So I did. I wrote three thousand words yesterday morning, in a total of just less than three hours (I meant to write more, but fate conspired against me and included travel in my schedule for the day). I'm feeling rather good about my NaNo this year, and I'm sure to hit 50k within the next two or three days, if yesterday was any example. Moral for the story? Writing for reward works wonders (just so long as the reward is something you really enjoy) for your word count.
My last update, I promised an excerpt, and an excerpt you shall get.
Rementhis found himself cut off from what he was about to say as four men entered the warehouse with a loud smash. Fear immediately began to swell within Vaelen's heart. Whoever these people were, they were fairly obviously not of the Legion's numbers, and judging from their entrance, they most certainly meant some harm. Stepping forward from the mob of men was the one Vaelen least wanted to see at the moment.
Eremith strode confidently into the middle of the warehouse, in between student and teacher.
“Ah, you are a difficult young man to find... Jamis. If I was a little bit less wise, that would have probably passed as a rather ingenious disguise, back in the dungeon,” he said, startlingly cordial. “But it was a folly worthy of note to underestimate me. So tell me, what is this here, I wonder? This is definitely not within the bounds of the rules I set for citizens of the city, else there would be little need for secrecy.”
He walked nearer to Vaelen, a snide expression on his now cowl-less face. Vaelen instinctively retreated back.
“Now, now, there is no need to be afraid of me. I merely wish to be a friend to my subjects,” he said. Vaelen knew better than to believe him, set against the backdrop of Annalia's history with him. “I just want to know what you two are doing in such a droll place with blades in hand. Is it a duel of some sort, or something decidedly less... fun?”
Rementhis rushed forward to keep Eremith away from Vaelen, but was intercepted by one of the entourage Eremith brought with him. “I'm afraid I cannot let you do that,” the man whispered to him.
Hearing the commotion behind him, the crazed inventor turned to face Rementhis. “What's the matter, my dear sir? I am simply having a conversation with this young man. Surely there is nothing worth being up in arms over? Or is there some sort of sinister plot in the works against me? Tell me now and I may spare the both of you traitors.”
“I'll tell you nothing!” Rementhis spat at Eremith. “Punish me and let my student go. I put him up to everything he did at the dungeon.”
Vaelen gasped. He wanted to say something, but fear stopped his voice long before he was able to make his protests known.
“Oh, but why punish you? How many more are there of you that you are so eager to protect them?”
“There are none, other than myself,” Rementhis said, still struggling against the henchman's grasp to no avail.
Eremith seemed to think a moment, halting in his movement toward Rementhis. “Very well then. You will be punished, then. I'm sure you know the consequences for being charged with high treason and aiding in escape from imprisonment,” he said, now walking more quickly to face Rementhis. He unsheathed his blade as he stopped in front of him.
Vaelen again rebelled against his fear with no chance of overcoming it, he struggled against his own legs to begin moving, to run and save Rementhis, to do anything. Instead, he was paralyzed, stuck where he was, watching.
“But, I do so like the sound of saying it. For your crimes, you are punished to death, effective...” he plunged the blade into Rementhis' abdomen, “immediately.”
With a swift yank of his arm, he again pulled his sword free. Rementhis fell to his knees, and clutched at his bleeding stomach. Vaelen finally found his courage and rushed at Eremith's exposed back, sword raised and poised to strike his enemy down. Anger swelled through his mind; he was not about to lose another close friend to this insane villain. With a shout, he closed in on Eremith and brought his blade slashing downward.
He was met by a forceful blast in the gut that knocked him back. The magic flames seared into the young boy's flesh and carried him back into the wall behind him. The air rushed from his lungs and pain assaulted him from all sides. Vaelen struggled to stand but found that he could not, his legs either unable to support his weight, or unwilling to. Either way, he fell back to the ground and he did not feel like trying again. Everything was starting to come apart at the seams, and it was his fault. Eventually the pain became too much for him and he fell unconscious, all the while looking at Rementhis as he himself struggled for life. He had lived through tremendous odds before, Vaelen knew, but all he could do was hope that he would again do so. The last thing Vaelen was able to see was Eremith cackling loudly and retreating back through the opening out into the domicile.
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P.S.: I actually forgot to title this one. WHEEEE.
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P.S.: I actually forgot to title this one. WHEEEE.
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