DREAMS of a CLOUD
Peruse the many random ramblings of a writer-in-training as I build stories and develop my craft.
29 October 2022
Once she arrived, over half of it was already aflame. Soon she arrived at a makeshift tent that had been set up, which seemed to serve as a hospital of sorts. Among the handful inside, the boy who’d lifted a sword too big for him lay on a cot, clutching his stomach. His sister sat next to him, clutching his arm as she pleaded, “Satoru! Satoru!”
Round two on the final battle. I like this one a lot more; there’s still a few tweaks I made to it after this on the 31st, but overall, this is the core of what I used.
I’m still iffy on the general offering Hanako a place with the shogun’s army. Just feels off. But he needed to say something. I’ll likely change that at a later date, especially if I wind up doing anything more formal with this story.
Hanako didn’t know how much of what she felt was rage and how much was panic. As she jumped back toward the village, all she could think about was the village elder’s face as he’d screamed, “She’s doomed us all!”
It wasn’t long before she ran into a group of people running into the forest. She recognized the woman who’d defended her against the village elder, who seemed to be the one keeping everyone together. Hanako stopped and asked, “What’s going on?”
The woman replied, “The army attacked. A massive group of them, from the north. Benjiro gathered what people he could to slow down and let us escape, but…” She shook her head. “They’re mostly just old men and boys.”
Hanako’s chest tightened. “I’m on my way. Be careful; there was another force further that way. I took care of most of them, but there could be stragglers.”
The woman nodded. “Thank you.”
Hanako turned to leave, but she caught sight of Chiaki, with vacant eyes and tears flowing down her cheeks. “Chiaki?”
She reached out to her, but the woman from before pulled her back. “Leave her be.”
“What… what happened?”
“Her mother was one of the first to fight back; Chiaki was still there when they killed her. We managed to pull her away before anything worse happened, but…”
Ice ran through Hanako’s veins as memories of the gentle innkeeper passed through her mind. She hadn’t known the woman long, but it was enough to have earned Hanko’s respect. The beast inside Hanako’s chest strained against her control, almost breaking free, and tears pooled in her eyes, though they didn’t fall yet. “Be safe.”
“You too.” The woman waved her off, and Hanako dashed for the village.
Once she arrived, over half of it was already aflame. Soon she arrived at a makeshift tent that had been set up, which seemed to serve as a hospital of sorts. Among the handful inside, the boy who’d lifted a sword too big for him lay on a cot, clutching his stomach. His sister sat next to him, clutching his arm as she pleaded, “Satoru! Satoru!”
Hanako almost stopped, but if she didn’t take care of the army, nothing she did here would matter. So she ignored the ache in her chest and rushed toward the sound of fighting ahead. On the way, she thought she caught sight of the village elder, eyes open, sword in hand, laying in the street.
When she finally arrived at the battlefront, she saw their commander, an old, white-haired general, with the captain she’d fought in town earlier beside him. A few dozen soldiers were scattered around, fighting the last of the villagers who tried to resist.
“That’s her, sir,” the captain said. “The oni swordswoman.”
The general studied Hanako. “So Suzune failed to pin her down.”
The last threads on Hanako’s control began to fray, and she pulled out her sword. The general looked unconcerned. “You, swordswoman. You don’t carry yourself like other oni. Would you consider joining the shogun’s forces?”
Hanako was incredulous. “For what? More of this? Burned villages and murdered townsfolk?”
A few soldiers flinched at that, but the general remained impassive. “We only do the will of the shogun.”
That was the last push. The restraints on Hanako’s wrath snapped, and she roared into the army in a storm of steel and blood. Everything blurred together as tears streamed down her face. She vaguely remembered cutting down the general and the captain; there was also a group of soldiers who moved to surround her only to lose their heads. Another group tried nets; before they could throw them, though, she stomped the ground, and the weakened village buildings collapsed on top of them.
Even after the troops broke ranks and began to flee, Hanako’s wrath drove her on, and she screamed as she cut them down. By the time she came to her senses, she stood alone on a field of corpses.
Hanako sank to her knees, and gazed at the devastated village as it burned. She looked down at her blood soaked hands, and then screamed to the sky.
By the time Suzune had come to and gathered what was left of her forces, everything was over. They’d hobbled to the village, in hopes to rendezvous with the rest of the army. But when they arrived, they could only look in horror. Captain Ito watched the flames flicker against the dying light of evening; he’d been assigned as an archer to Suzune’s force, and was one of the few lucky enough to escape uninjured.
Suzune’s attention, however, wasn’t on the village, but on a lone figure kneeling in the blood and muck a little ways away. One of her other men also noticed and moved to draw his bow, but Suzune pushed it back down.
The men all looked to her. “Unless you managed to kill her with a single shot,” she explained, “which I doubt, you’d engage us in a fight we’re in no condition to win. Besides…” she looked around the devastation around them. “I think there’s been enough death here today.”
She signaled the retreat, but while the rest of her force turned to head back, she continued staring at Hanako. “Say, Captain Ito.” She spoke softly, and Ito paused. “When we die, do you think anyone will weep for us like that?”
Ito turned and looked at the red haired oni girl. “After what I’ve seen here,” he whispered, “I honestly don’t know.”
Current Draft of Hanako’s story (including unposted content)
28 October 2022
“I only do the will of the shogun.”
They held each other’s gaze for just a moment. With a yell, they charged at each other at the same moment. Once they’d crossed paths, the blade of the general’s sword fell to the ground where it had been cut, and he began to bleed at the throat. Yet he still had time to whisper, “Magnificent,” before he collapsed to the ground.
Moments later, Hanako sank to her knees, and for the first time she noticed the tears that had been streaming down her face. She looked down at her blood soaked hands, and then screamed to the sky.
So, here we are, the first draft of the final battle. It’s interesting how different it is from the forest battle with Suzune and her men; that was very technical, with the focus on the action. This one seemed to call for a more emotion-centric approach. That’s actually why I redid it; I didn’t think I pulled in enough emotional weight for Hanako’s reactions to make sense.
I thought the bit with the general was cool, though, even if the changes I made make it non-canon now.
Hanako didn’t know how much of what she felt was rage and how much was panic. As she jumped back toward the village, all she could think about was the village elder’s face as he’d screamed, “She’s doomed us all!”
By the time she’d gotten close, several buildings, including the inn, were aflame. Most of the villagers fled before the soldiers; what few tried to plead with them had been cut down. A small group was doing their best to defend the retreating masses from the army, but even at this distance Hanako could tell they wouldn’t last long.
Like a whisper in her ear, Hanako heard the words, “You’ve doomed us all.” And with that, the last tethers on her rage broke, and she roared into the rear of the army in a storm of steel and blood.
Everything blended together. She vaguely remembered a group of soldiers tried to surround her, only to lose their heads. Another group tried to throw nets and entangle her; she stomped, shaking the earth so much they dropped the nets, where she picked them up and flung them about like a flail.
Even after the troops broke ranks and began to flee, Hanako’s wrath drove her on, and she roared as she cut them down. It was only when the commander, a white-haired general stood before her that she wrenched herself out of her haze of wrath.
Around them, flames crackled and devoured the village. Hanako gestured around them. “Is this what you and your shogun want? Burned villages and murdered families? All for what?”
The general set his face to stone. “I only do the will of the shogun.”
The general had been loyal to the shogun his whole life. He did not doubt. He did not question. He simply moved as an extension of the shogun’s will.
So when he realized the village had little to nothing in the way of defenses, he thought little of it. They had sheltered an oni; therefore, they were enemies of the shogunate. It was as simple as that.
The first flickers of doubt crept into his mind, however, when he saw the village elder draw his weapon and lead the few men they had left against the army. The general had asked, “I thought you denied sheltering the oni?”
The village elder smiled wryly, even as he barely managed to turn the general’s sword away from his body. “I am ashamed to admit it, but that is the truth. Had we known what she was, we never would have let her in.”
“Ashamed?” The general waved around them. “Would that not have saved your village?”
The elder snorted. “There are worse things than death. That girl reminded me of that. We were doomed the moment you camped near our gates.”
And the general killed him. But the elder’s words struck a chord.
It was not long thereafter when the oni crashed into his army like a blazing red comet. The general watched her fight in amazement. There was no more attempts to be non-lethal; this time, she was here for the slaughter. Yet even in that, the general could not help but feel reverence at her grace and skill; he’d rarely seen that in human swordsmen, much less the monstrous oni.
Yet even then, what struck him most wasn’t her swordplay or destructive power. It was the tears that streamed down her face.
“I only do the will of the shogun.”
They held each other’s gaze for just a moment. With a yell, they charged at each other at the same moment. Once they’d crossed paths, the blade of the general’s sword fell to the ground where it had been cut, and he began to bleed at the throat. Yet he still had time to whisper, “Magnificent,” before he collapsed to the ground.
Moments later, Hanako sank to her knees, and for the first time she noticed the tears that had been streaming down her face. She looked down at her blood soaked hands, and then screamed to the sky.
Current Draft of Hanako’s story (including unposted content)
27 October 2022
“Have fun at the big mansion, Cinders?” Hadley sneered.
“Everyone knows she only got the job because she’s Matron’s favorite,” Charlene said.
Ella started to get up and reached for the pin. Before she could grab it, Hadley snatched it away. “Hey, what’s this?”
Hadley passed it to Charlene, who smirked. “This is much to fine for our ash princess. Have you become a thief, too, Ella?”
Ella bit her lower lip. “It was a gift.”
I was actually able to work on the ideas I had with Ella at the orphanage. I also had a better idea of how the timeline fit together, which helped immensely. Also, it was cool writing Ella’s conversations with the matron, as it gave me ideas for things Kal might be doing behind the scenes to help her out, and be less of a “woe is me” entitled rich boy.
Scarlet’s an interesting character, mostly because I don’t know much about her. I’ve waffled on her name (she was going to be Rachel for a while, and it’s possible, though not likely, it will change back), and on her role in the story; I thought of mixing Little Red Riding Hood in with all this, and that would be Scarlet. Seems a bit much, though, so I don’t think I’ll do that.
…ending it with a sour note.
She headed straight for the matron’s office. She rapped the door and announced, “It’s Ella, ma’am. Reporting back from the Lester’s.”
“Enter.”
Ella stepped into the room and stood at attention. Matron Birgit sat ramrod straight behind a large desk, perusing a letter. A pair of small spectacles perched at the end of her nose. She was a thin woman, but stern, like she was made of iron cables. “Was there any trouble?”
“No trouble at all, ma’am.”
“Good.” Without looking up from her letter, she tapped a telegram that sat on the desk. “The Lester’s sent word. Apparently, you did fine work; they may send for you again should the need arise.”
Ella brightened and stood up straighter. Matron Birgit gave her a once-over, noting the smudged soot on her face and clothes, before she went back to her letter. “Get cleaned up before dinner. Can’t have you tracking soot everywhere you go.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Ella bowed and left the office, and her face broke into a wide smile. The Lesters had even sent a telegram to talk about how good a job she’d done!
She was so happy, in fact, that she completely forgot to watch out for Hadley and Charlene. She was completely unprepared when Hadley stepped into the hall and shoved her over. As she fell, the pin from Kal went flying out of her coat pocket.
“Have fun at the big mansion, Cinders?” Hadley sneered.
“Everyone knows she only got the job because she’s Matron’s favorite,” Charlene said.
Ella started to get up and reached for the pin. Before she could grab it, Hadley snatched it away. “Hey, what’s this?”
Hadley passed it to Charlene, who smirked. “This is much to fine for our ash princess. Have you become a thief, too, Ella?”
Ella bit her lower lip. “It was a gift.”
Charlene’s smile turned to a scowl. “Oh, so you just got that boyfriend of yours to steal it instead. Aren’t you lucky?”
“Give it back.” Ella reached to grab it, but Charlene held it out of her reach and tossed it to Hadley. “Better go fetch it, Cinder Ella.”
As Ella turned to Hadley, the larger girl moved to throw the pin again, when another girl came up behind her and snatched it out of her hands. “There you are, Ella.”
Ella’s face lit up. “Scarlet!”
Ella and Kal Next->
26 October 2022
She kept her head low as she slipped inside, other than to make a quick glance around for Hadley and Charlene. Today was a good day, and Ella didn’t figure on ending it with a sour note.
The coast looked clear, though, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
So… I normally start with a ten- to fifteen-minute prep session to plan out what I want to write; how it might tie in with any greater story arcs, or what happens in the scene at the very least. I had an awesome planning session; I finally figured out what I wanted to do with Ella and Kai’s story, and how I wanted to proceed. And then… I got an important phone call, and had to step away to take care of some important business. It was good, and it was all things that needed to be taken care of, however… By the time I got back to writing, I’d fallen completely out of the flow, and nothing I did could get me back into it. So all I had for the day was this.
As she approached the orphanage, Ella admired the pin one last time and giggled to herself, before she slipped it away into one of her pockets. She didn’t know what Matron Birgit might do if she saw it; take it for herself, like as not, or accuse Ella of thievery. Or both. Either way, Ella didn’t want to find out.
She kept her head low as she slipped inside, other than to make a quick glance around for Hadley and Charlene. Today was a good day, and Ella didn’t figure on ending it with a sour note.
The coast looked clear, though, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She darted over to the mess hall, where Scarlet, Ella’s only friend beside Kal, stood by the pot. Must be her turn to serve the soup. Ella took a deep breath and savored the scent; it was a good soup today.
Still, best get things squared away with Matron Birgit first. The happier the matron was, the easier things were for everyone.
25 October 2022
Desiree’s father was an idiot. That was the only explanation she could think of.
Such were her thoughts as she sat, locked in a room full of straw, with a promise that she’d be dead come morning if it didn’t all magically turn to gold by the time the king returned.
Rumpelstiltskin always struck me as such a weird story. Why on earth would a father make such an outrageous, easily disproven claim? Why does the fact the girl can’t actually do it never come up in her marriage later? What does Rumpelstiltskin even want with a child?
This version only directly addresses one of those; what if, after watching Rumpelstiltskin for those several nights, the protagonist does learn how to do it? How does that change her story and her relationships with the royal family? The other two will likely get touched on, assuming I do continue the story. I think it’s likely, after Nanowrimo ends; this was a fun one.
Desiree’s father was an idiot. That was the only explanation she could think of.
Such were her thoughts as she sat, locked in a room full of straw, with a promise that she’d be dead come morning if it didn’t all magically turn to gold by the time the king returned.
As she paced, she briefly considered using the lanterns to light the whole place on fire, just to spite everyone. That wouldn’t do her any good, though, and even if by some miracle it worked, she’d be hurting the wrong people. With a groan, she sank to the floor and leaned her back against the spinning wheel.
A moment later, there was a loud POP!, and a strange man appeared from thin air. He was short, not even five feet tall, and sported a long, red beard. His hair flew about in all directions, and his clothes looked tattered at first glance; however, when Desiree looked closer, she realized they were made of fine silk, and the rips and tears had been artfully arranged, and even embellished in places with fine embroidery.
He shot her a crooked smile and said, “Now, that’s unusual. Most damsels like yourself in distress are reduced to tears by the time I arrive.”
Desiree gave him a flat look. “And who are you?”
With a flourish, the strange man bowed to her. “I am merely a humble tradesman, here to repay my debt to your father.”
Desiree snorted and gestured around the room. “Well, unless you can either spin straw to gold or grant my dolt of a father his proper share of wits, I’m not sure what you can do to help.”
“Alas, the second is impossible. I tried, once; I think that ruined what little wit he had left.” The man winked at Desiree, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “But the first? That I can do.”
He shooed Desiree away from the spinning wheel, and like a maestro taking his place before a grand piano, he flared his coat, took a seat, and began to spin.
Desiree watched with wonder as the straw began to turn into threads of gold beneath the strange man’s fingers. It was as if he plucked the very color from the straw, discarding the rest, and spun it until it shone as bright as summer sunlight. She was so enraptured, she didn’t even notice when the sun’s rays began to peek through the eastern window.
The man, however, did notice. He finished off the last bit of straw and bowed once more to Desiree. “Well, that is that, and my debt is repaid. Farewell, Desiree, daughter of Oscar.” Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.
Moments later, the door to the cell opened, and the king, accompanied by two of his guards, strode in. He glanced at the pile of gold in the corner of the room. “There’s less than I thought there would be.”
Desiree was incredulous. “You forced me to spend all night locked up in here, with threat of death if I didn’t spin all the straw into gold, and now you’re complaining there’s not enough? What on earth were you expecting?”
The king, at least, had the decency to look somewhat ashamed. “Yes, well. Well done.”
Desiree sighed. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It’s been a long night. May I return home?”
The king blinked a few times. “Ah, you probably would miss your family. Very well, you may go see them; my son will escort you. But return here by tomorrow night. There’s much work to be done.”
Cold sweat dripped down Desiree’s back, and once more she cursed her father for a fool.
24 October 2022
The archers fired at Hanko, but she dodged them and closed in on the nearest swordsman. She drove her fist into his solar plexus and dropped him, and then kicked one of the fallen trees into the chest of the other one.
Suzune began to laugh, and unable to contain herself any longer, she jumped in. She swung the kanabo down as she landed, but Hanako rolled backward, clearing the log behind her.
This was fun. I’d actually taken graph paper to map out where everyone was and how they moved, and it is such a mess. I’m glad I took notes “round by round” so I could understand what was happening because that map looks illegible now. It does make it clear where all the action is concentrated, though.
The mapping and choreography actually happened on the 22, while I was watching the black belt clinic my brother had organized it, but I got home super late that night and didn’t want to feel rushed to write this scene in its entirety before bed.
Suzune headed the force as they followed the road through the forest. The other officers claimed she was “more likely to survive an ambush”, not that she minded. Up front was where she was most likely to satisfy her battle-lust.
Even she couldn’t hide her surprise, though, when they found a redheaded girl cheerily eating lunch off the side of the road. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she wore a simple kamishiro with red accents. To make the image particularly surreal, a cart filled with tied up ahlf-naked men was parked beside her. Suzune recognized some of them from the missing members of Takamoto’s squad.
The girl looked up and beamed at them. “Good afternoon!” Her eyes locked onto Suzune. For a moment, the girl was stunned silent, but then she rushed up. “Are you an oni, too? I hadn’t expected to meet one here! I thought the shogun hated yokai? Oh, is that a kanabo!? I’ve never actually seen one in real life before!”
This was the oni swordswoman? Suzune couldn’t help feeling bitter as she swallowed her disappointment. The girl couldn’t be any older than she was, and stood a full head shorter than her. Suzune moved her kanabo out of the girl’s reach and asked, “So you’re the oni swordmaster we’ve heard about?”
The girl stepped back and scratched the back of her head sheepishly. “Ah, yeah, probably. They kicked me out of the village when they learned what I was.” She held out her hand for a handshake. “I’m Hanako. What’s your name?”
Behind her back, Suzune signaled the archers to get ready to fire, while the rest of her men began circling around to surround Hanako. “Lieutenant Suzune.” She shot an inquisitive look over Hanako at the cart.
“Oh, right. These are all the guys that got left behind earlier. We sold their armor, though; hope you don’t mind.”
“We”, huh? So that bit about getting kicked out was Hanako’s attempt to protect the village. Suzune pretended not to notice and motion to a couple of her men, who retrieved the cart and began pulling it back towards camp.
As soon as it was clear, Suzune signaled the archers to fire. However, as soon as they released, Hanako inhaled and let out a roar so powerful it deflected all but a few of the arrows, which she avoided with ease.
Suzune’s eyes widened, and her lips curled into a feral smile. In the split second before Hanako roared, Suzune swore the redhead’s expression turned to stone, and the pressure she exuded now was nothing like it was before. Afterward, her skin returned to normal, but that pressure hadn’t left.
Still, Hanako wore a half-cocked smile as she said, “You really shouldn’t do this. Against this many opponents, I don’t think I can hold back. People might get killed.”
Suzune snorted. “That’s part of what it means to be a soldier.” She gave a shout, and everyone moved in.
In response, Hanako’s smile dropped. “Alright, then.” She raised one foot. Her skin flashed crimson and her hair turned white as she stomped the ground and unleashed a massive shockwave; every tree within a hundred meters toppled over. Most of Suzune’s forces had been pinned or knocked unconscious, and a few were likely crushed. Suzune herself had to jump back to avoid getting caught, but the part of her that thrived on battle could only rejoice.
Still, she kept enough composure to check that the cart with the returned soldiers was fine, and confirmed that only a handful of archers remained. Near Hanako, a group of spearmen picked themselves back up, and a pair of swordsmen drew their weapons and tried to circle around her.
The archers fired at Hanko, but she dodged them and closed in on the nearest swordsman. She drove her fist into his solar plexus and dropped him, and then kicked one of the fallen trees into the chest of the other one.
Suzune began to laugh, and unable to contain herself any longer, she jumped in. She swung the kanabo down as she landed, but Hanako rolled backward, clearing the log behind her.
A few more arrows streaked in, but Hanako drew her sword to divert them only to resheathe it. Suzune’s rage pulsed over the battlefield; this girl dared fight her without her weapon drawn?
The spearmen, meanwhile, did their best to circle around and pin Hanako down. One got close enough to thrust his spear at Hanako; she grabbed it and used it as leverage to launch a hook kick at Suzune’s head.
Suzune blocked, but she was shocked at the force of the kick; it might have even cracked one of the bones in her forearm. She made a point to pay attention when Hanako pulled the spearman in and delivered a palm strike to his chin. Whereas every other oni Suzune had encountered just let their rage run rampant in battle, this swordswoman channeled it somehow. She unleashed it only at the moment of impact. Through her own haze of battle-lust, Suzune wondered if she’d be able to do the same thing.
Mostly, though, Suzune was simply ecstatic to have such a worthy foe. She swung her club backhanded and to try to knock Hanako’s head from her shoulders, but the swordswoman ducked underneath it and jabbed her in the ribs. One or two probably cracked, but the pain just made Suzune laugh even harder.
The last couple spearmen finally navigated through the fallen trees well enough to lunge at Hanako. However, she stepped to the right, blocked the spear coming form that direction, and grabbed that spearman and hurled him into the other.
Suzune took a half-step back, picked up one of the trees, and threw it at Hanako. Hanako ducked around again, and was about to attack when something above the treeline caught her attention.
Suzune turned to see what was going on. A column of smoke drifted up on the horizon, right about where the village should be. She turned back to face Hanako, but she only had a split second to watch as Hanako’s expression morphed from horror to pure, unbridled rage. Then something heavy impacted Suzune’s chest, and she went flying. By the time her back struck a tree, almost 100 meters away, Hanako had already leapt into the air toward the village. The force of the jump was so strong it cracked the earth and formed a crater.
As the battle-lust faded and her consciousness began to drift in and out, Suzune wondered, “Just what have we unleashed?” Then she sank into darkness.
Current Draft of Hanako’s story (including unposted content)
23 October 2022
One day, in the evening after Aislin had washed up, she entered the main hall and found an older woman, who appeared to be overwhelmed with the grandiose nature of the main hall. With a gentle smile, Aislin approached the older woman. “Good evening. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Oh, um, no, that’s alright.” She looked up at Aislin and relaxed a bit. “I just wanted to think for a moment.”
Aislin studied the woman. “If you prefer, we also have a small garden over this way. It might be easier to think there.”
Something I strongly believe is that our struggles, our challenges, our painful moments have the power to make us more empathetic. It doesn’t always happen; it’s a choice to recognize someone else’s pain. And no matter how similar the situations may seem on the surface, there’s always nuances that keep us from knowing exactly how someone feels. But we can get close, and there is beauty in that, and I think that’s one way we can trade beauty for ashes.
As I mentioned before, I’ve done away with the “trial” bit; Aislin is in a sort of probationary period with the trial, where they’re trying to figure out what to do with her, and she’s trying to figure out how long she’s going to stay before she bails. Similar to the last one, though she decides to stick around long enough to fix this garden, which is now just a normal garden their goddess mandated they keep, even though none of the priests or priestesses are willing to risk getting their clothes dirty to keep it maintained.
She got to work. The two acolytes, who were named Owen and Cordelia, followed her instructions when asked, but between their obvious reluctance to get their hands dirty and their unfamiliarity with even basic gardening practices, Aislin was inclined to handle things herself.
She weeded and trimmed, planted and fertilized, over the next several days. She didn’t care about the dirt on the simple dresses she was provided or the sweat that beaded on her forehead. She cleaned and groomed herself, of course, but took little care beyond that.
One day, in the evening after Aislin had washed up, she entered the main hall and found an older woman, who appeared to be overwhelmed with the grandiose nature of the main hall. With a gentle smile, Aislin approached the older woman. “Good evening. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Oh, um, no, that’s alright.” She looked up at Aislin and relaxed a bit. “I just wanted to think for a moment.”
Aislin studied the woman. “If you prefer, we also have a small garden over this way. It might be easier to think there.”
The old woman visibly brightened. “Oh, that would be lovely!”
Aislin walked the old woman over to the garden, along with Cordelia, who was her assistant on-shift at the moment. Once the old woman was seated, she admired the garden and relaxed. “Thank you, dearie.”
“Of course.” The two sat in silence for several long minutes, while Cordelia shuffled around awkwardly off to the side.
Eventually, the old woman began to speak. “This place is quite special, isn’t it? Not that the main hall is bad, but it is hard to relax there.”
“Between you and me,” Aislin whispered, “I do think it’s a bit too much.”
The old woman chuckled, and Cordelia frowned but didn’t say anything. Another moment passed, and the old woman said, “I’ve been a little lost. My Cedric passed away just recently, and it’s been so hard.”
Aislin could relate. “Did he go peacefully, at least?”
“Oh, yes.” The old woman nodded. “But… he’s been by my side so long, and now it just feels… empty.”
22 October 2022
My mind froze with horror, and I was whisked away to an imaginary battlefield, where elven sorcerers unleashed powerful magics on a faceless horde. It was devastating; if they’d been real people, thousands would have died within seconds. However…
Inside my head, Elsenaia grew bewildered as the setting changed. From afar, based on the video clips I’d seen of them, clips of various mushroom clouds started to play. Then the image zoomed in to blasted homes, vaporized shadows against what remained of the walls showing where people stood. Empty. Desolate. Even the ground was poisoned.
“What is this?” Elsenaia whispered.
This one is a bit heavier than most of the Elsenaia story. I’m not really sure what to say about it, other than what the POV character says below. I hope it’s not something we ever have to deal with again. I don’t know if the things I suggest happen would actually happen, but it’s not hard to imagine. And this story takes place inside the heads of these two; it’s what they imagine, and sometimes our imaginations are a lot scarier than real life.
due to my efforts to wrap up the current Hanako arc before Nanowrimo started, this is actually the last post in Elsenaia as of 11 November 2022. I’m not done yet, though.
…vanished back into my head.
I entered the library to examine the bookshelves, but I heard a cold but dignified male voice from behind me.
“You must find out what they are capable of. I doubt they have anything that can compete with our magics, but humans are cunning, and should never be underestimated.”
I looked back and found a projection of Elsenaia’s father speaking to a faceless version of her. His arms were clasped behind his back, and he faced away from her.
“Yes, Father. And once I return?”
The king turned around. “We make sure they will never be able to threaten us again. If necessary, we will eliminate them.”
My mind froze with horror, and I was whisked away to an imaginary battlefield, where elven sorcerers unleashed powerful magics on a faceless horde. It was devastating; if they’d been real people, thousands would have died within seconds. However…
Inside my head, Elsenaia grew bewildered as the setting changed. From afar, based on the video clips I’d seen of them, clips of various mushroom clouds started to play. Then the image zoomed in to blasted homes, vaporized shadows against what remained of the walls showing where people stood. Empty. Desolate. Even the ground was poisoned.
“What is this?” Elsenaia whispered. I appeared behind her and consciously shifted the image to a Japanese hospital room, where a sick girl folded origami cranes, hoping to recover after her blood had been poisoned by a flash of light roughly a decade earlier.
“It’s called a nuke, or nuclear weapon,” I whispered. “The devastation was so horrific the one time it was used, the world as a whole has an unspoken agreement not to use them. The damage it would cause the rest of the world, even opposite where it strikes, is almost unbelievable. However, you’re not from our world, are you?”
As the implication sunk in, I pictured what might happen if the elves tried to protect the portal. Would we just fly jets above them? Or perhaps troops of elves would fall to machine guns. An image of D-day popped into my head, as men stormed a beach only to get gunned down by a storm of bullets.
“Would,,, would your people really do that?” Elsenaia asked in horror. I could see her imagination as it conjured the image of her home as it vaporized.
“We did it once already,” I whispered. I remembered the war magics Elsenaia had pictured. “No matter who, people fear what they don’t understand. And fear makes people very stupid sometimes.” I grimace. “And the risks that usually prevent the use of nuclear weapons don’t apply to your country. Especially if your magics cause unexpected destruction to people in our world, the outrage of the people may demand it. Unless your magic can shatter the very planet itself, it won’t win the war outright, and the more destructive, the more it’ll kick up the hornet’s nest.”
<-Elsenaia First
Elsenaia Next->
21 October 2022
After my short hiatus, where I struggled with motivations, I started trying to plan out my big battles with the shogun’s army for this mini-arc. It occurred to me, though, that their status as “monster hunters” is kind of an informed attribute at this point. They don’t feel like a real threat; Hanako curb-stomps them way too easily. That… is still the case, actually, but I at least wanted to come up with strategies and things the army would use to handle creatures with superhuman abilities so they don’t feel so completely incompetent. And this was my way of doing that.
After my short hiatus, where I struggled with motivations, I started trying to plan out my big battles with the shogun’s army for this mini-arc. It occurred to me, though, that their status as “monster hunters” is kind of an informed attribute at this point. They don’t feel like a real threat; Hanako curb-stomps them way too easily. That… is still the case, actually, but I at least wanted to come up with strategies and things the army would use to handle creatures with superhuman abilities so they don’t feel so completely incompetent. And this was my way of doing that.
I’d initially wanted it to be more of a “life in the day of a trainee”, but it turned into more of an info dump. I did learn a lot about different kinds of yokai (youkai?) researching for this, though.
Here I am! A soldier in the shogun’s great army, to protect my family against the terrifying yokai horde!
Okay, so maybe it’s all a bit scary, but I’m proud to be here. Shou has already had to knock me out of my reverie a few times; there are so many amazing officers and heroes here!
Ah, time to pay attention. They’re going to teach us how to fight all the different kinds of yokai.
First up, oni. Apparently they’re not all massive; some can be as short as 1.5 meters tall, though the big ones can get up to 3. They have one or two horns on their forehead, but their most distinctive feature is their supernatural strength. They wield massive iron clubs called kanabo.
Known weaknesses include their love of alcohol, and how quick they are to anger. If you know their are oni in an area, you could poison or drug a barrel or two of wine and march it near them. Soporifics tend to be the most effective, as they are resistant to most lethal poisons.
Their anger makes them easy to manipulate, even if they also get stronger the angrier they are. Particularly dim oni have been known to run all around the battlefield, never landing a strike, simply because the army baited them different directions with their attacks.
Their high defense, though, makes it hard to do meaningful damage even in advantageous circumstances. It’s recommended to use strong piercing weapons, like warpicks, rather than swords. Also, do not try to fight one alone; always take a minimum of two to three to fight an oni. More clever or experienced oni may require twenty to thirty.
Next are the ushi-oni. They have an ox head on what could be a six-legged spider’s body. They are ferocious monsters that spit poison. Not many of them exist in the yokai army, but they are incredibly dangerous; it’s best to attack from range to avoid their poison.
Jorogumo, while not usually part of the yokai army, are still a major threat that need to be eradicated. Normally giant spiders, they can turn into beautiful women to lure in prey. When a jorogumo lair is identified, light the interior on fire and stop or blockade the entrance.
Tengu are often the commanders of the yokai army. They are exceedingly proud. As avians, they often fly above the battlefield; it’s recommended archers focus fire on them first when they fly within range.
17 October 2022
“Welcome,” Mohg declared with a theatrical flair, “to the Moghwyn Dynasty! A land of adventure, intrigue, and glory awaits you!”
Rykard, his younger step-brother, groaned. “Can we just get to the game already?” The bags under his eyes could have explained his irritability, but everyone present knew that was just his natural state.
I was in something of a slump at this point, even starting a few days earlier I think. I actually didn’t write anything for the next three days after this; it wasn’t exactly ideal.
For the story itself, I’m a pretty big fan of Elden Ring, and my brother and I had been bouncing around ideas for our own high school AU for the shardbearers. There are some places where we definitely break canon, and as it was supposed to be a more light-hearted universe, certain things are changed (like changing Mohg’s unhealthy fixation on Miquella to be less sexual and more over-exuberant older sibling, or removing Shabriri, Seluvis, and the Dung Eater completely). I have at least one, maybe two other fanfic AUs in my head that I may or may not ever get around to writing.
Also, I forgot Varre. He’s definitely there, probably playing a cleric of some kind. Or a paladin. Or something.
“Welcome,” Mohg declared with a theatrical flair, “to the Moghwyn Dynasty! A land of adventure, intrigue, and glory awaits you!”
Rykard, his younger step-brother, groaned. “Can we just get to the game already?” The bags under his eyes could have explained his irritability, but everyone present knew that was just his natural state.
“Right.” Mohg deflated. “Then, could everyone introduce their characters?” He gestured to Rykard to start.
Rykard rolled his eyes. “I’m playing S’goth, a yuan-ti warlock, with a Fiend patron. I’ve been searching for something a long time now.”
Mohg beamed at him, then gestured to Phil, a tall senior who’d arrived in a massive hooded cloak. “I am playing the Sanguine Noble, an arcane trickster rogue who bathes in the blood of his enemies!”
When he heard that, Rykard cocked his head. “Does that mean our characters are allowed to be evil?”
Mohg shrugged. “So long as you don’t get too crazy and it doesn’t ruin party dynamics, I don’t mind.”
For the first time since arriving, Rykard’s pale face broke into a smile. The other four shuddered.
Mohg turned toward the next player expectantly. Miquella looked up at him, back down at his character sheet, and back up at Mohg before he finally asked, “Um, what am I doing here again?”
“We are playing D&D, where you will go on epic quests, discover hidden treasures, and more. You’re playing a life domain cleric.”
16 October 2022
The high priestess led Aislin deeper into the temple to a moderately large courtyard garden. At the center, a statue of a beautiful woman extended her right hand to offer a rose, while her left hand rested on a sheathed sword. Around the statue, and even creeping up it, the garden was overgrown, and very much at odds with the carefully arranged design of the rest of the temple.
“No one is allowed in this garden except those who are attempting the trial.”
When I wrote this, I was too focused on moving Aislin to being a combat-capable knight, like in the picture that inspired the story (by Sandara). I fixated on the idea of Aislin earning her place as champion, somehow, and being awarded with martial prowess or in-depth training or something. When I came back to it on the 23, I could see the problems, so a lot of this is no longer applicable, if not outright non-canon. But it was fun to write, and I’m pretty happy with the idea I came up with for a trial given by a goddess of beauty.
For a minute or so, Aislin just studied the high priestess. “At a time when I believed nothing could be right or good or beautiful anymore, and my life was gray, the Eternal Rose comforted me, and showed me the quiet beauty all around me. I wanted to thank her, and to help others the way she helped me.”
The high priestess nodded. She herself looked around at the priests and priestesses, and at the lavish temple. Perhaps a change was in order. “Perhaps the Rose guided you to us. Would you be willing to take the trial of the rose?”
The other priests and priestesses began to mutter amongst themselves, and several of them smiled maliciously. Aislin ignored them all and asked, “What is this trial?”
“It is a method the Eternal Rose uses to select her champions,” the high priestess explained. “Come. I will show you.”
The high priestess led Aislin deeper into the temple to a moderately large courtyard garden. At the center, a statue of a beautiful woman extended her right hand to offer a rose, while her left hand rested on a sheathed sword. Around the statue, and even creeping up it, the garden was overgrown, and very much at odds with the carefully arranged design of the rest of the temple.
“No one is allowed in this garden except those who are attempting the trial,” the high priestess explained. “If you can take the rose the goddess offers, then you have passed the trial. You may spend as long as you like, but once you try to grab it, that is the end of your trial one way or another. If you take long enough to need them, here is a room here where you can rest and bathe, and food and water will be provided.”
Aislin pondered to herself what she should do. This seemed little more than an attempt to force her to leave, but perhaps she could teach them some of what she knew of beauty before she left. “Very well.”
Two acolytes were assigned to see to her needs, and they begrudgingly took her things and showed her to her room. She thanked them, then went and stepped into the sacred garden.
Inside, it was even more wild and overgrown than she initially thought. Traces of a once-beautiful garden could be seen here and there, and though the untamed feel it had also carried a certain beauty, Aislin mourned the loss of what could be. It struck her that once she left, no one would be allowed to even try to tend the garden.
15 October 2022
I did notice, however, that none of the memories showed Elsenaia when she was a kid. At first, I assumed that was because magic training started at an older age, but then I caught a glimpse of a child Elsenaia smiling happily at her tutor, and I began to wonder.
Before I could investigate more closely, however, those same mirror walls came down around the memory and pulled it back into the depths of her mind.
While I was thinking about Elsenaia and what she might be looking for specifically, I realized rather than random searching, she’d probably prioritize the POV character’s opinion of elves, and what information he had about them. So I’ve edited one portion, then continued on.
Editing a portion of 10 October 2022:
…undercut the dignity she tried to project, but my recent memories of our encounter with her and her people surfaced soon enough. She picked apart my impressions of each of them; in particular, she seemed pleased, but bashful, when she saw I initially thought of her as “beautiful”, though that quickly turned to indignation once I’d written her off as a spoiled brat.
From there, she began to look at my opinion of elves in general, and she pulled up everything from “The Lord of the Rings” movies to D&D. That left me free to turn my attention back to the dioramas, and I found…
Continuing the main storyline:
…”So what do you know of that could cause this?”
She just shook her head. I sighed and said, “Well, feel free to keep poking around my head until you’re satisfied.”
Still unsatisfied, she turned back to her search. She seemed quite preoccupied, so I was able to slip out of the mirror room back into the hall. It seems the mirrors had come down to seal off that one painting and whatever memories it brought up.
The idea that I wasn’t supposed to be here kept nagging at me, so I started looking for memories about magic. Who knows? Maybe I could learn some magic of my own from watching her. I doubted it, but that would be cool.
I popped into a few of her practice sessions, but nothing specific, especially not about mind-reading or memory manipulation. I did notice, however, that none of the memories showed Elsenaia when she was a kid. At first, I assumed that was because magic training started at an older age, but then I caught a glimpse of a child Elsenaia smiling happily at her tutor, and I began to wonder.
Before I could investigate more closely, however, those same mirror walls came down around the memory and pulled it back into the depths of her mind.
I peeked back in my head, but Elsenaia didn’t have any particular reaction; I couldn’t be sure if she’d just accepted my presence, or if repressing those memories came so naturally to her she no longer even noticed.
As I continued my search, I found a pair of old wooden doors that led into a grand library. I stood in the doorway for several seconds, just gawking. “Well, color me impressed.”
A chill wind blew down the hallway, and Elsenaia appeared behind me. “What are you doing?”
I shrugged. “Looking for information on magic. I wanted to see if there was anything in your head about why I’m here, and not over there.”
For a long time, Elsenaia just stared at me. “Fine.”
14 October 2022
From the side, Lieutenant Nakamura, one of the youngest of the senior officers, snorted. “Another intelligent oni? Isn’t one enough?”
Several of the officers glanced up at the horns on Suzune’s head, but she ignored them. “Even the more bestial youkai have a certain measure of cunning, Lieutenant Nakamura. And losing to one of them would cost you more than just your dignity.”
So here we are; the most up-to-date version of Suzune’s introduction. It has plenty of issues - there’s no reference to Suzune’s blue skin, for one - but I still feel pretty satisfied with it for the current draft.
I think the biggest difference was that I’d taken the time to identify a few other members in the meeting, and their general attitudes. This worked great; I have plans now for both Nakamura and Ito in the future that came about as I planned out the final battle in this arc. I feel like both of them will enrich the story, compared to what it would have been.
Suzune, adoptive daughter to the shogun himself, stood behind and to the right of the general’s chair as his aide-de-camp. After Captain Takamoto had returned with only half his squad and no supplies, the general had ordered and emergency staff meeting.
“And this lone oni girl is the one that forced you and your men to retreat?” the general confirmed.
“Yes, General. But she fought like no other we’ve encountered. She was no enraged beast, but a blade in the wind. Please do not underestimate her, despite our failure.”
From the side, Lieutenant Nakamura, one of the youngest of the senior officers, snorted. “Another intelligent oni? Isn’t one enough?”
Several of the officers glanced up at the horns on Suzune’s head, but she ignored them. “Even the more bestial youkai have a certain measure of cunning, Lieutenant Nakamura. And losing to one of them would cost you more than just your dignity.”
Nakamura’s face turned scarlet, but he held his tongue. The general turned his focus back to Takamoto. “Is there anything else you can tell us about this oni? What powers did she exhibit?”
Takamoto paused. “She seemed to prefer to disarm and nullify opponents rather than kill them. In addition to her swordplay, she also has great strength and durability.” He drew his sword - what was left of it - and presented it to the general. “She caught and crushed my blade with one hand. In addition, I believe she has some kind of hidden power that allows her to transform.”
As he spoke, Suzune had to focus to keep the smile off her face. This swordswoman promised to be a worthy foe. But if Suzune let her battle lust show, that would only vindicate the men who looked down on her as “the shogun’s pet oni”. Worse, it would dishonor her father.
The general stroked his beard. “Was the village aiding or sheltering this oni swordswoman?”
“Both the village elder and the girl herself denied it. However, I cannot think of any other reason for an oni to defend this village so vehemently.”
The general nodded to himself. “Is there anything else you wish to report?”
The captain hesitated, then said, “I found the oni’s last words intriguing. She pointed out the fear the villagers had of us, more than they even feared her, and accused us of being the true monsters.”
Suzune blinked in surprise. Before she could process her thoughts, though, Captain Ito, the oldest of the officers, glowered at her and declared, “Monsters? Indeed! Like the monster we have let into our ranks!”
“With all due respect,” Captain Takamoto cut in, “they had no way of knowing about Lieutenant Suzune. She referred to the soldiers of our army; ‘rapists and thieves’, she called them.”
An uproar broke out as everyone shouted at once, but everyone stilled as soon as the general stood up. “It is clear to me that these villagers have something to hide,” he declared. “They fear us because they fear what we might discover. To aid an oni, one of our enemies, is an act of treason against the shogunate, and we will answer in kind!”
A roar of approval filled the tent, and whatever flutter of doubt Suzune may have had flittered away.
The general turned to her and asked, “How do you propose we deal with this threat, Lieutenant Suzune?”
Suzune stepped toward the battle map, but before she could speak, Nakamura saluted the general and asked, “General, why trust this… oni girl with tactical decisions? Surely there are more qualified individuals present!” Several of the others, including Ito, nodded along.
The general nodded to her, and Suzune turned to Nakamura. “Perhaps if you proved more adept than I at strategic thinking, Lieutenant Nakamura, he would ask you. Unless you are requesting a rematch of our shogi game? Perhaps your skills have improved since last time.”
Once more, Nakamura could say nothing. Suzune looked at each of the officers, but none would meet her gaze.
She turned back to the map. “If what Captain Takamoto said about the oni swordswoman is true, then she is the most dangerous threat. I propose we send a small force to lure her back into the woods here.” She pointed to a copse of trees located about a mile down the road from the village. “Then our main force can attack the village from this direction. In the event the oni proves even more dangerous than expected, or if the village has other defenses lying in wait, we should still be positioned to bring our full army to bear on the issue.”
She then laid specific plans for how to confront the oni, potential traps that could be lying in wait for them, and general terrain conditions. The war council agreed to her plan, and she was assigned to the force confronting the oni.
And since that meant she could fight this oni swordswoman, well, who was she to complain?
Current Draft of Hanako’s story (including unposted content)
13 October 2022
Confused, Aislin asked the high priestess, “Is this truly the temple of the Eternal Rose?”
“But of course!” the high priestess replied. “Do you not see the grandeur that surrounds you? To whom else would this temple belong?”
Aislin took another look around the temple. “Certainly, it looks very costly. But what about all this is beautiful?”
In my first post with Aislin, I had skipped over the effect she’d had on the worshippers of the Eternal Rose (goddess of beauty in my D&D setting). that sort of didn’t sit right with me, so I decided to go back and visit it more in-depth. I’ve been pretty fluid with how I handle this story so far, actually; mostly it’s almost a thought exercise on the meaning of beauty and how that interacts with other portions of our lives.
Again, this was inspired by this picture by Sandara on DeviantArt.
Within a week or two, Aislin bid farewell to her friends and family to offer her services and thanks to the Eternal Rose. After all, the butterfly was one of the Rose’s sacred creatures, and who else could have brought beauty back into her life if not the goddess of beauty herself?
However, what Aislin found at the Rose’s temple was not the gentle beauty that had healed her. Rather, it was a garish, opulent thing, demanding the attention of all passers-by. And when Aislin entered, she discovered the priests and priestesses were the same; perfumed peacocks parading about with powdered faces.
Confused, Aislin asked the high priestess, “Is this truly the temple of the Eternal Rose?”
“But of course!” the high priestess replied. “Do you not see the grandeur that surrounds you? To whom else would this temple belong?”
Aislin took another look around the temple. “Certainly, it looks very costly. But what about all this is beautiful?”
Her words echoed throughout the great hall, and for a moment everyone was stunned silent. Then all the priests and priestesses started shouting at once, drowning Aislin in a cavalcade of noise.
In time, the high priestess managed to halt the flood of tirades and asked, “Why have you come here, child?”
“Well,” Aislin said, “originally I’d come to ask about serving the Rose.”
“And what led you to wish to serve the Rose?”
12 October 2022
Suzune stood among the other officers along the tent wall. It was dark outside; when Captain Takamoto’s squad had arrived with half their members, without the supplies, the general had ordered an emergency staff meeting.
“And this lone oni girl forced your entire squadron to retreat, Captain?”
“Yes, General. But she fought like no other oni we’ve ever encountered. She was no enraged beast, but a blade in the wind. Please do not underestimate her.”
When she heard that, Suzune’s blood began to boil, and she barely kept herself from grinning. Here, at last, was a worthy foe. Perhaps, if she performed well here, the other officers would look past her horns and cobalt blue skin, and she’d stop hearing whispers of “the shogun’s pet oni”.
And here is the second of three versions of this scene, where I introduce Suzune. In the last one, I made her too old; she’s supposed to be Hanako’s age, but I made her the general over a major part of the army. This time, it feels like I went to far the other direction; she’s lacking in confidence, and as a result she’s too focused on what everyone around her thinks of her. That didn’t quite fit my image of who I wanted the character to be. It’s also vague and nebulous, with too much “telling” (especially about the way others treat her) and not enough “showing”.
That’s actually why I’m really glad I wrote this; seeing the ways I was dissatisfied helped me get a firmer grasp on Suzune’s character, and I think was key in helping me grow as a writer, too.
Suzune stood among the other officers along the tent wall. It was dark outside; when Captain Takamoto’s squad had arrived with half their members, without the supplies, the general had ordered an emergency staff meeting.
“And this lone oni girl forced your entire squadron to retreat, Captain?”
“Yes, General. But she fought like no other oni we’ve ever encountered. She was no enraged beast, but a blade in the wind. Please do not underestimate her.”
When she heard that, Suzune’s blood began to boil, and she barely kept herself from grinning. Here, at last, was a worthy foe. Perhaps, if she performed well here, the other officers would look past her horns and cobalt blue skin, and she’d stop hearing whispers of “the shogun’s pet oni”.
The general watched Captain Takamoto for several moments. “And was the town aiding this oni swordswoman?”
“Both the village elder and the girl denied it, but I can think of no other reason she would defend it so earnestly.”
The general nodded to himself and rose. He looked around at each of the officers present and declared, “Sheltering a youkai is treason against the shogunate. All enemies of the shogun will perish! At dawn, move out; we shall bring the full might of this battalion to bear against these traitors.”
Recognizing an opportunity, Suzune stepped forward and knelt down. She placed her fist over her heart in salute. “Permission to speak, sir!”
Several of the other officers began to snicker amongst themselves, but the general waved a hand to silence them. “You may speak, Lieutenant Suzune.”
Suzune rose. “Sir, based on Captain Takamoto’s report, I propose we split our forces. This oni swordswoman seems to be the most serious threat; one force could draw her out and neutralize her, while the other attacks the town.”
The general stroked his beard. “Do you believe this swordswoman to be that significant a threat?”
Though Suzune would never admit it, she sincerely hoped so. “I do not know, but I trust in Captain Takamoto’s integrity and the skill of his squad. And I believe it is often better to exercise caution in front of an unfamiliar and dangerous opponent.”
The general nodded. “Please continue.”
Suzune bowed, hiding the smile that crept over her face. Then she spent the next thirty minutes using the battle map to explain the finer details of her plan.
Current Draft of Hanako’s story (including unposted content)
11 October 2022
General Suzune, head of the Dragon’s Battalion and the adoptive daughter of the shogun, looked down at Captain Takamoto, who bowed before her. “And a single oni forced your entire squadron to retreat?”
“Yes, General. But she fights like no other oni we’ve encountered; rather than an enraged beast, she was a master swordswoman. Please do not underestimate her, despite our weakness.”
“I see.” She resisted the urge to smile; perhaps here, finally, she’d find a worthy foe.
We finally meet the other half of the “blue oni, red oni” duo. That said, Suzune at this point hadn’t quite finished baking if you will. I knew she existed, but not details. In particular, here, I forgot how old she was supposed to be, and focused on how much epic potential she had. That… would have caused a lot of problems. I also play with how redeemable the captain was going to be; unfortunately, perhaps as a side effect of making Suzune more sympathetic, he winds up a lot less sympathetic in the final version.
As a result, I actually rewrote this scene two other times, on the 12th and 14th. Just trying things out, figuring out what fit, and using this scene to try to learn who Suzune really was. I’m fairly satisfied with the result, though.
General Suzune, head of the Dragon’s Battalion and the adoptive daughter of the shogun, looked down at Captain Takamoto, who bowed before her. “And a single oni forced your entire squadron to retreat?”
“Yes, General. But she fights like no other oni we’ve encountered; rather than an enraged beast, she was a master swordswoman. Please do not underestimate her, despite our weakness.”
“I see.” She resisted the urge to smile; perhaps here, finally, she’d find a worthy foe. She stood, and all eyes turned toward her. Her cobalt blue skin naturally drew attention, and her six foot frame only increased the impact of her presence, along with the black horns on either side of her forehead.
“And the town was allied with this oni swordswoman?” she confirmed.
“Both the village elder and the girl herself denied it, but I can think of no other reason for her to exert so much effort in its defense,” the captain replied.
Suzune nodded and looked to the other officers in the room. Many dropped their eyes, but a few worthy of respect met her gaze. She declared, “To ally with the enemy is to declare one’s self to be an enemy of the shogun. Is that agreed?”
Not a one of the officers dared do anything but nod. Suzune continued, “And therefore, as an enemy, it is our duty to make an example of them.” She pointed to the map. “The greatest threat is this oni swordswoman. So to draw her out, we will send our main force directly here, through the forest.” She gestured to Takamoto. “Meanwhile, you and your squadron, along with fifty other men of my choosing, will come in from here and attack the village. I hope you take this chance to redeem yourselves.”
The officers saluted, thumping their chest with their fists, and slowly filed out. Once they had, though, Captain Takamoto remained.
Suzune raised an eyebrow. “Was there something else, Captain?”
He hesitated, then said, “I suppose I just wondered what makes us different from the youkai.”
Current Draft of Hanako’s story (including unposted content)
10 October 2022
I turned my attention back to the dioramas, and found one that seemed to represent her argument with the guard earlier. While both were jointed like artists’s mannequins, it was curious that only the guard had a proper face, while Elsenaia’s did not. Instead, she wore an elaborate silver diadem I hadn’t seen in real life. On top of that, she was held in place by puppet strings leading to the ceiling, although the guard had none.
After what I learned about Elsenaia and her past in the previous posts, it didn't make sense for some memories and ideas to be as accessible as they were, at least to me. I started trying to figure out what her life meant for the way her mental palace appeared and functioned, and rewrote the first introduction to the mental world here.
It's kind of fun, trying to put physical descriptions to such abstract ideas.
When I opened my eyes, to my surprise I was in a long, palatial hallway, perhaps thirty feet wide and fifteen feet tall, with innumerable mirrors spaced out along its walls. Here and there between them hung both gorgeous wall-to-ceiling paintings and life sized dioramas made with marionettes.
Meanwhile, I could sense Elsenaia trying to sift through my brain. She felt lost, and her frustration emanated out of the mirrors around me. Before I poked around the hallway, I asked, “Need help finding anything?”
“That will not be necessary.” The embarrassment I felt from the mirrors undercut the dignity she tried to project, but since I started remembering things, from old friends to travel locations, I figured she was getting the hang of it.
I turned my attention back to the dioramas, and found one that seemed to represent her argument with the guard earlier. While both were jointed like artists’s mannequins, it was curious that only the guard had a proper face, while Elsenaia’s did not. Instead, she wore an elaborate silver diadem I hadn’t seen in real life. On top of that, she was held in place by puppet strings leading to the ceiling, although the guard had none.
Out of curiosity, I touched the figure of the guard, and voices echoed around me. Somehow, I was able to understand everything perfectly, despite the fact the conversation was in Elvish. Direct brain-to-brain communication?
“You cannot mean to bond with this human?” the angry guard, labeled “Darrett”, demanded.
Waves of indignation pulsed out from the princess mannequin, indignation that hadn’t been visible in real life. I heard Elsenaia’s voice, where she sighed and replied, “Of course not. This is an interrogation not–”
“Huh,” I said to myself, and walked away. Some of the dioramas featured Tairsi or Darrett; others placed her on a throne before some ordinary citizens; and others what I assumed to be her family. In addition to her father and mother, she had one older brother and a pair of older twin sisters.
A painting on the wall gave a better depiction of them, at least at first. When I found it, it seemed for all the world like a normal royal family portrait. And yet, as I moved and the angle changed, the painting shifted. The king’s eyes grew darker, and his crown taller. The queen’s mouth disappeared, and she had a collar around her neck with a chain leading to the king’s hands. Elsenaia herself was once again faceless, while her brother now had an almost bestial snarl warping his face. One hand was held behind his back with the tip of a knife barely visible. Only her sisters looked relatively unchanged.
Intrigued, I walked down to the next portrait, which was much more straightforward. Tairsi, as a knight, kneeled before the faceless princess in all her glory on a throne. At Tairsi’s back, though, hidden in shadows, a young elven girl I guessed to be a younger Elsenaia reached out for her.
I stepped closer. Below the painting, a nameplate read “Loyal Knight”. I traced my finger along it, and a voice of a young girl came out of the painting. “I guess princesses aren’t allowed to have friends.”
As soon as the voice finished, though, mirrored walls slammed down around me like prison walls. I felt Elsenaia’s fear spike, and her voice boomed through the room I was now in. “Wha… You’re not… How are you in my head!?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. You’re the one who did the magicy bits. I didn’t even think magic was real an hour ago.”
I could sense Elsenaia’s disbelief change into shock as my memories verified what I said. I asked, “So, what do you know of that could cause this?”
She just shook her head. She seemed to be at a total loss, so I decided to poke around to find out if there was anything about the spell that might help.
9 October 2022
When Aislin (pronounced Ashlynn) lost Matthias, her husband of only two months, she also lost herself. Family and friends offered their condolences; the priests of Father Death offered her what solace they could. Aislin even appreciated it; there was no guarantee she would have made it the next few months without their support.
But nothing really broke through that grayness she felt. Everything seemed meaningless. Rote. Empty. There was a hole where her heart had been, and nothing could help it heal.
I am a fairly religious person, and as part of that, I try to follow the law of the Sabbath, in that we don’t work on Sunday if we can avoid it, and try to make sure nothing we do forces other people to work, either. I’ve been trying to figure out how to apply that to writing and I’ve decided I will generally write for a shorter block of time on Sunday, and rather than the action-packed fantasy stories I favor, I will try to focus on something with a more spiritual bent. Not religious, necessarily, but spiritual.
One of the stories in the back of my head I’d been trying to figure out was this concept of a butterfly knight, inspired by this picture by Sandara on DeviantArt (found via YouTube, actually). Butterflies can represent a lot of things, including the cycle of life and death, as well as beauty. So I concluded this butterfly knight might have ties to the idea of “beauty from ashes”, which is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. And thus Aislin was born.
When Aislin (pronounced Ashlynn) lost Matthias, her husband of only two months, she also lost herself. Family and friends offered their condolences; the priests of Father Death offered her what solace they could. Aislin even appreciated it; there was no guarantee she would have made it the next few months without their support.
But nothing really broke through that grayness she felt. Everything seemed meaningless. Rote. Empty. There was a hole where her heart had been, and nothing could help it heal.
One morning in spring, she visited Matthias’ grave, as she often did. This time, however, she felt a presence in the gentle breeze flowing at her back. She turned, and her eyes caught hold of a single, brilliant blue butterfly, floating along as if it hadn’t a care in the world.
Even Aislin couldn’t ever say why that butterfly was so profound to her. But something about the beauty of that moment made her heart overflow, and she laughed aloud for the first time in months. Her grief didn’t disappear, her sorrow for her lost husband hadn’t gone away, but now it was tempered with hope, with a surety even, that things would get better and beauty could rise from the ashes.
At the next opportunity, she traveled into town to thank the Eternal Rose for her gift. For if anyone could bring beauty back into her life after so long in the dark, wouldn’t it be the goddess of beauty herself?
However, what Aislin found at the Rose’s temple was not the gentle beauty that had healed her. Rather, it was a garish, opulent thing that demanded the attention of all who passed by. Many of the priests and priestesses were no different; they dressed in loud colors and hid their faces beneath powders and paints.
Aislin cringed, and her heart ached. To herself, she wondered, “What about this is beautiful?”
For better or worse, her comment was heard by several of the clergy, and a furious debate spread among all the churches of the Eternal Rose. The schism ran the risk of causing more than one war.
Still, that was of little concern to Aislin at the time. She returned home, disappointed, but still determined to move forward. When Old Harper’s crops failed, she shared her food with his family, and invited them to appreciate what they had more abundantly. When little Dory broke her leg, Aislin helped her get around, and when it healed, they rejoiced together at the wonder of being able to walk.
Aislin might have continued like that the rest of her life, quietly promoting peace and quiet in her community, had her town not been raided by a band of brigands. Despite her own lack of skill, she grabbed Matthias’ sword and rushed to defend her home.
The leader of the band was a large man. He easily struck down several of the town militia…
8 October 2022
When he charged her, Hanako let her fury out. Her hair turned white; her skin, crimson, her eyes, black. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. She caught his blade in her bare hand and crushed it at the hilt.
The captain looked into her black eyes, and for once Hanako truly glared at him. His face turned sheet white. “You monster!”
“Maybe.” Hanako sighed and breathed in, letting her anger fade and her color return to normal. “But if I’m the monster, why are you the one they’re afraid of?”
Writing this felt good. It felt like I’d wrapped up the major story beat, ended the scene that started with the innkeeper, or even earlier with my first draft of it.
The choreography was fun to figure out. I used graph paper and drew up a map of the square, including the three carriages, to help plan out how the fight went. I actually hadn’t considered the way Hanako used the chaos the horses caused to her advantage until I drew that out. It helped me recognize what was available in her environment. I modified D&D rules for action economy and movement speed to give myself an idea of what happens, which I think works well enough for something like this. I don’t worry about attack or damage, though; whether an attack hits or misses and what kind of damage results from that is based on the needs of the plot, so I skip over that.
One of the things I’ve come to learn recently is that one principle to writing good action sequences comes down to knowing what options are available to each “actor” in a scene at any given time, and based on that figuring out what they would do given the situation. I say “actor” because some things might change or affect the battle despite being intangible (earthquakes, falling debris, dynamic environmental hazards, etc.).
As Hanako approached the square, she counted maybe half a dozen of the shogun’s soldiers loading their spoils onto wagons. Across the square, their captain spoke with the village elder; the elder’s face was sour, but from the smug look on the captain’s face, there wasn’t anything he could do.
As she got closer, she noticed several women bunched together in the back of the third wagon. Her rage flared, demanding to let loose, and if it hadn’t been for her master’s training, she would have descended on the soldiers in a storm of steel.
Instead, she dashed forward, knocking out the first guard with her sheathed katana before anyone could react. She unsheathed it just long enough to cut the horses free of the nearest wagon. On top of that, she released a pulse of anger strong enough to spook all the horses, even at the other wagons.
Once the captain saw her, his eyes narrowed. He turned on the village elder and drew his sword. “So you’re working with them.”
The elder desperately shook his head. “No! We would never!”
Once she saw this, Hanako growled and rushed for the captain. As she rushed past, one soldier made a swing at her, but she deflected with her sheathe and dove in front of the old man.
The captain swung his sword, and a loud pa-ching echoed through the square. A moment later, the captain’s sword clattered to the ground a few feet away.
Hanako smiled fearlessly up at the captain. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve got nothing to do with these folks; I was just passing through.”
Two of the other soldiers charged at her while the rest fought to get the horses under control. She tilted her head to avoid the first one’s thrust, while the second tried to sweep at her from below. She stomped on the sword and shattered it, but they’d given the captain time to retreat and pick up his own weapon.
The captain shouted, “Leave the horses! Focus on the oni girl!”
The other three tried to follow his command. However, one had gotten too close to the back of the rear wagon, and one of the woman grabbed a pan from among the stolen loot and swung it at his head. It bashed into his helmet and sent him reeling, while the clang spooked the horses even worse. The horses at their wagon tore free, bowling two other soldiers over, and followed the horses Hanako had cut loose out of the square.
In the meantime, Hanako had resheathed her sword and easily disarmed her other opponent. She knocked him out, along with the soldier whose sword she’d smashed earlier, which left her alone with the captain for the moment.
The captain looked at her sheathed katana and fumed. “Why do you not draw your weapon?”
Hanako shrugged. “I don’t think I need it.” She was trying not to kill people, after all. At least for now.
Given the way the captain’s glare intensified, though, he probably didn’t take it that way. That was fine. If Hanako was honest with herself, she was still pretty furious, too.
When he charged her, Hanako let some of that fury out, as she thought about the women who would be kidnapped and the things she’d seen in other towns. Her hair turned white; her skin, crimson, her eyes, black. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.
If she had wanted to, it would have been the easiest thing in the world for Hanako to kill this guy. Smash his face hin, draw her sword and cut him to ribbons, grab him and launch him a hundred feet into the air. She almost did it, too. But she stopped herself in time, and instead she just caught his blade in her bare hand and crushed it at the hilt.
The captain looked into her black eyes, and for once Hanako truly glared at him. His face turned sheet white. “You monster!”
“Maybe.” Hanako sighed and breathed in, letting her anger fade and her color return to normal. “But if I’m the monster, why are you the one they’re afraid of?”
The captain looked around, noticing the eyes of the villages peeking out from doorways or windows. His eyes finally rested on the women who were to be taken away, all of whom glared at him, not the oni beside him.
He turned toward Hanako. She looked at something, off in the distance, with a sad smile. Softly, she told him, “If you’re serious about trying to protect people from monsters, captain, maybe start with the ones in your own army?”
Without anything he could say, he signaled his men and they left, taking their wounded with them and leaving the wagons.
Hanako only got a few minutes rest, seated on the ground against the wall, when the village elder marched up to her. “Do you know what you have done!?”
She hadn’t been expecting that. Her rage flared, but Hanako was able to keep a lid on it. Still, she was worried how this was going to go.
When she didn’t say anything, the elder sucked in breath to continue; however, one of the women from the wagon stepped between them. “She saved us if nothing else, Benjiro. Which is more than I can say for you.”
“And in the process, she’s doomed us all! Do you think the shogun and his men will just let this stand? On top of that, now they think we’ve allied with the youkai!”
“So, what? Just give everything up, sacrifice us, just to keep the peace?”
“If that’s what it takes to save the village!”
The women was prepared to keep arguing, but Hanako reached up and grabbed her hand. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Hanako softly asked, “Say, oji-san. Have you visited Wakayama recently?”
Confusion painted over the old man’s features. “No, not recently. Why?”
“What about Gifu? Makuhari?”
The elder shook his head.
“I have. They did just what you said; gave the army whatever they wanted, and did their best to keep their heads down.” She finally looked up at him. “In Gifu they’re boiling leather for food. Anything the army hadn’t taken, they’d trampled on the way out. Wakayama didn’t even have that much; there were children starving to death in the streets when I passed by.” She turned and gave the elder a weary smile. “Say, oji-san. When you said you want to save the village, is that what you had in mind?”
The old man was silent.
Hanako heaved herself off the ground and forced a bright smile on her face. “It’ll be alright, though! I’ll do everything I can to keep you all safe.” She scratched her cheek and added, “I mean, you have a point. I did attack them, and rope you guys into this mess. So, I’ll help out with that.”
And with that, she headed back deeper into town, leaving the elder and everyone else to mull over what she’d said.
Current Draft of Hanako’s story (including unposted content)
7 October 2022
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.
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.
Current Draft of Hanako’s story (including unposted content)