FeatherWriter

I just started playing Assassin's Creed: Revelations. I don't know why it took me so long to play this game. I love Assassin's Creed, and I'm definitely excited for AC3. I do have the worst problem with getting distracted by sidequests. I've only gotten through the first Altaïr mission, and I've been playing for almost 24 hours. Oops. Jumping off those viewpoints and killing templar captains is just so fun! I totally suck at the tower defense thing though. The templars almost always take my dens back...

WoK is an awesome re-read. I'm still in the midst of reading it aloud to my sister and it sucks me back in with each chapter I read. We just got through the chapters where Kaladin gives up something very important and Shallan eats some bread that doesn't quite agree with her. I'm really hoping I can finish reading it to her before I head off to college in August...

Sorry, double post. But no one's responded and this is worth it, okay? So I just watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. Dear lord. Joss Whedon needs to stop being awesome. I cannot handle it. I bought the whole soundtrack and can't stop listening. It's so catchy! I'd definitely recommend it to everyone. 45 minutes of pure awesome. Here: have the video! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVBjS22ppdw

I have an Avengers problem. It's seriously all I can think about. I've seen the movie four times now and it has taken over. Joss Whedon is amazing. Though, the first time I went to go see it, I hadn't seen any of the other movies before hand (Bad fan, I know. It's been rectified now!). At one point in the movie I leaned over to my friend and asked "Why is Tony Stark's shirt glowing?" She gave me the flattest look like "Get out of this theater right now." I felt like a dork. I thought he just made all of his shirts glow because he was Iron Man! Oops. Anyway. Sorry to resurrect a kinda dead thread. But seriously. THE AVENGERS. Okay, back to writing Loki fanfics.

I don't know. It's always hard to get a feel for a world just from reading a write-up. They're really helpful for writers, but don't do much for an audience. The story is really where you get into the world. If anything feels strange or doesn't quite make sense after the story though, I'll let you know!

Ooh! You're right! I totally missed that "announcer" "announce" is a noun/verb switch. Yep, level 3's are canon!

Reader: I just saw your edit, so I'll answer. Yep, the Jaiseti are pretty much smack dab on the equator. I believe the true equator of the planet is somewhere around 50 miles from the canyons. Crazy Rioter: I'm glad you found it interesting! (I had to stop myself. I nearly started apologizing for apologizing.) It still seems bewildering to me that other people find my writing as interesting as I do. But that's a writer's temperament is it not? So, thank you!

Ooh. Very interesting! I'm excited to read the story! Though, I feel I have to point out, this civ probably wouldn't have been allowed in the original SovStates tournament. They were super strict about a no-magic rule. They wanted more evolutionary adaptations for Civs. Heck, I had to come up with some major sciency-sounding jargon in order to get a pass for the Jaiseti's sun dependence. The initial consensus was "No." But seeing as SovStates isn't actually happening, and this is all just for fun, it doesn't really matter. It's just something that crossed my mind while I was reading.

Okay, keep at it!

I've seen a really cool theory going around that Iroh's parents are Zuko's daughter (obvious) and one of Aang's other sons, Bumi. Bumi and Zuko's daughter (fandom name is Honora ATM I believe) are about the same age, and the officially released picture of Bumi, (found here along with a picture of Kya, Aang and Katara's daughter) he's wearing the Fire Nation royalty collar. It's identical to Iroh's and very similar to the one's worn by Zuko and Azula in the original run. Since he's a non-bender, the only way he'd become part of the royal family is through marriage! Someone also pointed out that Iroh and Bumi have the same eyebrows, so that's interesting. If that's true, that means Iroh is Tenzin's nephew! Wouldn't that be a cool reunion?

Like could you post it on another site, like Deviant Art, Google Docs or something, and provide a link to it? Instead of a direct upload here. Sorry, didn't mean to confuse!

Hmm. Hyde, your link isn't working. It won't let me see! And I was totally ready to follow you for awesome designs and Avengers! My tumblr is featherwriter.tumblr.com (Original, I know!) It's a content blog right now, which means I really only post my own stuff. Character analysis for the mostly. I'm 19 posts in to a 20 post Loki Laufeyson analysis. Fangirl alert! I've been thinking about getting a separate reblog blog. I probably will soon. In that case it will be lots of Korra, Hiddles/Loki, Avengers, Homestuck, and the scarce occasional Branderson post. Yes, I said Branderson. Let's just get the redundant letters out of the way. Deal with it. Also, Loki and the Avengers are separate things. Completely. /protip: there's more Loki. EDIT: Personal blog is online! Find it here: feather-writer.tumblr.com (really original name, I know!)

How do you get on AO3? I've been trying, but there's some kind of reference system, right? How'd you do it?

I don't know if anyone even really cares anymore, but Reader asked me what happens to the Jaiseti at night, and I figured I might as well share my answer here: (Copy-pasted from the conversation) They sleep! Not having sunlight is one of the main reasons the Jaiseti feel tired, so they go to bed. Since the body uses a lot less energy while asleep, they don't really need the light. Most of the Jaiseti sleep in until the sun has been up for a few hours so they've got some energy for the day. Some have to get up before the sunrise, and it's a grueling experience. Once the sun comes up, they start to feel better though. A Jais who tried to stay up all night would find themselves getting more and more tired until the sun rose again. Most wouldn't make it to midnight, but the truly determined could stick it out until morning. By sunrise they'd be exhausted but it'd be doable, and when the sun rose, it'd probably feel a bit like drinking a triple shot latte. There are a few Jais who sleep during the day and are awake at night - guards who have night shifts, some innkeepers and barkeeps. They usually sleep somewhere that has full sunlight during the day, like a rooftop or something. When they wake up for the night, they've got tons of strength and energy. It's been stored up and they haven't used any of it. At the beginning of the night, a nocturnal Jais is about as strong as it's possible to be! As the night goes on, they'll feel weaker and sleepier. By the time morning comes they're at their weakest and ready to fall back into bed and sleep again. This is one of the reasons the Jaiseti try to keep their sun-dependence secret from other cultures. They're at their most vulnerable in the early hours of the morning and whenever the weather is overcast for a significant amount of time. A nocturnal Jais would have a very different waking experience than a diurnal Jais, that's for sure! But it's possible. Switching to a nocturnal cycle is harder for the Jaiseti than for a normal human. They tend to have pretty regular sleep cycles. Switching up your schedule tends to be a fairly permanent change. There wouldn't be nearly as many all-nighters for a Jaiseti college student! If someone were to try to switch over to being nocturnal, the first night where they're up all night would be quite the ordeal. It's best to have an already-nocturnal friend to stay with you and keep you from falling asleep as you wait it out. Wow. You probably didn't expect a novel for such a simple question, but I wrote it anyway. Oh well. It's something I've thought about quite a bit! I hope that answers your question!

Hmm. I'm not sure... I've never tried to do an attachment. Could you host off-site and link? I really want to read it! Also, we should totally have a SovStates Forum. That'd be awesome.

I've read the first couple books of the Temeraire series actually! His Majesty's Dragon is the first book in that series. They're pretty good. I really need to pick up the rest! There's not much French in it actually though, since the main characters are all English!

I picked up a couple of books from the library that are interesting. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak is one. I'm not very far into it, but it's exceptional thus far. Death is an amazing narrator to say the least. The other one was The Red Necklace by Sally Gardner. I found out about this book - through ways that will become apparent as this post continues - and decided to check out the synopsis. Historical fiction set in the French Revolution? I don't care if it's YA, I'm interested. I'm such a French fangirl and the French Revolution is an amazing period to read about. In fact, the only time I've ever tried writing historical fiction, it was a French Revolution fic. (Assassin's Creed fanfic for NaNoWriMo actually... I'm lame, I know.) So I keep reading. The main character's got mind-reading powers? Okay, so this isn't just the French Revolution. This is French Revolution with a light fantasy twist. Count me in! On top of that, the audiobook is narrated by Tom Hiddleston. As in that-guy-who-plays-Loki, his-amazing-voice-could-melt-butter, I've-been-fangirling-for-like-three-weeks-over Tom Hiddleston. Yes, yes. That's how I found this book. I was in the Hiddles tag on tumblr. I have like six hours of Tom Hiddleston talking and pronouncing beautiful French words magnificently. I'm not even sorry. And then, I queue up the first track anD THE INTRO MUSIC IS DANSE MACABRE BY CAMILLE SAINT-SAENS! Which is of course, pretty much my favorite piece of classical music ever. I've studied the composition, history, and music theory of this piece so in depth it's not even funny. I've written essays over this piece. I taught classes over this piece. And now it's on this book and TOM HIDDLESTON IS TALKING OVER IT. Let's just say I died and went to fangirl heaven. I've only read a few chapters of that one as well, and it's okay so far. I really hope this book doesn't suck. It has too many of my favorite things to suck. I think I'll cry. (And then go finish reading The Book Thief)

This isn't all of it, but it's the part I'm most comfortable with. So, this is a couple hundred years in the future. Jaiset is a country now with multiple towns and cities, the canyon city of Jaiset being the capital and now a large urban center. I'd place the time period at something like the Classical Roman age for a good real-world equivalent. Chapter 1 It was an awfully long way to go for a bottle of perfume. The herbalist’s shop was near the outskirts of the canyon city of Jaiset, just about as far away from the central palace as could be. But Lyla Serah was the princess’s servant, and when Her High Light Amela Temar wanted something, she usually got it. It’s not really the cleanest part of the city either, Lyla thought with distaste. The steep cliff walls of the canyons rose behind the buildings of the narrow, winding street. The canyons of the Inner City had been widened to let in more sunlight, but out here at the edges streets were so narrow they were shadowed nearly all day. The buildings here were poor, many in disrepair, and a layer of reddish dust covered everything. Above, she could barely see the buildings of the Upper City, built on the flattened tops of spires and cliffs. The Upper City buildings were usually much nicer than Lower City buildings, and the farther one went from the Inner City, the more pronounced the difference became. Every so often she would pass under a small bridge connecting the high plateaus. After a few more minutes of walking she found the shop. The herbalist had been highly recommended by one of the women of the court for his perfumes. Princess Amela liked to change scents every so often, usually around events. Lyla checked the picture on the sign with the sketch she’d been given, then pushed the door open and walked in. The shelves were lined with all shapes and sizes of glass bottles, powders sat in jars and pots, and dried plants hung from the ceiling. There was a musky, spicy smell, not unpleasant though, which hung heavily in the air. As Lyla walked in, an old man behind the counter stood up. “How may I help you, Jaisa?” The merchant asked politely. Then he noticed her fine clothes. “Or Li-Jaisa perhaps?” he amended, using the title for nobility instead. “Actually, it would be Su-Jaisa.” She corrected him with the servant’s address, holding out her arms. “I’m a handmaid of Li-Jaisa Temar.” Around each forearm she wore a silver bracer set with a large oval of polished blue glass and smaller circles of colored glass around it in a design. Around the stones it was engraved with the seal of the royal family and other markings which marked her as their property. The glass was shaped to catch the sunlight and focus it onto the skin beneath. The lens cuffs, as they were called, were common among the Jaiseti in the city, though few were as expensive or well made as hers. He took her wrist, turning it and inspecting the seal. “My apologies, Su-Jaisa. Would this be a personal visit or an official errand?” “Official, actually. I’m shopping for the princess today.” Lyla said. “We have a party of dignitaries coming from Nuem for trade negotiations, and Li-Jaisa Temar is looking for new perfume for the occasion.” “Ah, yes.” He said, nodding. “Everyone in the city has been talking about the Nuem coming. I am honored that the princess sent you to my shop. I’ll get my best bottles then.” He went to the back of the shop, unlocked a small chest, and took out a couple of bottles. He set them on the counter in front of her. “Only the best stock for the princess, of course.” He said with a smile. He picked up a wide and flat orange colored bottle. “This is a very exotic scent, very rare. It’s made from the extracts of the citrus fruits from across the mountains, brought in by caravans. The princess would certainly be unique with this perfume.” He moved to a small pink bottle with a cork carved in the shape of a flower. “This is my highest quality perfume, honey water and desert rose. It’s a more traditional scent, but far more luxurious than anything you’ll find in anywhere else.” Lyla took each of the bottles, wafting their each of their scents toward her. The rose was very nice, but too common. The princess’s rooms were usually filled with desert roses in vases of water, and the smell could be cloying at times. Lyla put that bottle down and held up the orange one. “Oh yes, that’s very nice. How much for this one?” “Normally that bottle is fifteen clear-gold lenses, but for the princess I can drop it to ten.” The merchant smiled as though he’d just done her a great favor, but Lyla’s eyebrows rose at the price. Clear-gold lenses were the highest denomination of coin in the city, each worth nearly two months’ wages for a common man. Like all lens coins they consisted of a flat metal ring with glass at the center. Both the metal band and color of the glass determined the value, bronze and green glass were lowest and gold and clear glass were most valuable. The combinations of glasses and metals allowed for an intricate yet exact currency. Always astounded at the extravagance of the royal family, Lyla counted out the lenses from her coin purse. They were the Li-Jaisa Amela’s, of course. Despite her fine clothes, Lyla was the property of the Daiem, technically a slave, albeit an extremely well-pampered one. She wasn’t allowed possessions or money; everything she owned was a gift from the Li-Jaisa. As one of the princess’s personal servants, however, she was allowed to handle money on the princess’s behalf. The merchant took her lenses with a covetous gleam in his eye. He held one up to the light to check its authenticity, but then froze nervously. “Sorry,” He said, quickly putting the lens back down. “It’s not that I doubt the Li-Jaisa’s money, of course. I wasn’t thinking. It’s just an old habit from dealing in this neighborhood.” Lyla nodded sympathetically. “It’s all right. I understand. The outskirts are a bit rougher around the edges.” He smiled gratefully. He took the bottle and wrapped it in a thin colored sheet of paper before putting it in a small box. His long fingers were deft and nimble, tying a ribbon around the package in a neat bow. He held it out to her when he finished. “There you are, Su-Jaisa. I hope the princess finds it satisfactory.” “I’m sure it will be perfect. Thank you, Jaisem. Good day.” She tucked the small box into her satchel carefully and left. Outside, the sun had risen higher and a small sliver of light touched the narrow street. Lyla moved over to walk along it. After only moments, she felt better. Other cultures assumed that the Jaiseti simply enjoyed the sunlight because it was a connection to Elumis, their sun god. But the nation of Jaiset had a secret. They needed sunlight to live. It was like water, food, or air. Having sunlight made the Jaiseti stronger and healthier, and without it they wasted away. The desert climate meant that most days were sunny enough to provide plenty of light, but on the rare overcast days everyone in Jaiset seemed to feel sick, weak, and irritable. Lyla wondered absently to herself as she walked in her thin sunbeam if that was the reason why the people out here were rougher and meaner: their twisty canyons didn’t let them get enough light. Sure, they could walk to the sunnier sections like the Inner City or Upper City, or go spend a few hours lounging in a sunhouse, but having to spend most of their day in these shadows couldn’t be good for a person. Ahead of her, a woman rounded the corner, yelling to people behind her. “Will you lot hurry up? At this rate we won’t make it until sunset. I swear you lazy–” She was tall for a Jaisa, with a rough sort of look about her and her hair was so dark it must have been dyed. There was a gold ring in one of her ears and when she turned forward, Lyla noticed her eyes were a pale green. “Move, girl.” The woman snapped. Behind her, three men rounded the corner, supposedly whom she’d been speaking to. “I don’t have time to deal with you.” Lyla realized she’d stopped in the street. “I’m sorry, Jaisa. I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was walking.” She moved to one side of the street so the woman and her companions could pass. Speaking of sun-starved toughs… Lyla thought. It’ll be nice to be back in the Inner City, where people have some manners. One of the men suddenly grabbed her arm as she passed him. “Not a bad idea actually,” he said. “Cara might not have time to deal with you, but I know I’d like to see you move.” He was short, with greasy hair and an even greasier smile. His hand felt slimy around her arm. She tried to pull away. “Excuse me?” The leader woman, presumably Cara, stopped and turned back around, looking annoyed. “Let her go, Feris. We don’t have time for this. The guard will be on us any minute.” “Of course, you say that.” Feris replied without looking away from Lyla. “You’ve got Arin to do whatever you want. Let me have this. It’ll be like a going away present for me.” “Hey!” The taller of the other two men spoke up. “I don’t do whatever she wants! If anything, it’s the other way around!” “Oh please, Arin.” The shorter one said. He had a long scar running down one side of his face. “We know who carries the blade in your relationship.” “Shut it, both of you.” Cara barked. “Feris, I’m warning you. Drop it now.” Lyla had grasped the man’s intentions and began struggling and kicking at him. He pushed her backward, pinning her against the rocky canyon wall. With her free hand she tried to grab the small knife at her waist, but he saw and grabbed it first. It probably wouldn’t have done her much good; she’d never been trained to use it. “It’s a pretty blade you’ve got.” He said, smiling as he casually tossed it behind him, out of reach. “Are you a nobleman’s daughter or something?” Cara walked over, glaring at him. “Look at those lens cuffs, Feris. She’s a palace servant. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.” The short scarred man spoke up. “I’ve heard they pick the palace servants for their beauty.” He walked up and reached out to touch her, but she jerked away. He grinned. “Certainly seems true.” “A palace servant, huh?” Feris said, seeming intrigued. “I’d bet the prince has his pick of them each night. I wouldn’t mind having what the royal family gets to have.” “We’ve got a bounty out on our heads; don’t make it a death warrant!” Cara said. “We don’t have time for you two to dally with serving girls; we need to get out of the city!” Something flashed off to Lyla’s right and the scarred man cried out. She watched as he fell to his knees beside her, clutching his side where a wide slice was seeping bright red blood. “I would say you really don’t have time to do anything at all, Jaisa.” As the wounded man fell to the ground, Lyla could see his attacker, the speaker, standing behind him, flourishing a now-bloody sword. He was a broad-shouldered man with fine clothes, some of the richest in the city. His hair was well-groomed and, unlike the street toughs, his face was clean. To Lyla however, the fact that his face was familiar was most astonishing. She knew him, but the chaos of the situation made it difficult to remember exactly who he was. She only really saw his face for a second before Feris blocked her view. Feris released her, his hand grappling at his knife. As soon as she was free, she jumped back, horrified at the sight of the scarred man’s corpse and the slowly growing pool of blood. When she finally tore her eyes away from the graphic sight, she noticed that Cara and the other man, Arin, had vanished. They’d probably bolted while she’d been distracted. She turned her eyes back to Feris and the swordsman. Feris finally managed to unsheathe his knife and held the short blade in front of him, bent low and tensed like a cat ready to spring. His opponent, however almost seemed relaxed. He settled into an easy lunge, on his toes with his right leg before him and his left leg behind. His sword was held comfortably in his left hand while his right arm went behind his back. There was a lightness to the pose, as if he weighed nothing, yet a stability to it as well. Lyla recognized it as a duelist’s starting posture; the man was well-trained. The duelist moved first, lunging forward. Feris dodged out of the way before swiping at his opponent’s chest. The duelist parried and attacked again. After only a few attacks, it was easy to tell that Feris was losing. The other man was playing with him, giving him scratches and nicks instead of finishing strikes. After what couldn’t have been longer than a minute, the duelist grew tired of the game. As Feris jumped forward to attack again, the man dodged sideways and got behind him. In one smooth motion, he thrust his sword through the street thug and pulled it back out again. Lyla winced and turned away, wishing she hadn’t seen that. While she’d watched fights before, they’d mostly been noble duels. Nobody ever got seriously injured, and certainly no one died. The duelist’s casual attitude almost made the whole thing worse. She composed herself, turning back to the bloody scene. Feris had joined his companion, dead on the ground. The duelist bent down to smoothly wipe his blade clean on an un-bloodied swath of the fallen thug’s shirt. Now that the initial adrenaline had started to wear off, Lyla was struck again by how familiar he looked. She’d seen him before, somewhere. A young noble who had come to court to compete in one of the duels, perhaps? Then he looked up, and it clicked. Li-Jaisem Corin Temar, the Prince of Jaiset, heir to the throne. The princess’s older brother. Despite his living in the palace with her, Lyla didn’t often see him. His duties and his sister’s were usually very different. Their paths for the most part only crossed at banquets and duels. Now that she knew who he was, Lyla remembered that the prince was an avid duelist. She gasped and bowed her head quickly. “Your Light,” she said. “I’m so sorry. If I’d have known it was you–” "You would have fought them off yourself or something?” He laughed as he put his sword away. “Don’t apologize for giving me an excuse to fight; it was a good sport. I’m sorry the other two ran off, but at least I got to fight one of them. It’s too bad he was a knife fighter, though. They’re too wily to be fun for long; if you’re not careful you’ll find them behind you with their blade in your ribs. Best just to kill them quickly.” Lyla nodded, not trusting herself to words. The topic made her feel sick again, but she didn’t want to offend the Li-Jaisem. He was one of the court’s best duelists; it wasn’t surprising he would enjoy a street fight. She needed to be respectful. He walked over to her, stepping over Feris on his way. “You look familiar. You’re one of my sister’s girls, aren’t you? What’s your name?” “Su-Jaisa Lyla Serah, Your Light.” She said, bowing her head. He put a hand under her chin, lifting her face. “Oh, come now. No need for such titles, Lyla” She stiffened at his touch and the use of her first name. “I just saved you. Surely you and I are beyond those silly things.” She pulled back, shocked at his forwardness. “No thank you, Li-Jaisem, I prefer to use titles. It would be informal otherwise. If you will excuse me, I must return to the palace.” She bowed quickly before walking around him and hoping she hadn’t been too rude. After she’d gone a few steps, he re-appeared at her elbow. “Let me escort you then.” He said with a smile. “I’ve finished my business and am returning to the palace myself. I’d hate to have all my hard work go to waste were you to be attacked again, Su-Jaisa Lyla.” The way he emphasized her servant’s title made it sound as though it were some joke between them. She was feeling uncomfortable with his casual attitude and would have preferred to walk alone, but he was the heir to the throne. It wasn’t as if she could say no. She ducked her head to try to avoid eye contact, hoping it would keep him from talking to her, but no such luck. “So what was one of my sister’s servants doing in a neighborhood like this?” What was the Daiem’s son doing in a neighborhood like this? She wondered, but didn’t ask. Instead, she continued looking straight ahead as she responded, and made sure not to address him either by title or name. It seemed safest for now. “Your sister sent me. Her regular perfumist moved to Shariel a few weeks ago, and so I was sent to an herbalist whose shop is near here. He was recommended by one of the ladies of court.” They continued talking as they walked back to the Inner City, the prince trying to keep up a conversation, Lyla trying to answer as concisely as possible so as to end them. She wished she could simply not respond, but her manners wouldn’t let her. He was persistent, keeping the conversation limping along until they reached the foot of the long, wide staircase leading up to the palace. Silently thanking Elumis for an excuse to leave him and end the whole ordeal, she finally faced him and bowed once more. “Thank you Li-Jaisem, for accompanying me back to the palace. Perhaps our paths will cross again.” Though no time soon would be nice. “And what about my payment?” He asked just as she started to walk up the steps. “I saved you; you owe me your life. Can’t I expect something in return?” She turned back, rather surprised. “Li-Jaisem, I have nothing to give you. I have no possessions or money to my name. If I am indebted to you, I must profess I do not know how to repay it.” “Your company was wonderful, and I only wish to spend more time with you. Come by my rooms later tonight, and we’ll get to know each other better, hmm?” He smiled at her knowingly. She felt blood rise to her face, though whether from embarrassment or indignation she wasn’t sure. Perhaps a mix of both. Her voice was tense as she answered. “Your Light, I wish no disrespect, but I must refuse. I am your sister’s servant. To be alone and unsupervised with you would be inappropriate. If you do, in fact, believe me to be in your debt, I would suggest you speak with your sister about allowing me to repay you in a more suitable way. Now, if you will excuse me, I must get back to your sister.” She had no intention of waiting to be excused by him, propriety be burned. She wanted to get away as soon as possible, before he could try anything else. --- Author's notes: This scene might seem a bit familiar to those of you very familiar with Way of Kings. I constructed Corin's character to be something a bit like "Adolin gone wrong". A talented duelist, a ladies' man, and a prince - but Corin has none of Adolin's character. This scene in particular was inspired by a scene in WoK where Adolin saves a prostitute, and she offers him her services as repayment. I wanted to flip the tables a little bit and explore the other side.

I'm not sure I completely understand. What are the Orre? Did you make a civ? I'd love to read about them! Feel free to post here! Also, I suppose I could post what I've written of the new story. It's tentatively titled To Cut A Desert Rose.

That's the end of the audition phase and the last we hear from Kalir and his friends. However, I did start writing what I planned to be the story for my first round. I really liked the idea that I had and even after the competition fell through, I started to work on it. Instead of waiting for my opponent's civilization, I made my own and began to write it out. It takes place a few hundred years after this one, so the characters are different, but if anyone would be interested in reading that one, I'd post it here as well. It's not complete - not by a long shot, but I've been thinking about starting to work on it again.

Part 5 Kalir and the Shari arrived at the Redstone Arch a week before the coronation was to take place. It was a lively week, for the time before the coronation of a Daiem or Daia was always celebratory. During the day, life went on fairly regularly – chores were done, food was prepared, water collected – but each night was filled with festivities. There was always music playing and dancing taking place. Fires burned late and stories were told around them. And the faint red glow over the canyons testified to similar celebration within Jaiset as well. But now that the day had finally arrived, something had changed in the mood of the Shari. There was a tension in the camp, an anxious anticipation, like the feeling of a breath held or a taut bowstring. Words were murmured and soft, actions were hesitant, and a strange quiet covered the group like a fog. Something important was going to change today, and everyone seemed to be waiting for it. Gradually, a sound grew from the canyons. It was faint at first, barely distinguishable from the wind, but as the Shari stopped what they were doing to listen, it became clearer. Cheering. The royal procession was on its way, and it sounded like all of Jaiset was coming with it. As the noise echoed and grew, what little sound there was outside the canyons fell away to silence completely. Kalir felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see that Varine had come up to stand beside him. Finally, after what seemed a lifetime to him, the procession rounded a cliff and came into view. The roar of the Jais hit him and the Shari beside him like a blast of wind. The mass of people teemed, flowing like the water of the rainy seasons through the twists and turns of the walls. But despite the chaos of the crowds, Kalir’s eye was drawn right to the figure leading them. A woman he hadn’t seen in twelve long years. His sister. When he’d left, Reene had been just a girl and wracked with fever at that. Even before her sickness, she’d been quiet and shy, but kind and always smiling. So very different from the young woman who led the Jais out with poise and grace. The timidity had been replaced by confidence, but not arrogance. This was a woman who’d never sought out attention but rather resigned herself to it, accepting leadership out of necessity, not a thirst for power. And she was beautiful. Her skin was pale, like the rest of the Jaiseti who lived within the canyons. Her hair, pulled up in a complex weave, was a light blonde instead of the sun-stained dark hair Kalir was used to seeing on the Shari. She wore a sleeveless dress tied around her slim waist with a small belt, with a skirt which was short and open in the front, yet long enough in the back to brush her heels as she walked. Kalir tried to catch her eye as she walked closer, but she didn’t seem to see him in the crowd of Shari. It occurred to him that she probably didn’t recognize him. He was twelve years older now, and the last time she’d seen him, he’d been as pale colored as her. Elumis had changed him greatly in the years outside. Beneath the Arch was a structure which hadn’t been there when Kalir had been exiled. It was something the Jais wouldn’t have needed before the Shari existed; a watch tower. A clay structure a few hands taller than a person, it had large hand and foot holds dug into its side and enough room for about two to three people to stand comfortably on top. The Arch loomed above, hundreds of feet higher, and cast a shadow over the proceedings. Its sprawling height seemed to laugh at the comparatively small construction beneath it. Reene walked to the tower, calm and composed. Kalir was wondering if she’d climb the sides, when two of her guards lifted her to the top, where another two helped her up. When she turned back to the crowd within the canyons, she raised her arms high and lifted her face to Elumis’ light. The ceremony had been scheduled so that Arch’s shadow didn’t fall on the watchtower. “As I stand beneath the light of Elumis,” Reene shouted, her voice ringing loudly and clearly over the masses, “I ask for strength, for the task before me is great. I ask for wisdom, for the choices before me are difficult. I ask for guidance, for the future is unclear. And finally, I ask Elumis’ blessing, with which I accept the role and responsibilities of Daia of Jaiset. May his light shine upon my actions and his people.” As the last words carried, the people of Jaiset cheered and raised their arms in response. The Shari remained silent, still unsure and anxious about the newly-raised Daia. Then, Reene slowly lowered her arms and the cheering died, the Jais falling as silent as the Shari to hear what she would say. “People of Jaiset,” Reene proclaimed. “For all of us, the changing of the Dai means many things. The passing of a Daiem is a mournful experience, yet the ascension of his heir is a time of celebration. We can feel fear and trepidation, anxious about an uncertain future, yet feel hope that such a future could be a better place. “Even so, there is one thing that is constant, one thing that the changing of Dai always means: change. I am not my father. I can hope to live up to his accomplishments and try to avoid his mistakes, yet we will never be the same person. While some things will stay the same, some things will change, and I ask for your understanding in this.” Reene paused, and turned just the slightest bit away from the canyons. “That being said,” she continued, “I will give my first proclamation as Daia. Twelve years ago, a young man left the canyons, breaking our most closely-kept rule. He was branded a heretic and banished, but others followed him.” She swept her arm toward the Shari behind her, and Kalir tensed. “You can see before you today the consequences of his actions. Hundreds stand with him, their skin stained from Elumis’ constant light. As they grow, it becomes more and more difficult to keep our canyons pure. Their foreign goods infiltrate our walls, their stories of the outside ring in our ears. This cultural warfare is not sustainable, something must give. “And yet,” she continued, her voice suddenly soft. “Have we not already lost? Those of us within Jaiset speak of shunning all who’ve left and all that they bring, but the fact remains that without the outside I would not be standing before you today. I would be dead, and that young heretic so many of you curse would be standing in my place, accepting the role of Daiem. Reene leaned forward over the tower’s edge. “We have been told all our lives that these canyons are Elumis’ gift to our people, and that leaving them would be to forsake that gift. Yet, think of a garden. One need not stay with the plants all day for fear of losing them. In fact, going out and finding things like water and fresh soil will help the garden far more than simply standing within it. Constant attention alone does not show appreciation for Elumis’ gifts. Instead, we should care for them, and do what is most helpful, even if it means leaving for a while. “Someone very close to me once said that the entire world is Elumis’ gift to us, and by penning ourselves in these canyons, we ignore that wonderful gift. After hearing the stories of other peoples, cultures, and goods, I must agree. It is our duty to take what is given to us and make it better, for all things belong to Elumis and to him all things will one day return. We cannot improve the world from these canyons. We must go out and appreciate his creation, and become stewards of his great works. “Whether we are Jais or Shari, we are all Jaiseti. Therefore,” she said, her voice growing stronger. “I, Daia Reene of Jaiset, do hereby declare the canyons of Jaiset open to all! Let no one be held within them or kept without!” As she finished, she threw her arms out, taking in both the Jais and the Shari. There was a stunned silence. No one spoke. The only sound was the shuffling of feet. After a moment, Reene nodded as if she’d expected this and quietly said something to the tower guards. Carefully, they lowered her back down to the ground. The Jais around the tower’s base stepped back to give her room. Head held high, she turned and walked away from the canyons. At the Arch’s edge, the official boundary of the canyons, she paused for just a moment, but then stepped over the invisible line. Whispers started among the Jais. As Reene strode toward the Shari, Kalir slowly began walking forward to meet her. They met in the open ground between the two groups and stopped, facing each other. She had to look up to meet his eyes as he was nearly a head taller than her. “I never got to thank you for saving my life,” she said softly. “You gave up so much for me.” “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He said. Suddenly, she reached forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He held her close; hardly able to believe that she was here with him after all this time. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered. “Me too.” Somewhere behind him, one of the Shari shouted, “Elumis shine on the Daia!” It swept like wild fire through the crowds, even the Jais taking up the cry. Out of the Jais, a man stepped forward from the canyons and passed under the arch. A woman from the Shari side pushed through the people around and ran forward to leap into his arms. People cheered. Slowly, more and more people left the canyons, rushing out to reunite with loved ones. Some of the Jais stayed back of course; there were still those who feared the outside and the tales of curses. However, many had seen the Shari and realized that there was no curse or death outside, and had only been trapped by the laws. Now that Reene had lifted the restrictions, there was nothing holding them back. Kalir and Reene pulled away, watching reunions happen all around them. There were tears in Reene’s eyes, despite the smile on her face. “You’ve done something amazing, Reene.” He said, looking around in wonder. “People will remember this day for generations.” “We’ve done something amazing,” she corrected. “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t left. You changed us, Kalir. All I did was make it official.” He nodded slowly. “Everything changes now, doesn’t it?” “For the better, as Elumis provides.”

Part 4 “Nona Sara, tell us about the day that you and the Tei left Jaiset! Please, please, please?” Kalir paused as he heard a young girl’s voice pleading for another story. After nearly half a year, Sara and Aycee were back from one of their expeditions and he’d been searching for them to hear about their latest travels. Fortunately, it seemed Elumis had led him straight to them. He walked around one of the tents which were common out here in Shariel and found himself on the outskirts of a small crackling fire. Youngsters sat in a ring around the flames, their eyes eager and curious for stories of far-off lands. Their elders stood around them, ostensibly watching the children, but were just as interested in listening to the tales. And all eyes were on Sara, sitting on a flat stone almost directly across the fire from Kalir. Her eyes sparkled mischievously in the firelight as she reveled in the presence of an audience. Her hair was shorter than when he’d last seen her and strands of it were woven with glass beads around her face. Like most Jais who spent time in the sun, her hair was darkest at the roots and streaked through with dramatic sun-bleached highlights that grew lighter as they reached the tips. There was something in her eyes that reminded Kalir of her sister. He smiled at the thought of Varine. Before Sara could respond to the request of the girl at her feet, she saw Kalir. He’d stayed at the back of the group and nearly everyone was turned away from him, so she was the only one to notice him. She smiled, but seemed slightly embarrassed that he was there. She turned to the girl, trying to back out of the story. “You don’t really want to hear that one, do you? Teiem Kalir and Teia Varine left Jaiset nearly twelve years ago. Most of you weren’t even born yet! And surely you’ve heard it before.” Twelve years. Kalir could hardly believe it had been that long since he’d left. He didn’t feel old enough, but counting the years, he realized he was nearly thirty now. Sara’s audience was insistent. “Please, Nona! You and Nonem Aycee were there when it happened!” A small boy spoke up from the ring. “Well,” she said, “Technically we weren’t there. Nonem Aycee and I didn’t leave until after the Tei had returned to Jaiset.” “But you know it better than anyone!” Young voices piped up all around the fire, demanding the story. Sara met Kalir’s eyes, looking trapped, and the embarrassment returned to her expression. Ah, he thought. She doesn’t want to tell it because I’m here. He shrugged and waved his hand, giving her permission. She gave a small sigh of relief and mouthed “thank you.” “Okay, okay,” She said, dramatically holding up her hands in defeat. She was already performing. “You all have convinced me. I will tell you about the Exile of the Tei.” Her small listeners gave a small cheer, but hushed quickly, not wanting to miss the beginning. Sara was a wonderful storyteller. Kalir simply listened to her voice rising and falling as she moved through the tale. She spun settings and emotions with just a few words, mentioning details vividly where she could remember them, making them up where she didn’t. Kalir was struck by how heroic and noble she made the story seem. He hadn’t felt adventurous when he and Varine had searched for the feversbane. He’d felt scared and desperate. He’d been worried that they were cursed, that they’d never find their way back, or that they’d simply die out in the desert and no one would care. The curse Sara described in terrible detail. Most of her young listeners had been born outside the canyons and had lived in Elumis’ light all their life. They had been too young to remember their curses, and had to rely on the testimonies of their elders and storytellers like Sara to imagine it. The older members of the audience looked uncomfortable at the graphic descriptions of the curse, some even rubbing their arms nervously. Many of them could remember all too well their first days outside Jaiset and the terrible burns which had plagued them until they had reached Shariel and its wonderful graceleaf. The travelers were something Kalir and Varine had never anticipated. They’d returned to the valley where they’d found the feversbane with Sara and Aycee, following white marks that Varine had had foresight enough to scratch into the stones with chalk. Only a few weeks later, two brothers had showed up, tired and burned, after traveling the three-day journey. They’d thought the brothers were a unique occurrence; a pair of thrill-seekers, but people had continued to come. After them, a husband and wife had found their way to the valley. A family of four arrived after that. Only half a year after the exile, there had been nearly twenty people living in the valley. People left for all kinds of reasons. Some wanted to see the world and the wonders within it. Some were running from something – a difficult situation, a debt they couldn’t repay, a crime whose punishment they feared. Some ran away for love, some for hate. Some were curious. Some simply wished to truly live beneath Elumis. When Kalir and Varine had returned to Jaiset, they’d shattered the myths of the outside world. They’d defied the most basic rule and they hadn’t been turned to ash or sand, they hadn’t become feral beasts, and they hadn’t died, even after an entire week outside. So others followed. They’d begun to differentiate themselves from those still in the canyons. The valley was now called Shariel, loosely meaning “a respite” in Jaiseti. The people adopted titles, addressing women as “Shara” and men as “Shariem.” When they had needed a leader, they looked to Kalir. He and Varine had been the first to leave, and many of the Shari had known him as the son of the Daiem back in Jaiset. He’d been trained to lead all his life and he’d stepped into the position without much trouble. However, when he’d begun taking the lead, people had started calling him “Daiem.” He’d been uncomfortable with it, and often asked people to stop. His father was Daiem and would be as long as he lived, and when he died, Reene would succeed him as Daia. There couldn’t be two Daiems. It would seem like he was trying to incite a rebellion and establish his own independent tribe – something he had no intention of doing. He constantly insisted that the Shari were Jaiseti, even if they didn’t live within the canyons anymore. So Varine had suggested that people use the title “Tei” instead. It was a simple title, just “leader,” without any of the royal connotations of “Dai.” He still wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but within days of her mentioning the change to him, people were addressing him as Teiem Kalir and her as Teia Varine. Sometime during the first year, Sara and Aycee had set off for unknown lands. Some of the younger, more adventurous members of the community had gone with them, but most had stayed in Shariel. Kalir had assumed that they had left for good, but they returned a little over a year later, bearing exotic plants, foods, and trinkets and telling stories of other peoples across the desert. Sara had been amused by the newfound insistence on titles, but had gone along when the Shari had bestowed the titles of “Nona” and “Nonem” – “Wanderer” – upon her and the rest of the travelers. She, Aycee and the Non had stayed for a few weeks in Shariel, but set out again for new lands. Each time they returned, they had new goods and new tales to tell. The most traveled path though, was the one to and from the Jaiseti canyons themselves. The Daiem had declared that all who left the canyons were exiled, but there were still those who would return. They didn’t set foot within the borders of Jaiset and the Jais never left, but the boundary was large, poorly defined, and difficult to patrol. A black market had sprung up and was thriving within this gray area. Exotic goods and tales were highly demanded within the canyons, and the Shari were willing to trade them for the loosely woven Jaiseti fabrics or other goods, and news or contact with loved ones were precious to those on the outside. Leaving the canyons was easier nowadays. The Shari traders were clear about when they planned on leaving so they often returned to Shariel with a few newcomers. Varine insisted that any groups traveling on the trail to Jaiset carry enough graceleaf for four people. The leaves couldn’t stop the curse, but they did make the pain bearable. Sara finished her tale dramatically, with the four of them staring into the sunset filled with hope for the future and ready to lead their people into a new era. Kalir shook his head slightly, amused at the exaggeration. The listeners burst into applause, and Sara stood and took a small bow. She caught his expression at the back and gave a barely noticeable shrug, as if to say “What’s the harm?” before smiling at her young fans. Kalir caught her eyes again and motioned behind him; he needed to talk to her and couldn’t have her launching into another story. As he walked away, he heard her excusing herself and apologizing to the group. She caught up with him shortly after, throwing her arm around his shoulders in a friendly embrace as she walked beside him. He ducked under her arm quickly; it was difficult to walk with her hanging off of him like that. “I wish you wouldn’t. I’m the Teiem, people will talk.” “I’m your sister-in-law, it’s not like it means anything. I should be allowed to hug my brother. I swear, if you’ve made my sister as boring and uptight as you…” She rolled her eyes, but let him go. “Speaking of Varine, how is she?” “She’s doing fine.” He laughed. “I swear, everyone acts like I’m in charge, but nothing would get done around here if not for her. It seems like she’s always organizing something or fixing problems. I’m sure I don’t even know half of the things she does for me and she’d never tell.” “Are we going to her now? I’ve got something to tell both of you.” “Yes. Our tent is at the valley mouth.” He looked sideways at her. “What is it?” She shook her head. “It’d really be better if I told you both at the same time.” “If you say so,” he said uncertainly. Uncharacteristically, she fell silent, so he followed suit and they walked without speaking the rest of the way. As he’d said, Kalir’s tent was close to the entrance to the valley, in the small secluded area where he and Varine had first discovered the feversbane all those years ago. The tent was simple, woven from the light brown fibers of the caris plant, like most Shari tents. The location was private but accessible, and contained a small pool of water fed from the same spring as the river which ran through the rest of Shariel. Varine had turned the rest of the land around the pool into gardens, and all kinds of plants grew around the tent. Some were edible, but most were medicinal. Even as Teia, Varine was one of the most accomplished healers in Shariel. “Varine?” Kalir called as he pushed back the tent flap. “Sara’s back.” She turned as they entered, smiling as she set down the mortar and pestle she’d been using. Her wavy hair was the same dark, yet sun-streaked combination as the rest of the Shari, and she’d tied it back with a small strip of cloth. Kalir, as always, was struck by how beautiful she was. She was older now, yes, and there were lines around her mouth and eyes now, but her smile and the sparkle in her eyes were as lively as ever. “Sara!” she exclaimed, running to hug her sister. “How was your journey?” “Long, hot, and difficult,” Sara said. “But worthwhile. We found some new plants you might want to check out; including a leaf that this tribe to the north says will allow you to talk to the spirits. And you must see these stone carvings we traded for as well, covered in all kinds of symbols and so intricate you’d swear they were real. And in this small oasis village-” “Sara,” Kalir interrupted. “Didn’t you have something you needed to tell us?” “Oh, yes.” Sara said, her face growing darker. “On our way back, we stopped at Jaiset for a few days to trade. Almost every single person who came out to our camp told us the news.” “What?” Varine asked. “What is it?” Sara closed her eyes for a moment, then looked up and met Kalir’s eyes. “The Daiem is dead.” Kalir felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. His breath left him in a rush and he sat down on his heels, placing his hands on the ground in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Varine raise a hand to her mouth with a small gasp. Sara’s eyes were filled with sympathy and sadness; she hated to be the bearer of bad news. After a few moments, Kalir stood back up, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. “So does that mean that Reene is Daia now?” He asked softly. “Actually,” Sara said, “That’s what I really needed to talk to you about. The day your father died, Kalir, Reene announced that she was postponing her coronation.” “That’s not really unusual, is it?” Varine said. “Perhaps she simply needs time to deal with the loss.” “She put it off for two months.” Sara said insistently. “And on top of that, she isn’t holding the ceremony within the Grand Hall, either.” “What?” Kalir asked. “Where then, if not there?” “The Redstone Arch.” Sara said, enunciating each syllable. “Now, Aycee and I talked with some of our traders and we’ve discussed it between the two of us, but really we can only see one reason why she would do all of this.” Varine still looked confused, but Kalir had figured it out. “She wants the Shari there.” He said quietly. Varine turned to him, looking shocked, but Sara just nodded; she’d come to the same conclusion. “It all fits together,” she said. “She’s picked the spot as close to Shariel as possible without leaving the canyons. She had to delay, because she didn’t know when the next group of traders would come in, and she had to allow enough time to us to get here and go back again. And the fact that we were told the news by so many different people means that she made sure we would hear.” Varine put a finger to her mouth, thinking. “So what do we do?” Kalir ran a hand through his hair. He’d thought he’d need time to think about it, but he realized his decision had already been made. “We’re going.” He said. “We leave at first light tomorrow.”

Yep. The admin who was running it is actually competing in another OCT called Many Worlds, so who knows how long it could be. Since people seem to be reading this again, I'll go ahead and post parts 4 and 5, since they've been done forever!

There really ought to be a way to change your up- or downvotes... But I thank you for the attempt!