatted down on his haunches and looked the boy in the eyes. “Let me get this straight. You’re freaking terrified of me, and you’re dead certain I’m gonna kill you. And even then, you came down here on the off chance you might be able to get me to let your friend go. That right?”

Charles nodded. Jasper tilted his head, almost ninety degrees, and narrowed his eyes. “This wasn’t some order from that princeling, was it?”

With a shake of his head, Charles replied, “Elliott told me I was b-being stupid actually. But, if you’re just going to sell him back to [the Conqueror], I had to try something. I think she’d do worse things to him than just kill him.”

Only the sound of the wyverns shuffling about could be heard. Charles began to sweat bullets, but he held very still, and even tried to hold his breath.

Then Jasper started laughing, and Charles about fell over. The pirate king clapped Charles on the back, hard enough it stung, and said, “I like you, kid. You’ve got guts. Alright, I’ll give you lot a chance. We’ll see if this princeling measures up.”

For a moment, Charles couldn’t believe his ears. It worked? He’d done it? By the time it sank in, Jasper had already pushed him above deck. Then all the tension drained out of Charles’ body, and he fainted to the floor of the deck, with a smile on his face.

The next day, Charles and Elliott were reunited. Elliott rubbed his wrists where his manacles had chafed, his displeasure clearly evident on his face. He looked at Charles in wonder. “What the heck did you say to him?”

Charles shrugged. “I don’t really get it, either.”

The ship they were on pulled up alongside another, smaller vessel. Probably another one of the ships in Jasper’s pirate armada. The crew pulled out planks to lay between them, and they herded Charles and Elliott across.

Elliott looked around, and with what little dignity he could muster he demanded, “Where’s the captain?”

“That’d be me.” A tall woman strode toward them wearing a loose, patched-up tunic, and a pair of breeches with one leg torn off at the knee. She had dark brown hair that fell around her shoulders in waves, and piercing green eyes that seemed to peer into the depths of Charles’ soul. He shivered, but he tried to match her gaze as long as he could.

Elliott opened his mouth to say something, but the woman held up a finger. She studied him next, then pointed at Charles. “You’re the one Jasper was telling me about? The one that impressed him?”

Charles shrugged. “I, I think so. I talked to him yesterday, at least.” 

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Well. Looks can be deceiving, then.” She turned to Elliott. “As for you… The princeling, right? You’re just as he described, so far.”

Elliott’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he frowned. “And what does that mean?”

The woman ignored him, and instead looked over them one more time and sighed. “I’ve really got my work cut out for me this time.” Before either of them could respond, she pointed her thumb at herself and said, “I’m Moira. You can call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Ma’am’. From now on, you’re not princes or servants or any of that. You are deckhands aboard the Dragon’s Flight, and that means you answer to me. Is that clear?”

Charles saluted and said, “Yes, Ma’am!”, but Elliott just glowered. “I’m not some lowly deckhand; I am a prince, and–”

“You were a prince, you mean,” Moira cut in. “You have no country, no authority, and no reason for me to respect you. If you want to change that–any of it–you start by doing what I say. Am I clear?”

“But–”

“Am I clear?”

Elliott shut his mouth, and his face turned pink. He bowed his head. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. You actually can learn; that’s a good sign.” She looked up into the rigging and whistled.

28 December 2022

This story is actually an idea I’ve had for a long time now - at least a year, maybe two. It was a fusion of a vague idea I had about dragons being associated with the concept of majesty/majestic, and a dream I had of a pirate king who hated cowards. It kind of converged into this story where kings and heroes become dragons the more “majestic” they are (100% my own subjective opinion right now; I may or may not figure out specific rules later).

It’s planned to be a trilogy, with each book occurring at a different phase of Charles’ life. It’s one of my focus stories for January, actually, and hopefully one of the drafts I plan to finish this year. Also, random trivia fact, for the longest time Jasper was called “Jack” in my head, despite my image of him being nothing like Sparrow/Johnny Depp.

When Charles stepped down below deck, he was shaking in his boots. Everyone had heard how ruthless Jasper the Pirate King could be. And worse, everyone knew how much he hated cowards. Charles wasn’t 100% sure, but he figured he counted, and Jasper would kill him.

But if he didn’t at least try, Elliott would just get sold off, or worse. So down he went, until he stood in front of Jasper’s makeshift throne, with a huge flock of wyverns eying him from everywhere throughout the room.

Jasper himself was quite intimidating. He wasn’t a large man, per se - he was only of average height, and wiry, rather than bulky. But there was a sharpness to his gaze, and he had a subtle tension that made Charles feel like a mouse caught in a serpent’s gaze.

For several long minutes, Jasper said nothing. Finally he confirmed, “You’re that boy that was on the ship we boarded yesterday, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Don’t ‘sir’ me, kid. If you have to call me something, call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Your Majesty’.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.” The words still felt wrong to Charles. After spending his whole life calling the old king that, it felt uncomfortable to use the title for someone else.

Jasper’s face soured, and he leaned forward. “So, what do you want, little man?”

Charles bit his lower lip, then mustered up his courage and said, “I want you to release Prince Elliott!”

7 October 2022

I really wanted to see how Hanako looked from outside, so I found someone for her to save to witness what that might be like. That was a lot of fun to write. I later renamed “Burtin” to “Satoru”, to better fit the general vibe of the setting.

The fight scene after that was disappointing, and I struggled to get into it. The next day I actually took graph paper and mapped it out, which did wonders for my choreography.

Burtin’s hands shook as he held the sword up, pointing at the soldier in front of him. His sister clung to his back, shaking as much as he was. The soldier sneered. “You sure you want to do that?”

Burtin didn’t take his eyes off the soldier, but he told his sister, “Get inside.” Rather than listen to him, though, she just tightened her grip on his shirt.

The soldier snorted and drew his sword, but as he raised it to attack, a girl with bright red hair flew in and drove her knee into his jaw. Once she landed, Burtin was able to get a better look at her. She wore a simple white and black kamishimo with red accents. Her left hand rested on a katana, still sheathed, at her side. What startled Burtin the most, however, was the lone horn protruding proudly from her forehead.

She turned and faced Burtin. She ignored the shaking sword now pointed at her and offered a bright smile. “Most folks I meet aren’t brave enough to stand up to these guys.” She nudged the unconscious soldier with her foot. “You should be proud.”

The tip of Burtin’s sword dipped a little. “Who are you?”

The oni shrugged. “No one important.” She looked around and asked, “Say, do you know where the rest of them are at? Especially the commander, if they have one.”

Burtin lowered his sword entirely and pointed down the street. “I’m not sure, but they’re gatherin’ everythin’ over at the main square.”

After she glanced down the wa he’d pointed, she turned and gave him a sloppy salute. “Thanks!” She looked around him and waved at his sister, and then she took off, moving so fast Burtin wondered if he’d imagined it.

Dazed, Burtin turned to his sister. “Let’s get inside.” They left the soldier where he lay in the street.

As Hanako got closer to the square, she climbed up to the rooftops to avoid most of the soldiers. She arrived at the square and peered down, staying low, and counted maybe a dozen men, including the captain just below her.

“So, on squadron to raid the town, and the rest of the battalion off somewhere else,” she muttered to herself. They had two to three wagons to load their spoils onto; Hanako wondered if they’d brought those with them, or if they’d been “requisitioned” along with everything else.

There was no point in waiting any further, so Hanako jumped down onto the captain’s back. His head cracked against the ground, so she hurried to make sure she hadn’t killed him.

“Oh, good, still breathing.” Hanako looked up to see the stunned faces of the other soldiers. That only lasted a second before they pulled out their swords and rushed her.

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