I'll Take the Lashes

A short story set in the Berstru Tales universe. Inspired by:

I'll Take the Lashes

            “Well, Captain, seems we’ve caught ye at last. All that runnin’ ye did for nothing.” The pirate captain smiled like a shark in a school of fish, sunshine glinting off gold in his smile and the sharp blade of his saber. “And now ye’ll make me an’ my crew rich as the Deep-Keeper with his hoards of sunken treasure.”

            Makatala Lea’li glared, kneeling on the rough deck, her black braids falling past her bandana into her face. She’d evaded this man— Black Montego, he called himself— and his crew for months now. Months! And now she and her crew were caught, thanks to an hour’s inattention. A rueful glance around showed the cost all too clearly: the Windrunner’s mainmast broken in two, her forecastle a shattered wreck. Half Makatala’s crew dead or wounded; all of them captives on Montego’s vessel. Serpent’s currents! If I’d been more careful—

            “Nothin’ to say?” Montego asked mockingly. “Ye had plenty earlier. Right colorful too.” He leaned in closer. “Hope ye find yer tongue again later. Ye and I are goin’ to have a chat ‘bout what yer islands are hidin’.”

            Like I would—! No. She’d correct him on that point later. Now, she had more important things to consider. “Let my crew go. Keep me, but let them go. You don’t need them.” She had to force the last word out. “Please.”

            “Tryin’ to be noble, are ye?” Montego laughed. “I’ll be keepin’ a few a’ them for leverage later. The rest . . . As ye say, I don’t need them. I was thinkin’ a’ just tossin’ ‘em off the side for the sharks. But . . .” His smile widened without becoming less cruel. “I’ll give ye a deal, Captain. Pick one a’ yer men to take a floggin’. Every lash he takes ‘fore he cries mercy, I’ll spare one a’ yer crew. Let ‘em go back to yer ship and sail off, even.”

            “Son of a sea snake!” Makatala spat. “The Keeper of the Deeps makes better bargains than that.” Then again, what more could she expect from a pirate?

            “Some a’ yer men’ll get their chance with him soon enough.” Montego shrugged. “Take the deal or leave it. Yer choice.”

            Makatala clenched her fists. “Fine. I’ll take the lashes.”

            He laughed. Laughed! “Ye will, and take enough to kill yerself before ye can make me rich. Try again, Captain. I need ye in one piece.”

            Makatala hesitated, glancing over her crew. It’s our best chance. But who was left who could take a flogging? If that traitor Spayne were still on her crew— but even if he were, he’d back out before he took a single lash. Who was loyal enough to take it, then? Enele or Tamoto would. The two of her brothers who sailed with her were as dedicated to the crew as she— but Enele had been run through by Montego himself earlier, and Tamoto wasn’t much better off. And the rest of her crew? Wounded and battle-wearied, the lot. Plenty loyal enough, but how many strong enough to do any good?

           

“Make yer choice, Captain.” Montego’s voice drew Makatala’s attention back to him. “I won’t wait ‘round bloodied water ‘til sunset.”

Makatala gave him a poisonous look. But before she could speak, another voice called out from among her crew. “A man freed for every lash, you said?”    

She didn’t have to look to identify the speaker— but she did anyway. The Berstruer, Jaku, had pushed his way to the front of the crowd of captive crewmen and faced Montego, steady and unwavering as a mountain. He appeared mostly unwounded— small wonder; with that massive sword he wielded, most enemies couldn’t get close enough to touch him while he brought down one pirate after another. And Berstruer though he was, he was nearly as tall and strong as the largest of Makatala’s many brothers. If anyone among the captives could survive enough of a flogging to save most of the crew, he could. And yet . . .

“You swear it, Montego?” Jaku went on. “They’ll return to the ship, unharmed, and be free to go?”

Serpent’s twisting currents, what are you doing, Jaku? He was no islander like most of those above the Windrunner. He wasn’t even part of her crew; he was only aboard her ship because she’d taken him captive— though she’d freed him from confinement within a day, realizing that he wasn’t an enemy, that he was fighting the Li’o Val just as she was. And now he would take a flogging for her men? What was he thinking? She opened her mouth to tell him to stop— but couldn’t. He’s our best chance, fool though he is . . .

“As ye say.” Montego grinned. “Are ye offerin’, boy?”

“Swear it.” Jaku crossed his arms. “Unharmed, no pursuit, one lash for every member of Windrunner’s crew. Swear on your ship and your honor as a captain. Then— yes, I’ll do it.”

Montego’s brows drew together beneath his black hat. “Strong oaths ye’re askin’ for there, boy.”

He was right. No sailor or captain on all the endless seas would dare break them, not even a pirate with no other honor. Stories circulated in smoky taverns about what befell those who did— strange storms full of green lightning; whirlpools that appeared suddenly to swallow ship and crew.

“I don’t intend to be whipped only for you to turn around and throw everyone off the side,” Jaku replied. “Swear it and I’ll take every stroke you give me.”

Montego snorted. “Fine. I swear, by ship and captain’s honor, to release one a’ the Windrunner’s crew for every lash ye take, ‘til ye call for mercy. I’ll not harm ‘em, nor pursue ‘em. This I swear.” He sheathed his sword. “Now, let’s get on with it. Bring ‘im!”

Two of Montego’s crew approached Jaku, but he stripped off his shirt and walked forward willingly. As he passed Makatala, he nodded to her. “Captain.”

Makatala shook her head. “You’re no island’s son, Jaku. You don’t have to do this.”

“With due respect, Captain, yes I do,” he replied, and moved on.

Makatala watched as Montego’s men tied Jaku’s wrists to the mast so his arms stretched above his head, while one other fetched a long whip from a bag beneath the steersman’s post. This he handed to a man who Makatala presumed to be Montego’s first mate.

And then it began.

The whip snaked through the air and struck Jaku’s back with a snap. A streak of red blossomed where it hit. Jaku sucked in a breath with a hiss of pain. Montego smiled and called out, “One!”

A pirate escorted one of the captives back to the Windrunner as the whip fell again, then again, then again. Makatala wanted to look away from the site, but couldn’t. She owed that much to Jaku. And, too, the scene held her gaze even as it horrified her.

Jaku never cried out, that was the worst of it. Other than those sharp intakes of breath, he never made a sound at all, even as the captain cried “Twelve!” and the first mate swung the whip with particular force. He clenched his fists; his face screwed up with pain; he jerked with each strike— but he remained nearly silent as the whip cracked and red ribbons of blood trickled down his back and dripped onto the wooden deck, where they joined other, older stains.

On the fifteenth lash, Jaku at last let out a deep moan of pain. Montego held up a hand, and the mate paused. “Had enough, boy?”

Jaku shuddered and tried to pull himself up straighter. “No.” He shook his head, wincing. “Keep on.”

Montego shrugged; lowered his hand. “Yer funeral.”

The whip fell again. There seemed to be more blood than skin on Jaku’s back now. He clung to the rigging to which he was tied as if it were his only lifeline in a storm. Still, he did not cry out— but small noises that somehow conveyed more pain than any scream escaped him every few minutes.

Another three strokes and Montego again stopped his mate. “Enough yet?”

Jaku hesitated, glanced towards the few remaining crewmembers, then shook his head once more. “Keep on.” The words came out in a gasp. “Keep on.”

You’re mad. Makatala clenched her fists, still staring. She should stop this; order Jaku to give up. How much longer could he hold on? But she couldn’t; she couldn’t give that command, not if she wanted the rest of her crew freed. She couldn’t doom her crew to save one man, no matter how much her conscience protested. Deep-Keeper take you, Montego, for forcing me into this choice!

The whip fell one last time, and the final captive climbed back aboard the Windrunner. Makatala slumped in relief. They’d be safe, even if she wasn’t. Jaku dangled from his ropes, slumped, head hanging forward, shuddering with each shallow breath.

Montego scowled, a hand on his saber. “Now ye did it. Cut ‘im down.”

“Wait,” Jaku mumbled, his voice barely audible. “Wait. Two more.”

Montego snorted. “What’s wrong with ye? Ye freed yer mates. Now I want ye off my ship.”

“Two more,” Jake repeated, words slurred from pain. “One for me. One for the captain.”

“Not happenin’,” Montego snapped. “Ye— I’ll let ye go without the lash, serpent’s son. Get back to yer ship before ye do me any more damage. But yer captain stays here.”

“You swore,” Jaku’s hands tightened on the rigging. “You swore. One lash to release one of Windrunner’s crew, until the one being lashed gives up. Captain Lea’li’s part of the crew. And I’m not giving up.”

Montego drew his saber, looking like he wanted to run Jaku through. “You can’t—”

“You. Swore. On your ship and your honor.” Jaku twisted to look directly at Montego. “You know what happens if you break that vow.”

Montego glared, then abruptly sheathed his saber. “Captain’s worth more than a crewman. Five lashes, and if you make one sound, it stops.”

“Done.” Jaku gritted his teeth, obviously bracing himself. The whip fell again: once, twice, thrice. Jaku shook, his face pale, eyes shut. Fourth lash; he jerked but didn’t make a sound. The fifth stroke fell, and he at last went limp, silent save for his shaky breaths.

Montego muttered several curses. “Release ‘em both, and toss their weapons back after ‘em. I won’t have any trace of their blasted madness on this ship!”

The men holding Makatala released her. She dashed forward to catch Jaku as another sailor cut him free. Jaku nearly fell to the deck before Makatala pushed under his shoulder to support him. “That,” she hissed in his ear, “was the most reckless, terrible foolishness anyone on my ship has ever committed. I might have to let you join my crew now.”

“Had to do it,” Jaku mumbled, stumbling along as she dragged him towards the Windrunner. “Your brothers couldn’t. Crew couldn’t. No one could. But someone had to. So I did. Couldn’t leave you all in a pirate’s hands . . . I’ve seen what they do . . .”

Makatala guided him across the gangplank. “I would’ve managed.” Behind them, two of Montego’s pirates bundled up the Windrunner crew’s weapons and tossed them onto the Windrunner.

“’Course. But someone has to look out for sisters . . . Couldn’t’ve faced mine again if I let you down . . .” Jaku sagged, but gave her a delirious half-grin. “’Sides . . . I think I’d do anything for you, capt’n. Anything you asked. I . . .” He slumped and collapsed to the deck, slipping out of Makatala’s support.

Makatala knelt anxiously— but no, he wasn’t dead. Just unconscious. It was a miracle he’d held on this long. “Naea! Ala’i! Get this man to my quarters and tend his wounds. The rest of you, get to work. We’ve got our freedom, thanks to Jaku. Let’s not waste it.”

 

The Plantser's Guide to Worldbuilding

Hey’a, everyone! A while ago, someone asked me to post about my worldbuilding process. I originally wanted to do a full-on how-to post, which is why it took me so long, but eventually I came to the conclusion that I can get the information across just as easily and a lot more concisely in a list post- which is what we’re doing today!

A bit of a disclaimer before we get started: I am neither an expert on the topic nor am I a hardcore planner. If you want advice from someone who fits that description, Jill Williamson has a fabulous series over on Go Teen Writers and a legit published book with tips on basically every aspect of creating a unique fantasy world, both of which I’ve read and highly recommend. However, I do have a method that works really well for me as a pantser/plantser. And if you are a fellow non-planner or you just want a technique that’ll let you do some planning without getting overwhelmed or bogged down in all the details, then hopefully my tips will help.

The Plantser’s Guide to Worldbuilding

1. When you’re getting ready to write your novel, focus on what’s necessary. This is the key to my method. If you don’t remember anything about it, remember this: if something probably won’t significantly affect your story, don’t worry about it. Focus on what you know will affect your plot and you don’t get bogged down in planning every little detail, you don’t become overwhelmed, and you don’t have to search through pages and pages of notes trying to find the information you need. Granted, you won’t know very much about other areas of the story, but that’s fine. For example, when I created Udarean for The Way of the Pen, I focused most of my worldbuilding on the Authors and the Order of the Pen- in other words, the world’s religion. On the other hand, when I planned the world of Blood in the Snow, I focused a lot on the Bloodgifts, the ruling families of the two main empires, and the political interactions among different countries. I still know relatively little about the governments of Udarean or the religions of the Blood in the Snow world, but that’s ok, because those things don’t significantly affect my main characters or my plot. When I need to know them, or if I get a brilliant idea sometime, I’ll sort them out; until then, I don’t need to stress about not knowing.
2. Know your storyline before you start worldbuilding. I’m not saying you have to have every scene planned out in excruciating detail, but you need to know something. I, personally, make a bulleted list of Significant Events and general plot movements that I think might happen. This plan helps me figure out what aspects of worldbuilding I need to focus on, which, as I already said, is vital to my method.
3. Come up with a world concept. Or, in other worlds, know how to answer the question “Where is your world similar to?” For example, the world concept for Blood in the Snow is “fantasy almost-Asia.” Most epic fantasy novels have “Medieval Europe, but with X” as their world concept; for steampunk it’s usually “Victorian England, but with X.” You can also have a world concept that’s a mix of several places and times: Udarean blends Greece and Japan, and Aralan has elements of medieval, Victorian, and modern England and Germany. The world concept is useful as a jumping-off point for brainstorming culture, food, architecture, and so on, for research, for picturing your world, and, of course, for naming characters. That said, you do have to be careful to make sure that your world doesn’t become completely identical to the country or countries you’re using for your concept, because at that point you’re basically writing historical fantasy and might as well just go all the way and make it truly historical. (Edit: As one of my readers pointed out in comments, when using this method, you do have to be careful about cultural appropriation. Respectful inspiration is good. Stealing from a culture is bad. If you need to do research to make sure you're dong the former and not the latter, do the research and don't be lazy.)
4. Know your important places. So I said earlier to just plan what’s necessary, which means that worldbuilding can look different for every book . . . But that doesn’t mean there aren’t patterns. There are certain things that I plan for almost every story I write (or else wish I had planned!), and they mostly have to do with place. A short list of locations you might want to think about:
   • Country names. At the very least, know the name of the country your character came from, but it can be helpful to know what the surrounding countries as well. Knowing a few distinctive features about the culture or geography about each country is good too. For example, there are eight countries or regions in Berstru, and although I’ve only really developed about half of them, I know a little something about each one. (Pemew, for instance, is characterized by swamps; Arahad used to be a major center of culture but isn’t anymore; and so on.)
   • Capitals/Major Cities. This one’s only really necessary in your character’s home country and any country they’re likely to travel to. Again, know the name and one or two especially distinctive things about the city. No need for more.
   • Major Land/Water Formations if your character is likely to encounter or reference them. You don’t need to know every river in the country. You don’t need to know every mountain on the continent. That said, if there’s a major mountain range or river or something somewhere, try to have an idea what it’s called and where it is. This is doubly true if the place is somehow magical or especially culturally significant.
   • Maps are actually super handy, if you feel like making them. They don’t have to be terribly detailed (most of mine are super sketchy, just rough outlines really), but they can help you sort out where countries are in relation to each other, where the cities are, mountain ranges and rivers, and so on. If you’re going to be working with a particular world long-term (e.g., over the course of multiple books), it can be helpful to make one.
5. Build and adjust as you go. Sometimes, you discover that some element of your worldbuilding needs to be changed to improve the story’s plot, and unless that element is a major plot point in previous books, that’s fine. Change it, make the adjustments needed, and keep going. Sometimes you need to actually write about the world in order to really know what it’s like, and that’s fine too. Sometimes you come up with an insight about your world or a country or culture or region or something in your world after you’ve finished your story, or when you’re midway through the series, and that’s fine too. Jot down the idea, make the necessary changes, and keep going. In a lot of ways, your world is another character in your story. You can put details down on paper, but there’s always something you don’t know, always something you can discover, always a new way for it to develop. If you keep that in mind, world-creation goes a lot better.

What do you think? What methods do you use for worldbuilding? What advice would you give on the topic? Do you think that the world is a character? Please tell me in the comments!
Thanks for reading!
 -Sarah (Leilani Sunblade)

Beautiful People February 2017: Couples

Hosted by Paper Fury

Hello! Look what's back! Yes, I know, I haven't done a Beautiful People post in ages- in my defense, I was kind of busy the last few months, plus I didn't really have a project I could do one on. But I loved doing the couples questions last year, and I'm excited to do it again now. I'll be doing it interview-style, as usual, and I'll be focusing on Jared and Bianca. Also, I'm interviewing them as they are at the last edited portion of their story, rather than at the furthest point I've written- if I focused on that time, their answers would be very different indeed.

1. How and why did you meet?
Bianca: Jared was the latest in my brother's line of friends, mentors, and miscellaneous acquaintances whom he invited to dinner in hopes that one of them could talk me into officially joining the Circle like the rest of my family. Like the others, he failed. Unlike the others, he proved somewhat interesting, since he didn't treat me as a recruitment project.

2. What were your first impressions of each other?
Jared: Eh, I thought she was pretty, but an ice princess like no other girl I've met.

Bianca: I- correctly- judged Jared to be a rogue, a scoundrel, and a flirt. Thankfully, he proved to have some redeeming qualities.

3. How would you prove your love for each other?
Jared: . . . *eyes narrow* Define 'prove your love.'

Storm it, Jared. We're not asking for commitment. Just how you show that you care more about Bianca than some random girl off the street.
Jared: Fair enough. I'd say letting her come with me would qualify. I mean, she's pretty and good company, but generally, I travel alone, with no one to question if I know where I'm going.

Bianca: The fact that you also promised to see me safely through Arrain doesn't also indicate any . . . concern?

Jared: The fact that I promised, yes. The content of the promise, no. You're the one who keeps insisting I'm a better person than I admit, princess. And no half-decent fellow would lead city folk into Arrain without making sure they at least got somewhere safe.

Bianca: Interesting. For my part- I would say that my giving Jared the benefit of the doubt as to his character is proof enough of my commitment- and yes, I will say commitment, Jared, don't give me that look. As is the fact that I trust him enough to be led into Arrain.  

4. What would be an ideal date?
Bianca: A nice dinner at one of Port Metre's better restaurants would be pleasant, followed by either a walk along the shore or a concert at Port Metre's opera house. We would end the evening, of course, with a game of chess.

Jared: Some social event, not too formal, with plenty of good drinks and the lady willing to give a few kisses and not ask for more. That said, the last few nights- riding across Arrain with the stars coming out- haven't been unpleasant.

5. Is there something you emphatically disagree on?
Jared: The nature of this relationship, for one thing.

Bianca: Also, the relative merits of the Circle.

Jared: By which she means that she's against it on principle, while I don't care- it's easy money, but I don't like people telling me how to live my life.

Bianca: Essentially, yes. Acceptable levels of risk would be another difference, though Jared's choices seem to have paid off so far.

Jared: Look, princess, part of gambling well is recognizing risks worth taking. I know what I'm doing.

6. List 5 “food quirks” you know about each other. (Ex: how the other one takes their coffee, if they’re allergic to something, etc….and feel free to mention other non-food quirks!)
Jared: Food quirks? Who came up with these questions? Anyway, how would I know that?

Bianca: You have eaten with me on multiple occasions.

Jared: And on half those occasions so far, we've been eating trail food or else what I happened to catch because it ran across our path and I was quick enough to throw a knife. So I know you don't like watching me skin a rabbit, but aside from that, I have no clue. And I don't think you do either.

Bianca: Oh? You dislike shrimp- we had them twice when you came to dinner, and you failed to even try them on either occasion. You drink your coffee black, and refer to tea as "leaf-water for people who are too weak to handle coffee." You prefer wine to beer or ale and whiskey to wine. You undersalt rabbit when you cook it- or it seemed to me that you did so the other night. And you apparently have a great appreciation for any pastry including nuts.

Jared: What the-

Bianca: I notice things.

Jared: Obviously . . . Also, don't think I missed your insult, princess. That rabbit was perfectly seasoned and you know it.

7. What’s one thing you know about each other that no one else does?
Bianca: I cannot speak to who else knows or doesn't know this, but Jared has very strong feelings about Arrain and its merits- which surprised me at first, but having seen what he is like in Arrain as opposed to elsewhere, I am unsurprised. One would not expect a region known for its lawlessness to bring out the best in a man, but there you have it.

Jared: I think you're reading too much into everything, princess.

Bianca: Perhaps. Or perhaps that is merely what you wish me to think.

Jared: Think what you want, princess. Doesn't matter to me. Anyway, guess I should answer the question too . . . I know that Bianca's not always as in-control as she'd like people to think. That count?

8. What’s one thing that you keep a secret from each other?
Jared: I feel like this question misses the point of secrets.

That would be the case, except for the fact that I'm going to ensure whoever isn't talking doesn't hear the secret. *snaps fingers* There. Who wants to go first?
Bianca: I suppose I will. Jared said that he knows I am not always as in-control as I wish people to think. He is not wrong . . . but I do not think he knows how genuinely terrified I am, particularly since we entered Arrain. He promised to keep me safe, true- but though I say I trust him, I have heard too many stories to not fear. But I find it better to fear for my physical safety in Arrain than to fear being forced into the Circle as I have ever since Mother died.

Thank you, Bianca. Jared, your turn. 
Jared: *jumps* The lady of logic done already? And she can't hear me? All right then. Things I keep secret from her . . . plenty of stuff. The fact that I didn't leave the Circle altogether- that I'm still working with them to a degree. The fact that I don't have half the "hidden depths" she seems to think I do- though that's less something I'm keeping secret and more something I let herself keep thinking. But the biggest secret . . . eh. Probably the fact that, somewhere along the way, I ended up caring what she thinks.

9. Fascinating. *snaps fingers again* Back to normal- How would your lives be different without each other?
Jared: I wouldn't be in the middle of a mess with the Circle, for one thing. And I'd be off enjoying myself with cards, dice, and a drink in whatever town caught my fancy instead of traveling through Arrain while I escort the lady of logic to Elgea.

Bianca: The fact that I am with you doesn't seem to have stopped you from enjoying cards, dice, or drink, Jared. As for myself- if I had not met Jared, I would still be at home in Port Metre, carrying out the life of a proper, well-educated lady- with continued study of tactics in my free time- rather than gallivanting across the worst possible region of Berstru with a gambler-adventurer.

Jared: And can you tell me you regret it, princess?

Bianca: I regret whatever I did to make you give me that nickname. Other than that . . . no, I don't regret the choice I made. Not in the least.

10. Where do you each see this relationship going?
Jared: To Hoaka. After that, we'll see. The lady of logic can keep following me around if she wants, or she can find someone to take her further north, where the Circle has less influence.

Bianca: I cannot say for sure . . . but I hope that what I have found in Jared here in Arrain will not recede again when we leave the country. If that hope proves true, well, I will hope further that I will indeed be able to continue to travel with him . . . and perhaps do more than that.

Thank you both for your cooperation. I'll let you get back to your journey now- and I'll see you as soon as I get to another of your chapters. Until then, enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts.
Bianca: I'm not so certain I like the sound of that . . .

Jared: Eh. It'll be fine. There's nothing in Arrain I can't handle, princess. Wait and see.

Sure, Jared. We'll wait and see. In the meantime: thanks to everyone reading this for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed this interview!
-Sarah (Leilani Sunblade)   

Beautiful People: Childhood Edition

http://paperfury.com

So I'm cutting it a bit close with this post, yes. But it's still June, and anyway, like Gandalf, this post isn't late- it arrived exactly when I meant it to. (Mostly.) LOTR references aside, this month's questions focus on the character's childhood, which should be fun. I'll be answering with Emma Alyron, and, like last month, we'll be doing this proper interview style.

(Emma: A-are you s-sure about th-this? M-maybe you sh-should ask G-Gwen or s-someone e-else instead.
  
Me: Yes, I'm sure. I told you earlier: all you have to do is answer the questions.

Emma: I d-don't know . . .

Me: You'll be fine. Velone, back me up. 

Emma: *after some nudging from Velone, a purple, kitten-sized dragon sitting on Emma's shoulder* W-well . . . a-all r-right. I g-guess I can t-try to answer . . .)  

1. What is your first childhood memory?
Emma: Um . . . I r-remember Mama s-singing to me. She w-was a-always singing, or h-humming, or s-something. And I'd t-try to s-sing with her s-sometimes . . . but m-mostly I just l-listened.


2. What was your best and worst childhood experiences?
Emma: . . . C-Can I p-please answer a d-different question?

3. Fine. We'll come back to that one. What was your childhood home like?
Emma: D-do you m-mean Alyron Village? O-or my h-house?

Whichever you prefer to tell us about. 
Emma: I d-don't r-really want to t-talk about the V-Village . . . but I l-liked our c-cottage . . . it looked m-mostly like the other cottages, b-but Mama had l-lots of flowers p-planted outside instead of j-just f-food plants. A-and she k-kept white c-curtains on the w-windows, a-and a l-loom and sh-shelves full of yarn and f-fabric in the f-front room. I think we h-had the p-prettiest cottage in the V-Village. 

4. What’s something that scared you as a child?
Emma: *whispering* L-l-lots of th-th-things sc-scared me . . . m-most of th-th-them s-still d-do.
*Velone gives Emma an intent look and seems to be silently saying something which makes Emma perk up a little* 

5. Who did you look up to most?
Emma: Mama and Gwen.

6. Favorite and least favorite childhood foods?  
Emma: My f-favorite food was- s-still is- fresh berries and cream. L-least f-favorite . . . I d-don't know. I r-remember that I w-wouldn't eat rabbit for a w-while, but I d-didn't n-not like it . . . I j-just felt sorry f-for the b-bunnies.

7. If you had your childhood again, would you change anything?
Emma: Y-yes . . .


*waits*

Emma: Wh-what?

Are you going to elaborate? 

Emma: I-I . . . I g-guess I'd j-just try to b-be b-braver . . . or s-something l-like th-that . . .
  
8. What kind of child were you? Curious? Wild? Quiet? Devious?
Emma: I w-was quiet. O-obedient. Sc-scared of e-everything, l-like I s-said . . .  I l-liked st-staying inside a-and w-working with Mama a-and s-singing. N-Nightshade c-called me d-dull as a d-dishrag. I th-think she m-might've been r-right, b-but . . . I l-liked w-what I did .  .

9. What was your relationship to your parents and siblings like?
Emma: *halfhearted smile* W-which o-ones? I h-had l-lots . . . I loved Mama. Loved her m-more than anyone. I d-didn't s-see much of F-Father . . . I d-don't think he r-really n-noticed me, I was so q-quiet. And I w-was in awe of G-Gwen and Jake and Dea . . . and s-scared of N-Nightshade and J-Jared . . . Th-there w-were a f-few siblings I l-liked, but n-not many . . . only the ones who were q-quiet l-like m-me.

10. What did you want to be when they grew up, and what did you actually become?
Emma: I d-don't know w-what I wanted to be . . . but I kn-know w-who I w-wanted to b-be: Mama. Or m-maybe G-Gwen. I'm n-not either of th-them . . . I'm s-still just me . . . b-but I'm n-not r-really grown up yet ei-either.


Great. Now, remember, we still have one question left: best and worst childhood experiences.

Emma: Oh-h-h . . . D-do I h-have to a-answer?

I'd like it if you did. You can at least do the best experience, right?

Emma: W-well . . . I l-liked l-lessons with Mama, when she taught me t-to s-sew and kn-knit and c-crochet and a-all th-those k-kinds of things . . . And w-when I made my first sk-skirt a-all by m-myself.


See, that wasn't so hard. What about the second half of the question? Do you think you can answer that?

Emma: I g-guess . . . *looks down and whispers* The w-worst experience of m-my ch-childhood . . . I g-guess when m-my ch-childhood sort of e-ended . . . w-when Mama d-d- *chokes out the word, trying not to cry* Died.
*Velone nuzzles Emma's cheek comfortingly, humming to her, and glares at me for upsetting his Emma*

Aaaand that's where the questions end. I think I shall back slowly away from the angry dragon now . . . Thanks, Emma, for answering, and thanks to everyone else for reading. I hope you enjoyed that!
-Sarah (Leilani Sunblade) 

Beautiful People: March 2016 Edition

http://paperfury.com

It's time for another round of Beautiful People! For those who don't know: Beautiful People is a monthly meme hosted by Cait of Paper Fury and Skye of Further Up and Further In. This month, apparently, there's no theme- just ten questions for your character. I'll be answering for Deanna "Dea" Alyron, a major character in my Berstru Tales series. 

1. What first inspired this character? Is there a person/actor you based them off?
Dea, like many of the characters in this particular series, had her origins in the Battle! roleplay on the Underground. Unlike those other characters, however, she never actually made it onto the thread until after she was created in the novel. Her original conception was as a mercenary sort, highly skilled, and relatively ambivalent towards the rest of her family. The highly skilled part remained true as her character evolved to what I put down on paper. The rest of her . . . not so much. Dea's unbendingly loyal, and more attached to the rest of her family than any of the major Alyron siblings, with the possible exception of Jake.

2. Describe their daily routine.
Hahaha. Dea hasn't had a solid daily routine for a fair while now- not since she left home. Adventures aren't exactly conductive to that sort of thing. But before she left, she'd get up, make breakfast for herself and her younger siblings, then spend most of the morning doing various chores. Afternoons contained any remaining chores, plus an hour or so of practice with her swords, and making dinner. And then evenings were solidly family time- plus she'd have breaks when she could earlier throughout the day to do stuff with her younger siblings.

3. If they joined your local high school, what clique would they fit into?
I don't go to a public school, so all my knowledge of high school cliques comes from books. But my guess? Dea could fit with the athletic group if she wanted to- she'd definitely be into sports (probably of the track and field variety, unless whatever high school she went to offered fencing). And she might be able to fit into one or two other cliques as well. But she'd get sick of trying to meet people's expectations pretty fast (particularly because everyone would be wondering which of her sisters she was going to be more like), so instead she'd say "Whatever," go find the least popular kids in the entire school, and befriend them.

4. Write a list of things they merely tolerate. Ex: certain people, foods, circumstances in their lives…

• Being compared to either Gwen or Nightshade
• People who don't like or just don't know what to do with kids (though that depends slightly- if she sees you're trying, she'll have a great deal more patience with you than she otherwise would)
• Jared Alyron
• Fish/seafood (though that might just be a somewhat petty reaction against the fact that Gwen loves it . . .)

5. How do they react in awkward silences?
With unnerving patience.

6. Can they swim? If so, how did they learn? 
Dea cannot swim. But if she ever needs to learn . . . well, she's a fast learner.

7. What is one major event that helped shape who they are?
The first time Nightshade showed signs of off-the deep end tendencies would be a fairly big one, though it didn't effect her immediately. After that, her family started looking at her as if they were scared she'd turn out the same, and she decided pretty soon afterwards that, storm it all, she wasn't going to be Nightshade and she wasn't going to be Gwen either, no matter what anyone expected of her.

8. What things do they value most in life?
Dea values family above just about anything else. People in general would be a big thing too- especially the forgotten and outcast, and especially especially kids. She places a pretty high value on her moral code as well, since it's part of what she feels separates her from Nightshade.

9. Do they believe in giving other people second chances? Do they have any trust issues?
Second chances? That depends on the person and whether or not she thinks they're going to try to do better on their second chance. She doesn't really have trust issues, though- she decides fairly quickly whether or not to trust someone and she sticks with that unless she's proven wrong.

10. Your character is having a rough day…what things do they do to make them happy again? Is there anyone they talk/interact with to get in a better mood?
It varies with the reason for the rough day. Usually, her solution to being upset or feeling down or such is to spend time with her younger siblings, just doing whatever they want to do, whether that's playing a game or making cookies or telling stories or whatever else. On the other hand, if her rough day is because said younger siblings are driving her nuts (which is kind of hard to do- small children are about the only people with whom Dea has endless patience), she's probably going to be more inclined to just shut herself in her room, bury her head under a pillow, and try to take a nap.

I hope you enjoyed hearing about Dea as much as I enjoyed writing about her. Thanks for reading, and thanks to Cait and Skye for hosting this!
-Sarah (Leilani Sunblade) 

Flash Fiction Challenge: Black Letter

Hey'a, all! I'm very excited to be participating in the Flash Fiction Challenge hosted over at The Ink Loft! In these challenges, each participant gives another participant a prompt, from which they then write stories of 1000 words or less. My prompt, given to me by Athelas Hale, is:

"But even professional assassins have hearts and mothers."

As I said to Athelas when she gave it to me, I'm very happy to have received this prompt, since I can now use it as an excuse to write a bit of backstory for Aleta, an assassin from my Berstru Tales series. (Not that I don't have a lot of her backstory already figured out . . . just none of it's on paper before now and I don't know how much of it will be.) Admittedly, the actual story turned out a little differently than I expected (more sad; less action), but I'm still relatively happy with it.

Anyway. I hope you all enjoy!
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    The letter was black- black as death, made blacker still by the name marked out in bone-white ink.

            In most cases, that would have been unsurprising. Nobles had a tendency to use funereal colors when contacting assassins- as if inviting them not to attend a funeral, but to cause one. By now, after five years’ intense training and another three years on her own, Aleta was used to receiving such correspondence. 

            What worried her about this particular letter was where she’d found it: her private box, used only for personal correspondence. No offers of contracts- either through the Guild or directly from nobles- should have been there. And the handwriting on the letter . . . she knew it too well. But she had never thought to see it on black.

            Bells from outside caught her attention. She listened, counting. Eight chimes. Half an hour remaining before she needed to slip out of her hiding spot- one of several around the city maintained by the Assassins’ Guild- and carry out her current contract.

            Returning her attention to more immediate matters, Aleta slit the top of the envelope and tapped out the letter with routine caution. Her teacher had explained thoroughly the numerous ways that death could be delivered in the guise of a letter. Yet despite her care, she knew already that it would contain none of those potential poisons.

            She read the letter- stark white bordered in black- with as much care as she would a potential contract. The words- things like “regret to inform you that-” “recently deceased after-” “funeral will be held on-” seemed oddly distant. Unreal. As if they were part of a dream.

            Then she reached the final paragraph and all the distance was sucked away. Phrases like “claims it was an accident, but I wonder-” and “always seemed to be bruised these last months-” and “maybe murder, but I can’t prove it.” And then, finally, “I considered hiring you or one of your associates, ‘Leta, to avenge her anyway, but he is Father.”

            Aleta set the letter down and walked across the room to the small window. It looked down on a busy Elgea street, allowing her to see without being seen. But today, though she watched, she did not notice the people going by. Again and again she turned the words of the letter over in her mind, and she reached towards her knives almost without realizing.

            She was an assassin. She could kill him. He deserved it, the-

            No. She was an assassin. She did not kill wantonly. And she did not kill for personal reasons. For a contract, or- on occasion- to protect. Nothing more. And perhaps this would be justice, would be protecting people. But it would be vengeance first.

            No. She would not kill him. And she could not attend the funeral openly; she would not be welcome there. But she would go, pay her respects all the same.

            Silently, she retrieved the letter and slid it into her pocket. Then she clambered out the window into the evening shadows and let herself disappear.

~~~

            The funeral was well-attended. Whether it was so out of respect for the deceased or curiosity over the death, none could say. The priest, the deceased’s husband, and the other friends and family members made the requisite speeches and produced the expected tears- or, in some cases, lack thereof. If anyone noticed that the second son of the deceased regarded his father with veiled hostility, they did not comment on it. Nor did any seem to notice the figure outside, clad in assassins’ black, who watched and listened with her head bowed and defiant tears in her eyes. They did not notice her shadow them to the graveyard; did not see her as she lingered in the nearby trees ‘til the coffin was buried and all others were gone.

            But the next morning, the second son returned to the gravesite to find a rosebush growing atop it, blood-red buds already appearing on the stems. And he knew what it meant, while all his family wondered how it had come there.

            For even assassins have mothers. And even an assassin’s heart can be broken.

------

 -Sarah (Leilani Sunblade)