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Nano Novel Thread
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Nano Novel Thread
Nano Novel Thread
This is the place to post your Nano novel or parts of it- if you want too.
Mine :
Chakirarl drew her sword and wove a shining web of steel,
disarming the trembling man easily. She leaned over him, her crisp, October-sky
eyes shining with anger. “ Never cross the Masked Prince. “ She snatched the
precious dagger of quality silver from his grasp and pockmarked his cheek. “
Next time, you die, “ she added, spinning. She leapt onto her horse and
galloped away.
Humming to herself
quietly, she urged her stallion, Luneka, back towards the makeshift camp hidden
in amongst the pile of boulders. Tieing
up her horse, Chakirarl leapt to the ground and hurried into a sagging tent
hidden behind a tall boulder. Despite the tent’s straggly looks, it was the
Masked Prince’s tent. She was about to push the filthy linen aside when the
Masked Prince’s voice drifted thru the barrier, saying , “ She’s the only cook we
got “ wafted through the particaly open curtains. Chakirarl froze. She was the
only girl in camp, and she knew the only reasons they let her stay was because
she could cook edible meals and also fight.
“ We could give you
the other one . . . she can cook . “
“ Can she fight ? “ The Masked Prince asked.
“ You can teach her. “
“ How many are them
willin’ to pay? “
“ Five Thousand ter. “
“ Allright. “
“ Dawn, tomorrow ? “
There was a
rustling noise as a tanned hand reached to part the curtain. Chakirarl quickly tiptoed
over to her horse and began rubbing her down with a scrap of cloth. The Masked
Prince stepped out, glanced at the sun, and yawned.
“ Time to eat, I think. The mist is burning. “
~
And, a different expert :
~
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Chakirarl
woke slowly. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. She sat up, yawned, and
noticed where she was.
She was in a carriage. It was cobalt with
gold edging and velvet seats. She pounded on the door of the carriage, confused
and annoyed. A lean man peeked in.
“ You’re awake. Good. “
“
Who are you ? Where am I ? Why do you care if I’m awa- “
“ Slow down ! “
Chakirarl whipped out her sword. “ Tell
me. NOW. “
“ Ok. First of all, you’re a princess. “
Chakirarl frowned. “ What ? “
“ You’re a pri- “
“ I heard. I want you to EXPLAIN , “
Chakirarl sighed.
“ Nearly a decade ago, the Queen
gave birth to two babies. “
“ And . . . “ Chakirarl prompted.
“ Be patient ! One was born only a few
seconds before the first. It was hard to tell which. The spare was sent to learn
to be a baroness. She was lost on the trip and disappeared. All that is known
about her is her hair is a few shades darker than the other princess’s, and
that at the time she wore a golden brooch in the shape of a mykar. Now, the
heir was tested. She is not the one. “
“ The test is just ceremony; it never
determines anything ! Somebody was behind it ! “ Chakirarl exclaimed, having a
hunch upon what was coming.
“ No. “ The courier shook his head. “
It’s real. The princess is told to hold the septer of the first queen, Avlyen
Sapir Ladi, and if it for her to hold, the sapphire on the top glows and turns
purple. If not, it gives her a huge shock. The strangest thing happened when
the princess, Esemerka, held it. It didn’t glow, but it didn’t shock her. “
“ It’s broken. “
He shrugged. “ Maybe. Eiether way, we need
the true princess, soon. The commoners are starting to riot. Someone stirred them up. We need a princess .
“
Nervous, Chakirarl snapped, “ How does
this even relate to me ? “
“ You’re her. “
Chakirarl gasped, even though she had
been half expecting it. “ No. “ She shut her eyes hard. It couldn’t be true. “
Please don’t be true, “ She whispered.
The courier tapped the gold pin which
held her tattered crimson cape together. Chakirarl glanced down. The brooch was
golden, a filthy gold stained with sweat and some sort of ancient mud. “ What
about it ? “
The courier pulled out a hankercheif. He
reached over and rubbed it clean, scrubbing away the muck to reveal the truth.
The brooch shone like the sun. It was brilliant gold in the shape of a leaping,
half-twisted mykar. The mykar’s eyes were sapphire, and the mykar had a small
shard of ebony for each claw. The fangs were ivory, with a drop of ruby blood
hanging off one of the fangs.
“ Oh my gosh, “ Chakirarl gasped,
recognizing the twisting, leaping mykar as the symbol of royalty.
The courier nodded. “ If that isn’t proof
enough, there’s the hair, just a few shades off from the princess’s. “
Chakirarl touched her archer’s braid, which was a beautiful honey shade. “ Alright, it’s true, “ Chakirarl said with a
heavy, fake sigh. It may be true, but I’m
no Queen.
~✧✧~
“ GO !!! “ The king ( she’d vowed never to
call him father again ) roared. “ You have failed me ! All the years- all those
years – WORTHLESS ! “
Esmerka’s perfect pink lips curled back in
a sad, broken smile, and a single tear dribbled out of the corner of her
eye. “ If you throw me away like a
broken thing, I was never your daughter, or your heir, only your toy. “ She
turned and hauled herself onto the stallion, then rode away, after the young
messenger. The mist closed behind them, shrouding the broken father, angry
king, in a white mantle.
Esmerka didn’t say a word to the messenger.
There wasn’t anything to say. He was a loyal servant to the King. But the
messenger surprised her. “ Lord Kevith Sable wants you to know he will be
having me deliver messages to you. “
Esmerka nodded, amazed at Kevith’s thoroughness. “ Thank him for me. But despite his
precautions, let’s go to the Farkin instead. “
~
What do you think ?
submitted by Indigo
(November 4, 2014 - 9:24 pm)
(November 4, 2014 - 9:24 pm)
I wanna read more!
(November 4, 2014 - 10:04 pm)
so how come this went to the back pages???? what????? ok, if this gets to the top page, please post more, Indigo!!
(November 7, 2014 - 10:00 am)
To the top to the top to the top to the top...
(November 7, 2014 - 8:03 pm)
Glad you liked ! It topped, so I will post more :
~✧✧~
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Chakirarl perched on the top of the
carriage, staring into the sunset, which opened before her like a fresh winter
bloom. Crimson the color of blood stained the sky. The dieing rays of the sun
turned the mist a golden hue. Shades of cream sank into the sharp, thin
black peaks of the Cut. The silver moon hung by a thread like a fingernail
clipping. Stars dotted the skies, and the faint outline of ebony black night
showing just behind. She touched the brooch, then the sword, and then she
stared into the sunset. “What was my mother like?“ she asked the courier.
“She was beautiful, with ebony hair- much
bluer, unlike yours, and crisp blue eyes, like yours. Your hair is much blacker
than hers, but she looks a good deal like you. She had smooth, flawless skin,
and the most charming sm- “
“ Yes, but what was she like ? Did she like
the color orange ? Was she kind ? “ Chakirarl prodded.
“ Oh, she was kind. She loved horses, and
she loved you very, very much. She had the brooch made for you, for you to
remember her by when you were training to be a baroness. She said that you were so much truer than the
heir, braver and more of a person. “
“ What’s the other girl like ? “
“ Lofty, a bit spoiled, but elegant and
reserved. “
“ I hope I don’t meet her, “ Chakirarl
muttered, leaping off the top of the carriage. Digging around inside the
carriage, she pulled out her sleeping mat. She shook it flat and laid down for
a good night’s sleep.
“ Good night, “ the courier said,
searching around for his own sleeping mat.
“ Night, “ she yawned.
Chapter 3
“ Augh, “ Esmerka sighed. Her rump felt
stiff and sore, and dust was blowing everywhere despite the mist, sticking to
her disgustingly sweaty skin. She felt like a commoner, stinky and much needing
a bath. “ Are there any clean, fresh streams up ahead ? “ she rasped, without
much hope. Even so, when the messenger shook his head, she sighed. She glanced up, glimpsing a tinge of sunset
above the dust. “ Shouldn’t we be bedding for the night ? “
The messenger shrugged. “ Alright. “ He
dismounted in a single leap. Esmerka gracelessly fell to the ground, stirring
up even more dust and nearly twisting an ankle. Her face a mask of dust, she
pulled the saddlebag off her horse. She pulled out her sleeping mat and sat on it. Then, she
pulled out her leather water pouch and bear meat jerky, hardtack, and a few
dried berries. Esmerka wrinkled her nose
at the jerky, carefuly soaking then in little handfuls of water so they would
soften. She tried to eat some hardtack, but it was so old it nearly broke a
tooth. Finally, she nibbled on softened jerky and dried berries.
Lying back on her mat, Esmerka used the
rest of her water to wash the dust off her face, arms, and legs. Watching this
waste of water, the messenger sighed quietly. He’d barely drunk a sip of his water,
and he knew he had barely enough to tide himself across the trip, let alone
Esmerka, even if she did give up trying to wash off the dust. Oh man, this is not going well.
~✧✧~
Chakirarl leaned against the cushions, deep
in thought. They would want her to look trim for the arrival at the Capitatal,
she knew. Wash her tunic, maybe, clean the mud off her boots, and brush her
hair. Stopping to wash would be a good opportunity to escape. They would
arrive at the Capital soon, in five or six days if she was lucky. Were there any places they could stop so she
could wash her things- and run away? Chakirarl jumped up suddenly and leaned out
the window of the carriage.
“ Courier
person ! “ she called. He turned. “ Yes ? “
“ Are there any lakes of rivers along the
way ? “
“ Yes . The Akrun River, for one, and the
Dayle Pond. “
“ Let’s stop at the Dayle Pond. “
“ Yes, Princess. “
Chakirarl leaned back in. She fiddled
around in her saddlebag anxiously. Pulling out her map, she deduced they were
to reach the capital by way of the Journyr. The long road came through the
Black Cut, across the Akrun River, past the Dayle Pond, and, finally, reached
the Capital. Hmm . . . . after stopping Dayle Pond, she could run away into the
small forest, then return across the Akrun River by way of the Farken Path,
then rejoin the Journyr and return to the Masked Princ- Wait. He didn’t want
her ! Oh man, what was she gonna do ?
She
saw the courier turn around, so she quickly stuffed the map back into her
saddle bag and began pulling out food. She nibbled on dried berries, bits of
hardtack, some mushy cheese, as well as some leftovers from the feast.
Pertending to have only just noticed the courier, she held up a slightly
charred turkey leg . “ Care for some breakfast ? “
“ No thanks, “ he replied, turning away
again.
Chakirarl took one last sip of water and
put the food away. She drew her sword and began polishing it busily with the
same scrap of cloth she had rubbed down her horse with the day before. She
glanced out the window. There was Luneka, galloping along with the courier’s
horse. Resolving to visit Luneka later that day, she returned to rubbing down
her sword.
(November 7, 2014 - 9:10 pm)
This looks cool! I'll post a little bit of my chapter one ;)
Gwen Blackwell tapped her foot impatiently on the side of the curb in front of Stonebrook Middle School and slumped against the black lamp post. Mercedes, cadillacs and tons upon tons of other countless cars sped by, making strands of her puffy red hair fly in front of her face. Frustrated, she tried blowing the strands away from her face. No matter how hard she blew or even fixed it with her fingers, the hair always found its way back. She decided to just leave the hair be and instead whistled a tune to keep her mind occupied. Halfway through she forgot the rest, thinking she saw a maroon color flash by in the street. She sighed when she realized it was not, in fact, a particular maroon minivan.
It had been over twenty minutes at least that she had waited besides the curb. It might not seem like much when talked aloud, but for Gwen, standing near the sidewalk was an eternity. Sometimes, time went by fast before you knew it, and others were painfully slow. This, unfortunately, was one of those times.
“I’ll be at the front of the school near the big lamp post on the curb after you finish up classes at three,” Her dad, Mr. Blackwell had said. He added, winking, “Then you’ll finally see what I’ve been working on for all these months.”
Hope this works since I just copied and pasted this from my google docs.
(November 9, 2014 - 11:07 am)
I watch him go, wondering who he thinks he is to tell me who I am or what I think. He doesn’t understand. No one does. No one will. The guardians made sure of that.
Despite myself, I feel tears well up in my eyes. I tell myself that it is the gravel road, that there’s a breeze and I’m getting dirt in my eyes. That I really don’t care.
I don’t really care.
So I laugh. I start laughing, and I don’t stop until Al is so far away that if I put my fingers up to my face, he’s less than an inch tall, and I could squash him with my pointer finger and thumb. There wouldn’t much more than a crunch, similar to the one when you take a bite of cereal. I take off the helmet that Al gave me and throw it off the path. It hits a tree and falls to the ground, lifeless. I laugh some more. Tears are streaming down my face from laughing—I realize the mascara I applied this morning is probably horribly streaked down my face. I also realize that I don’t care. I take the tube of mascara out of my pocket and press the brush on my cheek, moving it up and down. Ignore the stench—I feel like a warrior applying war paint before I go into battle. My crazy, screaming laughs echoing in the rural landscape. It makes me feel powerful.
The turquoise bike is still lying in the road where I left it. The way the handle bars are positioned makes it look like an act of a twisted freak show. I start to giggle, and find myself in a full on laugh again. I pick up the bike, howling with laughter. I get back on it, start to pedal, but wobble so much that the bike tips and I fall off. I start laughing again.
(November 9, 2014 - 4:35 pm)
What is the title of your book ?
(November 10, 2014 - 11:24 am)
Right now I'm calling it The Perfect One. I've wanted to change the title to Rocketship, but that is entirely misleading, and The Perfect One works perfectly fine.
(November 10, 2014 - 6:01 pm)
OK, now I want to hear more about both Indigo and Moss's novels, but here's a piece of mine real quick.
A quick
series of turns set her in front of a round hatch just big enough to crawl
through if you were desperate. She slung her pack over her shoulders and dove
into the small opening, latching it shut behind her. It was pitch black, but
she squirmed down the tunnel without a doubt in her mind, mostly because she
had made that gone that very route so many times before. Abruptly, the tunnel
branched, and there was the sound of rushing water all around. She would be
under the lake now, just off the shore. The tunnel got a bit wider, and
suddenly there was a bluish light shining down into her face.
Here the walls were made
entirely of glass, affording a breathtaking glimpse at… water, and…water, and…a
swan’s plumed bottom suddenly popped into view. It ducked its head at her once,
before paddling off in the distance. She kept moving, inching along just under
the coast of the lake. The tunnel wound around and around, a never-ending loop
on the perimeter of the water. The tunnel floor dipped, and Eclipse was soon
surrounded by golden grains of sand and a few small rocks. It continued its
descent downwards, farther and farther until the walls became brass again, and
there was a fork ahead. The left side twisted downwards farther and farther,
while the right turn slanted almost vertically upwards into pitch-blackness.
Eclipse chose right, searching for a hold to pull herself up the treacherous
slant. She had only inched up a few feet when she hit her head abruptly on a hard,
rough surface obstructing the tunnel.
She fumbled about for a few
moments in the small space, before flipping onto her back so that her face was
angled towards the ceiling. Twisting about into a variety of pretzel and
bow-like shapes, she dug a small silver key out of the heel of her leather
boot. She bent her elbow close to backwards, and felt around for the key hole
that she knew was hidden somewhere on the door in front of her. She found it by
slicing her thumb pad neatly in half on the rust-sharpened edges of the key
hole, so that hot blood dripped down the front of her dress. Sucking the blood from her cut, she unlocked
the little door and emerged into a sun dappled evergreen forest.
(November 10, 2014 - 3:36 pm)
Love it! What is your username? Mine is Sunnysideup.
(November 21, 2014 - 4:45 pm)