The Burning of Innocence

Ch. 9: Just Breathe

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 17:57:00 +0000

It was only I who could sense them in our family, which was due to my freak nature. As soon as I met my parents’ eyes, they knew who was at the door also.

Tarass was over before it started. Mother jumped into panic mode. My father, knowing better, asked our guests to leave through the back entrance as fast and quiet as they could. Silo’s expression changed when my parents tried to usher him out the back. I imagined he’d only heard about the Sniffers but never actually had a visit from them. Silo’s family had nothing to hide while mine was only hanging by a thread.

We’d already had three visits in my lifetime.

The guests had managed to leave but Silo said he’d forgotten something back in my room. Since there was no time to lose, I told him to go and get it. Meanwhile, my father was taking out the emergency kit where my parents kept their Occuli.

“Put the ring on,” mother said as she threw me the adjusting ring. Thankfully, I was too scared to drop it. When I put it on, my father came with the blue and yellow Occuli in both hands. Before I could brace myself for the hit, he crashed them together to produce the lightning that would change my eye-color from green to brown.

The ring stung my index finger as it stopped the small storm from spreading. I heard the thunder in my head but kept from screaming. My father’s invention was ingenious. It was supposed to not only muffle the sound externally but also drain the heat from my body so that I didn’t show any of the typical signs of a Medley: hot skin, fire allergy, and little to no sweating.

And the only thing that could blow the cover was the ring. Fortunately, the Sniffers never inquired about the ring… yet. Sometimes I thought of my life as a high-risk gamble, which I could lose at any minute. The stress alone was making me heat up again. Seeing this, my mother begged me to breathe.

I did.

Since we’d practiced this a hundred times when Trick was out, we managed to finish in the record time of two minutes. In the meantime, the ring was growing louder and more restless, chiming my verdict before I was caught.

Squeak-grunt-squeak-grunt-squeak. That ring was a joke.

My father made his steps toward the door, knowing that my mother wouldn’t be able to compose herself. But before he could open the door, I heard a flurry of steps behind me. I turned toward the back entrance to see Silo’s back disappearing. In the commotion, we’d forgotten that Silo was still in the house.

My mother’s face confirmed it. He’d seen the whole thing. And now, my father was opening the door to Hell. Just breathe.

Ch. 8: Frostbite

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 11 Jun 2011 22:42:00 +0000

Without hesitating, both Silo and I jumped from the bed, ran into the corridor, down the battered stairs into the living room, where my parents had guests. Crap, I’d forgotten all about the Saturday Conley Convention. Basically, it was a boring event devoid of any structure or purpose, held on the third Saturday of every month. My parents, along with some other neighboring families, would sit in a circle (the arrangement of furniture alone was a nightmare) and share the lessons that they’d learned during the previous two weeks. Like I said, pointless.

‘Trick, hon. Can you children play elsewhere? We have to concentrate on our Tarass now.’

I never got ‘Rya, hon’, not once.

Tarass was an even more pointless ritual where the adults would write their lessons on a piece of paper and burn it for good luck and prosperity. It wasn’t real magic, yet my parents insisted that it brought them fortune.

Trick gave me the devil eye. ‘Sure Mum. I was just telling Rye not to disturb, but you know her…’ I kicked him in the shins which won me twenty-three scolds in total. Must be a record.

I motioned to Silo to get away from the room before it started smelling like burning dreams. My second least favorite smell in the entire world. But just as we reached the stairs, the bell rang, and by bell I mean the horrid little perverted tune that my parents had found in the trash. It had a steady beat but it sounded nothing like ringing, more like grunting on a squeaky mattress, of which we had plenty. Squeak-grunt-squeak-grunt-squeak.

I rushed over to see who it was just to make it stop. Before I reached the handle, however, I felt a cold breeze run through my fingers, wrist, arm, elbow, and shoulders, aiming straight for the heart. It was nothing like I’d ever felt before. That’s why I froze on the door, ignoring everybody else’s voices, and just concentrated on a new, quiet one that rained over my senses like a summer drizzle at first, but then cut them like frost-bite.

It couldn’t be… them. Could it? When I actually managed to compose myself and turn to face my parents, their faces bore the same expression I felt rising on mine. Silo, on the other hand bless him, had no idea what was going on.

I never did tell him the one secret my parents and I kept from the world.

Ch. 7: Aftermath

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 17:30:00 +0000

‘Aha,’ he said, staring at my Linger Maps, tracing down every corner of Osculum I had ever been to.

‘Did you hear what I said?’

For a moment there, Silo was entranced by my little doodles as if they held some kind of secret to life only I knew about. ‘Yeah, yeah. That Kensey bitch bugs me too, but you have to let-‘

‘Did you hear the rest of what I said?’ I interrupted.

‘Nah, I’m just having an off-day,’ he said.

‘Do I wanna know?’

He shook his head and that was enough for me to back off. Then he ran his hand through his matted ponytail and pointed out that my room needed some sprucing up, at which I snorted. It wasn’t that bad, really. It had its … minimalistic charm. And whatever anyone claims, there is no excuse for clutter. From its lonely spot on the wall, my poster of Simbaya the Scorcher winked at me. I shook off yet another hallucination. Those came along quite often recently…

I had to stop myself from overthinking yet another pointless subject. The tides were rolling in and I could do nothing to stop them. And since there was no other way for me to vent my frustration and helplessness, I did my usual visualization where I buried the feelings deep into a hole in the ground. Then I said my mantra three times in my mind. “I am only spirit, this flesh is only mortal.” I cringed at those words sometimes because they sounded fancy-shmancy and naive. Yet, I hadn’t thought of that when I’d picked it out of hundreds to be my life-tune. It sounded wise at the time.

After I finished, I repeated what I’d told Silo earlier, quite abruptly with no preamble. This cost him a deep choke and I had to revive him for the next five minutes by hammering my fists on his back, repeatedly. ‘What-‘ Cough cough. ‘He said what?’

‘He asked me-’

‘Bloody trillion birds of Aspen! He asked you to be his-‘

‘Apprentice,’ I said, feeling the trill of the word against my vocal cords and then its pressure against my ears. It tasted sweet, like melon.

‘Have you told-?’

‘No. Can you imagine their reactions?’

Silo couldn’t drop his eyes from me, doodles forgotten. ‘But you’re going to.’

‘Of course,’ I said without thinking. Without thinking indeed.

‘Can I watch?’

I threw one of the throw-pillows at him but he ducked just in time. For the first time I noticed that the pillow strangely resembled him, which he obviously tried to ignore or didn’t care about. It was a mongoose-like kind of creature with overlong limbs. I think they called it Kakista beyond Osculum (where no interesting creatures dwelled).

When I was about to say that I would not –in a trillion flying monkeys- let him witness my worst nightmare, the door opened wide. I jumped at the too-familiar grating voice of my little brother.

‘Am telling Mom,’ he said and closed it before I could react.

Ch. 6: The World in His Eyes

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 18:34:00 +0000

Meanwhile, my eyes were hooked on a small boy, who looked too young to be holding a huge metal instrument, and yet he did his job with speed and precision. I took a few steps to see his face, and when I finally saw the left side of it, I recognized the same screen I’d seen on Gogor’s face. The boy’s eye, though, seemed alive with… something I did not recognize.

“I saw what you did at the Burning. I wonder why your parents even let you attend these rituals.” Gogor’s words, though sounding less and less threatening, made me lose my balance. I felt the fear burning on my face, but I didn’t have time to hide it. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told anybody.”

I could hear the sound of my own heart over the din of metal hitting rock.

“It wouldn’t serve me well, would it?” he said, smiling. I had to blink hard to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. I had not seen a member of the Olden circle smile before. Not even once.

“What-“ I choked, still nervous because of what he said. For all those years of hiding what I was, I should have gotten better at covering my blunders and lying about it, but alas, I was only good for tripping and choking on words. Pathetic. My mind swam with visions of being shunned from Osculum, along with my whole family.

“What do you mean serve?” I was on the verge of bursting in tears. It was one thing to expect to end up at the worst possible place, but to be banned from my home along with people whose lives were in constant danger because of me, was even worse. The price of harboring a Medley into one’s home was a lifetime in the depths of the Concaves, no matter what the family’s name or rank was.

“What I mean to say is…” He stopped, then slowly got closer. “Don’t be afraid, I didn’t mean to scare or upset you, Rya. I just had to know if your spirit was pure.”

I frowned at the nonsense that spilled out of his mouth. I had always thought that Hopefuls, at least, had to do better than that. “I don’t understand,” I mumbled, my eyes pinned to the skilful small boy, whose fate I’d soon no doubt be sharing.

“Wisdom’s earned in time,” he said.

“Wisdom?”

I finally looked up at his face to see that he was smiling again, or perhaps he had been smiling all this time. I could see the whole wide world in his eyes and that scared me. People did not have worlds in their eyes, only pain. At least they did where I grew up.

As if reading my mind, Gogor said, “I know you want more from life than this. And I know you try to convince yourself it’s okay. You probably have friends who are headed here as well, and that’s okay, too.”

I opened my mouth to cut him off, but his hand flew up in the air to stop me from speaking.

“I think that you can do much more. I’m going to be honest with you, Rya. I expect more from you. And if you let me, I’ll teach you everything I know.”

I was so choked up that I couldn’t say more than, ‘Bught- I mean, you- You want me to..”

Unlike most people, Gogor didn’t laugh. His eyes, however, grew warmer.

“Yes. I want you to be my Apprentice.”

I could faint right there on the spot.

'Story Guide' and 'Chapters' Widgets

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 18:17:00 +0000

Hello, wonderful people! Just a heads-up, I've updated the blog so that everyone can follow the story-line without any difficulties arising. If you look on the right, you'll see two new widgets under the Rya's Story one, titled GUIDE & Chapters. Under GUIDE I've provided links to pages and posts where you can see the basic info that you need in order to follow the story as it goes.

'Welcome' links back to the first post which introduces the blog and its purpose. 'Blurb' links to a page containing the basic summary of the story, very short. 'Meet Rya' links back to one of the first posts, which includes Rya's picture and some basic information about her I've just added today. And finally, 'Book of Will' contains all fantasy terms you are unfamiliar with that are inherent to the plot, in alphabetical order; a sort of a reference guide right there.

And if you're new to the blog, you can go back and read the chapters from the start with the help of the 'Chapters' widget underneath. Hopefully, all this makes it easier for you guys. Thank you for stopping by and joining Rya on her journey!

Ch. 5: The Wisdom of Children

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 21:34:00 +0000

“Why did we come here?”

I was standing inside of a small cell within a chain of tiny caves, surrounding the main alcove in the middle. I could see the children extract the stones and brush off the suplus rock bits off with the heavy, metal polishers until their fingers bled. Others held just as heavy extractors, pulling at the colorful stones, careful not to break them. Some of those children were not much older than nine, and most were covered in dirt and sweat, rarely conversing or even looking up from their designated stones sticking from the rock walls.

“I was just curious what you’d think of all that.”

I sniffed. Gogor had a twisted sense of communicating. When he had pulled out my Oculus out of the slime, or rather extracted it, he’d simply asked me to accompany him. Stunned, I'd asked him where he was going, and he answered: ‘Errand.’ I agreed because I was curious to see what kind of errands Hopefuls had to do, and I was expecting something more or less magical, or grand in some way. I should have known that nobodys didn’t get to see magic.

Kins of lower descent didn’t have access to the knowledge, and my own family’s hopes were planted in Trick’s future apprenticeship, which would ultimately save him and my parents from the lesser lives they lead. I had dreamed about the same thing once, but it was me who got to be the apprentice and Trick the one who’d go to the Concaves. It’s not that I didn’t love my brother; it was more rivalry and envy for something I hungered for and didn’t have a chance to get.

But this… was worse than I had imagined.

“Is this your future, d’you think?”

A traitorous snort escaped my lips. Laughter was bubbling up my throat, but I kept it at bay because I didn’t want to look like a mad person who laughs at the pain of little children. As I watched them dig and pull and polish and sneeze, I realized that I’d had it wrong all along. I didn’t have the worst of it because the worst would have been people finding out what I was and throwing me to work like these small children, forced to do manual labor like adults, which they were not.

I wanted to throw up. The world had gone mad if children had to do the work of grown men. I knew that it was their punishment for being half-breeds and homeless, and they had to work to make a living, or else they’d be dead or barely surviving out there. And yet, how could child labor ever be considered a good idea?

Gogor’s face did not betray any emotion whatsoever. In fact, his words rang back in my ears as if I hadn’t realized what he had asked me, only how he’d said it. Void of feeling. It somewhat made sense for someone who was so high up to be so out of touch.

“I don’t think this should be anybody’s future,” I said.

I was afraid that he’d hit me for speaking my mind, but some part of me knew he wouldn’t touch me like that. In spite of his lack of emotion, he had warm eyes.

“I agree,” he said, laughing. It wasn’t really a laugh as much as a chortle; a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I crossed my arms to hide my confusion.

Mystic Style

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 02:59:00 +0000

Due to technical difficulties with the previous template, I have chosen a new one. I think it fits the story perfectly, so I hope you'll like it.

And don't worry, I don't plan on changing anything around here any time soon. After all, what is a story without consistency.

Speaking of which, Ch. 5 was tough. I will post it today.

Book of Will Says...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 26 May 2011 22:14:00 +0000

Magica Wydoma: The Wisdom of Magic. The craft which the Olden Circle and their apprentices use to read dreams and charge them into Occuli.

High Courts: Headquarters of the Olden Circle members and apprentices. Something like the Queen’s Buckingham Palace.

Ch. 4: Magica Wydoma

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 26 May 2011 22:09:00 +0000

His overlong robe swept the dirty ground behind him without sprouting any stains or cuts. It just flowed as effortlessly as its owner. I caught a glimpse of his medallion, hanging heavy on his neck. It was as round and big as the full moon on a clear night. It bore two letters, twining into a mouth-like symbol with jagged teeth. M & W. Magica Wydoma, the symbol of the Olden Circle. Meanwhile, everybody else was making way for him to reach me. With a swift motion, he outstretched his hand to help me stand up. It struck me that I was still sitting on my butt. Grudgingly, I accepted his help.

Then he walked over to the frozen pond and undid whatever trick he’d pulled out of his rabbit hat. Though, of course, he did not have a hat as it would definitely sit funny on a Hopeful’s head. As soon as the pond regained its previous liquid form, it started to boil, emitting a horrid smell and a likewise sickening sound of rattling liquid. It sounded as if the slime wanted to splash all over the place and be put out of its misery. Meanwhile, I felt my skin prickle where it had hit the ‘ground’ hard. I tugged at my sleeve without thinking; I was so transfixed by his skill.

I did not know how Wisdom worked. After all, I’d probably never be allowed into the walls of the High Courts. But the ease of his words spilling like a gentle waterfall, the way his eyes had flickered when he saw me, and every movement he made were the complete opposite of my own jerky, inadequate, and moronic speech patterns and limb movements. How I wished I could be like him.

Meanwhile, as if having an audience did not bother him at all, he proceeded to crouch next to the boiling pond and mutter some kind of incantation or prayer. I wondered why his nose hadn’t imploded under the smell of rotting Nature. But he kept his ground and, soon enough, an oval shape started emerging, eventually landing into his outstretched hand. When it did, the pond stopped boiling over and he turned around, handing me my Oculus back. My response was lost in my hanging chasm of a mouth. I just silently took my talisman back and remained silent.

Everyone else was as shocked as I was, so nobody moved a muscle.

‘Hello, Rya. I believe we almost met at your brother’s Burning,’ he said, eyes flickering with humour. It started me out of my stupor. The situation was growing more and more unlikely. A Hopeful was talking to me. Directly! For all to see.

‘Yes, we almost did,’ I said, trying to sound grateful. Instead, the words came out creepy, like they almost always did. I hoped it would at least freak the other kids out, but I need not have worried. They had all gone, leaving me and my stalker alone.

Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 26 May 2011 21:23:00 +0000

So I got one of those lovely blog awards from Blogger Exraordinnaire, L. Carroll!

For those of you who still don’t follow her blog, YOU SHOULD: http://bit.ly/k5nzPm She’s lovely. You can find her on Twitter too @lormandela. And finally, you MUST check out her book: http://amzn.to/iTJwb2 (Lor Mandela: Destruction of Twins). Because I said so.

Now, on to business. The rules are as follows:

1. Thank and link to the person who nominated you. CHECK.
2. Share seven random facts about yourself. LOOK DOWN.

3. Pass the award along to 15 deserving blogg buddies. FIFTEEN? *stares*
4. Contact those buddies to congratulate them. WILL DO!

7 Random Facts About Me:

* I have a frivolous finger that won’t bend backwards. Sigh.

* I get so excited after reading a good book that I feel the compulsion to write the author and gush about their gift of language, only to realize later that I’ve made at least ten typos in my excitement, and have forgotten all about the existence of paragraphs. Double sigh.

* I lose stuff. No, really. I lose my keys at least five times a day. If you give me something to keep for you, don’t bother. It will be gone the next day. I forget a lot too. So I have to mentally check a list of things I need before I get out of the house, and when I still forget something, I have to go back and get it.

* I am actually a member of the Universal Lottery Losers Anonymous, or else called ULLA, pronounced Ul-LHAAA! Obviously, when we do it, we tone down the enthusiasm.

* I cry when watching movies. A lot. The ones which ALWAYS start the waterworks are: Forrest Gump, Finding Nemo, The Notebook, The Lion King, & Million Dollar Baby. Of course, I know what will happen if I played them, but I do it anyway.

* I rate every movie I watch and store it into folders, a well-oiled system. It’s basically a folder-into-folder-into-folder kind of thing. And that’s the ONLY anal-retentive thing on my laptop, everything else is a complete mess, lol.

* I like self-irony. Doh.

And the WINNERS Are:

Marjorie McAtee (@marjoriemcatee) & Don’t Call Me Marge (http://bit.ly/lO0Tay) She blogs about everything. And she cracks me up!

Jennifer Bennett (@jennie_bennett) & A Book, A Girl, A Journey (http://bit.ly/iriVh0) Truly inspirational posts for writers.

Danielle Zeissig (@execredhead) & A Work In Progress (http://bit.ly/m834I7) My kind of blog! <3

Jody Hedlund (@JodyHedlund): http://bit.ly/lfcnfq Very insightful writing updates.

Brielle B. (@BrielleBookworm) & Awesome Bookworm (http://bit.ly/kvBTTB) If you’re looking for good books, ask Brielle. Plus she’s fun as hell.

Kasie West (@KasieWest) : http://bit.ly/luJy5N Blog full of useful writing tips and fun Monday tidbits.

Lisa Gail Green (@lisagailgreen) & Paranormal Point of View (http://bit.ly/kRMfJt) Fellow Damon-lover. I love her posts. She should get the Versatile Blog Award!

Racquel Henry (@RacquelHenry) & Racquel Writes (http://bit.ly/kwDs2i) A sweet mix of useful and fun!

Rebecca Royce (@rebeccaroyce) & Rebecca’s Random Musings (http://bit.ly/kSHhGh) She puts the sweet in sweetness. Really.

I know, I know. These are only nine. But they are the best nine you’ll ever find!

Ch. 3: The Slime Misfortune

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 23 May 2011 14:22:00 +0000

My hands flailed about in the slime, grabbing onto small rocks and fidgety fish.

‘Haha, you’re such a loser!’

I felt so embarrassed, showcasing my stupidity in front of Kensey and her gang, but the Kensey bitch had gone too far. Throwing my Oculus in the slimy pond next to their hang-out spot by her house was dirty playing. Literally. God only knew how many boys peed in there. Or worse.

And where was Silo when I needed him?

‘You’re such a fish-monger, Rye-Rye.’ I hated that nickname.

Kensey’s roaring laughter could have easily scared the birds. I suddenly wished that she’d annoy them so much they’d take revenge by pecking at her plastic face. I did not understand why she passed as pretty. With her eyes too wide and far apart and her nose hanging over her upper lip, she looked more like an alien than human being. Moreover, Osculists were famous for their small, compact eyes, and their pudgy noses. I wanted to scream at Kensey that she was the freak, not me.

‘Shut up, you –stupid!’ Why could I never come up with a half-decent comeback?

The lack of response worried me. It wasn’t like I was defenceless against the stupid human-sized Barbie dolls with mule faces. I had arms and legs, equipped to… well, walk and grab on things. Surely they could punch and kick as well?

I heard steps oozing through the slime-covered earth closer to my back.

‘I bet if I kick her in, she’ll be more complacent,’ she said. As soon as I felt her breathing in my neck, I instinctively shot upright, pushing her back to fall on her bum. In the slime. Whoops.

Now the laughter was louder than ever, and for the first time, not directed at me.

‘Oh, now you’re dead!’ Kensey’s eyes meant murder.

I prepared myself to fight for it, even though my mind was back in the little pond, where my unfortunate Oculus rested. Stupid reddish rock, why couldn’t it just get out of there on command? Meanwhile, Kensey made her ungraceful return from the slimy ground, and I could tell she smelled like the stuff on her butt. My own face wanted to contort into a grimace of ridicule and triumph. But not just yet. I had to get out of the mess first.

In a flash, she grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back toward the stupid little pond. I braced myself for the slime greeting I’d get for my dumb mouth. Surprisingly, my bottom clashed against solid ground. For a minute, I felt disoriented. Maybe Kensey did not do the math right, so I’d fallen next to the pond instead of in it. But her stricken face revealed a different story.

I looked around to comprehend what had happened. Suddenly, everybody’s faces were on the figure that came from the house. When I saw who it was, my stomach clenched in an all-too-familiar nauseating fashion.

Book of Will Says...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 18 May 2011 20:52:00 +0000

Donum Concaves: The home of the Fledglings where they are taught to find, extract, and polish precious stones, making them into Oculi for the children of higher descent.

Fledgling: Osculist child of lower descent. Fledgelings do not grow to become apprentices of Wise Ones or Hopefuls, and their Oculi never actually activate.

Hopeful: One of two types of members of the Olden circle. The other one is Wise One. Hopefuls acquire their status, while Wise Ones inherit it. In Osculum, Hopefuls are perceived as the the ‘lesser sages’.

Medley: A genetic mixture of two tribes. There are three tribes in total: Somnium, Osculum, and Virum. The Osculum tribe had been the middle-man between Somnists and Virists for many years before it was almost obliterated by its fellow tribes.

Ch. 2: Grim Future

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 18 May 2011 20:48:00 +0000

‘Don’t pretend you enjoyed it, I saw your face out there!’

Silo was almost running through the forest now, his gangly legs deftly jumping over fallen logs and piles of leaves, while I had a hard time keeping up. His long dark hair danced behind him in a pony tail, painting wavy patterns in the frozen air.

‘Slow down. And no, it wasn’t the best time I ever had…’ I had to stop talking because a sticking branch caught me mid-step and made me trip. My face was the first to feel the impact with the earth.

‘Ugh,’ Silo said, turning and helping me up on my feet. ‘Will you stop doing that?’

‘I’m not smashing my face on the ground on purpose, you know,’ I grumbled.

‘Well, you do it often enough to make me doubt that.’

I tried to shake off the dirt like a dog, which only made my baggy clothes fly up my nose and flop around my skinny frame. Silo couldn’t resist a throaty laugh. As soon as I was finished making myself look even stupider than usual, he turned his back on me, and rushed off to his destination yet again. I could only follow, silently sulking inside.

‘What’s that you said, Rya? He was following you?’ Silo yelled loud enough for me to hear through the rushing wind around my ears.

‘Yes, he was following me, and no, I am not making it up.’

I heard the hint of a grunt ahead of me.

‘Well, don’t you think that Hopefuls have better things to do than follow… well, nobodys?’

‘Haha,’ I said. ‘I don’t think you get the concept of stalking,’ I said. ‘See, stalkers usually have hidden agendas. Not that your tiny…’

‘Hey!’ Silo said, halting mid-run to turn around and point his index finger at me. ‘Do not include the word tiny and me in the same sentence.’

I laughed drily. The joke would have been good if he hadn’t told it a hundred times already.

The faster we ran, the stronger I felt the bubbling of fire inside of me. It made me feel nauseous. Before I could stop for a breather, a fly smashed right into my face. I rubbed it off quickly before it dried off like a tiny corpse on my cheek. A few seconds later, a bush came out of nowhere and scratched my newly-attained scar. It took all the strength I had to keep from screaming and thus revealing myself to Silo. Even my best friend would not sympathize with a Medley. I shuddered at the sound of that word in my head.

‘Come on!’ I heard him scream far ahead of me. Where the tall trees ended and the cliffs began, there was a large groove that lead into the largest crate I ever saw. Silo and I enjoyed running, or I should say that Silo enjoyed the running part, while I preferred walking there. The Lens Cleft opened up a view of dead serenity over a family of cliffs and hollows, which promised to be our home one day.

This was the fate of the Fledgeling: faceless, nameless, one of many who would never see the world beyond the Donum Concaves, and who could only make a small difference, if any, in the world of Osculum. My heart sank deep within my chest, full of disappointment and regret. Silo, on the other hand, was beaming down at the dark hole called 'our future'. His family never did expect any more of him.

Sadly, neither did mine of me.

‘Come on, let’s go back. Mother’s making poultice,’ I said.

Silo made a disgusted face. He was just about to add a similarly charming comment when he turned to look at me.

‘Is that bird crap on your face?’

I groaned in earnest.

Book of Will says...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 14 May 2011 18:39:00 +0000

Burning is an age-related ritual of initiation to maturity. There are five Burning rituals in total, which take place at ages 9, 12, 15, 18, and 21. They are designed to anchor children to reality as they grow to learn important life-lessons. Burning of Innocence is the first step to maturity, and it is when the child is given their Oculus (see below).

Oculus: A talisman charged with one or multiple dreams. It activates if one is chosen to become the apprentice of a member of the Olden circle.

Olden circle: A group of Elders who attend Burning rituals and give their blessings to the children. There are two groups of Elders: Wise Ones and Hopefuls. Only Wise Ones have access to the Book of Will.

Sing-alongs: Twelve beldams singing in high pitch.

Ch. 1: Trick’s Day

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 14 May 2011 18:35:00 +0000

I saw him watching me across the crowd. My hands were clenched together as I walked, anxiously putting one foot ahead of the other in a sequence of missteps. The closer I got to the fire, the harder it was to hear people talk, the crackling was so loud. I heard something crack under my foot but I didn’t stop to look. He was too close now.

I mentally cursed my parents for making me attend Trick’s first Burning. While my stupid brother basked in the youngest-child glory, I had to settle for rebellion. But these are just labels. In fire, there are none.

A loud noise exploded on my left, which made me awkwardly tilt and lose my balance. The ground smelled like cinder and soil. As soon as I hit it, I heard someone laugh. Somehow, my audience always found me.

‘You okay?’ a red-hair with strain all over her face asked. She looked like a Moreen but she had the nose of a Misha.

‘Yeah, sorry.’ I said and hurried to walk away before the nameless girl responded.

The brightness of the event always unnerved me. Normally, I’d be nowhere near the flashy-clothed Olden circle or the dreaded screeches of the sing-alongs. I sighed, wishing I was on the edge of the cleft, playing word games with my best friend, Silo.

I could sense my new stalker watch the back of my neck because it crawled like crazy. I might as well have had ants camp on there.

‘Rya!’

I jumped. My mother was standing a few feet from me, staring me down with her trouble-face. I quickly focused back on my brother taking his first step into maturation. Of course, it would be long before he was in any way mature. Some people never mature anyway, so why the pretence?

Meanwhile, the fire grew hotter and my skin crawled with the build-up of a bad allergy. I scratched my arm and sure enough, a large peel of skin came off. I tugged on my sleeve as fast as I could. My stalker was standing close enough to see and far enough to miss my blunder. I panicked and scoured the ground. The skin was gone, just like the other times. I buried my face in my long hair to hide my embarrassment. Why did I have to be such a freak-show?

When I looked back at Trick, he was already handed the green Oculus, which shone as bright as the fire did. My own green eyes teared up when I saw the proud look on our parents’ faces. Five years ago, my own Burning ritual had gone unnoticed by the majority of people gathered for his.

My brother. The saint.

Here we go!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 14 May 2011 18:27:00 +0000

So, here’s how this will go. I will post a ‘flash chapter’ of no more than 500 words twice a week, the first one coming shortly after this post. I will make sure to post Rya’s details soon as well, but I need to build her up a little first.

Following almost every chapter there will be a post explaining the terms presented. I don’t want you to get lost or confused. The post will be called ‘Book of Will says...’. The Book of Will itself is a special entity in the story that will have its due mention eventually.

Also, I would like to thank my blog’s new followers: Kimberly Krey, Thomas Amo, L. Carroll, Sara, J.C. Martin, Alison, Donna K. Weaver, Megan Conway, and Tiffany King. I really appreciate it, you guys!

OK, let the story begin...

MEET RYA!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 10 May 2011 22:25:00 +0000

(Supermodel Skye Stracke, is she cute or what!)

Name: Rya Fleen Age: 14
Tribe: Osculum Rank: fledgling Blood: Medley
Brother: Trick Fleen Mother: Moyra Fleen Father: Luca Fleen
Best friend: Silo Shrinn Mortal enemy: Kensey Trusk

Welcome to Rya's story!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 07 May 2011 18:10:00 +0000

I am a writer, so I should be used to characters materializing, asking for favours (like giving them blue eyes or making them witty) by now. Normally, I look forward to hearing (and relaying) their stories as best I could, but when Rya asked, I was swamped!

It was around Christmas and I had a thousand other projects lined up -not to mention life decisions- so I told myself I'd sit this one out until it was the 'right time' to do it. Obviously, there's no such thing... See, I always know if something's going to be small or big, so I got intimidated by the number of 'big things' I was working on at once. But this doesn't mean that Rya has to suffer for my bad time-keeping.

My solution? I'm going to release her story out there in cyberspace. To be read by whomever stumbles upon it and hopefully, decides to stay with it. So I hereby make a contract with myself to see this through, and update every week, one scene at a time, until Rya's story's finally told. As it should be. :)

Thanks for reading! (Hint: think fantasy.) First scene to be posted on May 14.