Weekly #1

Part 1
210 words

With her legs swung over the side of a gnarled tree branch, the girl smiled softly, lit up by the eerie moonlight, a silvery glow lighting up her pale face. Her dark hair framed her face and she seemed almost like a ghost, her legs swinging back and forth, her eyes glinting. The surrounding cliffs were bruised with heather and the moonlight kissed the rugged landscape, while ferocious waves battered the shore mercilessly. She closed her eyes gently swaying to the sound of the sea, relishing in its peace.

A distant shout echoed from the distance and her brow furrowed. Faded silhouettes could be seen far away, racing towards the docks, stumbling and tripping as they went. One turned towards her direction in a desperate plea for help, sadness brimming at the edge of their eyes. She could tell they were crying from even such a distance. She could feel grief radiating off their very being. Guards crunched their way through the mud, their armour clicking and creaking as they made their way for the fleeing people.
Alice hauled herself down from the colossal tree, her face now hardened with compassion and sorrow. She was going to find them. She was going to help them. She was going to win.

Daily 3: Aging Kingdom (Every 10 Years)
word count - 513 words

In vines entangled and prophecies untold lay the baren wastes of land unfold. Time will tell, this building tall, how one slight timber, shall cause the fall. Through doomsday die and past again, we rise above and reclaim the game. Shadows we lurk, deep within, hiding secrets and stories to simpler wither ‘til dim.

These were words etched across the statue, the one, the chosen one. As if guarding a secret, something so dire, it stood in the sun, basking all the light. Through the scorns of time it lay unscathed, although vines have started to grow surrounding its base. The Temple of Secrets, was one man knew not of. Although it was often told in stories and legends from time to time, no one has ever been able to bare witness its elegance in all serenity. The dynasty that one ruled in this area, left nothing but a poor village lined with luminating lanterns. The summers were harsh, but the winters were brutal – survival seemed almost impossible.

Now, 10 years later, I came into the picture. A princess, fallen out of the sky some might say… to me, it was only the starting of betrayal. With wounds deep and lasting scars, I knew what had to be done. Sent by my people from the Sky Kingdom above, this was our chance to set things right and right the wrongs once and for all. Yes, life seems like a fantasy to me - I would rather be flying high in the sky, but yet, here I am, working away to “make ends meet”. At least, that’s what they told me. Our kingdom ahs everything, wealth, gold, you name it. And yet, here amongst the greenery of this kingdom, lay a secret that could change their fate. Knowing this made the journey harder, treking up the mountain, the palace in clear few, a sense of guilt kept clouding my judgment.

- - -

In vines entangles and prophecies untold, lay a sparkling brook as stories unfold. It was the end, but it felt like much more than what it was meant to be. Celestiality truly had been sought and I had made my way into something more - a greater purpose, a chance for living and a cause worth dying for. I was ready to become a new person, one of legends that seemed almost impossible. Change was inevitable, and I was ready to risk it all for the people that sacrified for my people and I. It goes untold though my story still lives, and today that statue tall is filled with pride and bless. Time has gone by, yet here I am, last breath and eyes closing. I lived more more and I conquered the world. Internal happiness is an unreachable dream, though somehow, in this life, with all odds in my favor, I was able to rise. Rise above them all and fight for a change - a war not fought alone, but in a tribe of many.

Reaching above the world for a better tomorrow.

(is it too early to be posting writing comp first drafts? yes, maybe it is.)

Skylar's Writing Comp Entry First Draft(!!)
(working title - Climbing The Ladder)

words - 2,075
words that count towards my writing goal, because i copied and pasted lyrics of new romantics - 2,046

“Good afternoon Sunshine Bay, and welcome to the Sports Hour on Radio Sunshine Bay. My name is Lilah DeCann, and with us today is our very own champion figure skater, Elyta Skye Zhang!” Elyta could only stare in amazement as the person sitting opposite her, Lilah DeCann, made it look so easy to be on a radio show. “It’s great to have you with us, Elyta!”

Elyta took a deep breath in as she prepared to speak. This was her first time on a radio show. Sure, she’d done interviews before, but they were short, post-competition or pre-competition ones. She never had attention like this before, with so many interview requests her press team wanted her to do. Keeping her voice neutral, Elyta replied, “Thank you. It’s great to be here.”

“Now I’m sure our listeners are dying to hear about your stunning performance at the Winter Olympics recently that landed you your first bronze medal at eighteen,” Lilah said, “but I’m really interested in how you got to where you are today,”

Elyta bit her lip. This was asking for a lot, and she didn’t really like sharing her story with the world. It was too mundane. Too… uninspiring. But she couldn't just deny Lilah her story. Elyta had always dreamed of reaching the Olympics, but she wasn’t prepared for the kind of attention she’d get. She was constantly labelled at ‘Sunshine Bay’s Prodigy Skater’ when she wasn’t even a prodigy.

“Oh, uh… sure,” Elyta replied, annoyed at how hesitant her reply was. This interview was going so badly! “I don’t really like talking about my journey to the Olympics,” she added. “It’s not really interesting or inspiring.”

“I’m sure you’ve got one stand out moment in there. What about your first national competition? That was a little bit of a disaster, wasn’t it?” Lilah asked.

Elyta grimaced. She hated talking about her first national competition; the absolute disaster that it was. She’d crashed and fallen. Her coach, Ashley, had told her it was all down to comp nerves, but Elyta felt differently. Just try to answer honestly and carefully, she remembered from media training class. “Yeah, uh, that…” Elyta began. “It definitely wasn’t my best work, and I still beat myself up over it today.”

“Would you mind explaining what happened, to those who don’t know?” Lilah asked.

Elyta would rather not, but since it was all public information anyway, she couldn’t deny that it ever happened. Personally though, she’d much rather act like it never happened.

***

“And now, for her very first national level competition, Elyta Skye Zhang!” The announcer’s voice echoed all over the ice rink as Elyta skated into the centre of the rink, waving at the gathered crowds.

Assuming her starting position, Elyta took a deep breath. It was her very first time at nationals, and she had to nail this. She’d worked so hard for this, and she couldn’t let this opportunity slide through her fingertips. With the eyes of the entire country on her, the music started and Elyta began.

The music to her routine began, and Elyta began gliding across the ice in a gracefully choreographed dance. A catch-foot spiral, forwards crossovers, and a three turn into a haircutter spin, as the music diminuendo. Count the rotations - one, two, three, four. Releasing her arms from her blade, she went into a scratch spin. Count the rotations - one, two, three, four.

Placing her right foot down on the ice, Elyta pushed out into some backwards crossovers as the music crescendoed. Heading for the centre of the ice, Elyta performed a flawless double salchow, followed by a double toe loop. Holding the landing for three, Elyta placed her blade down.

As the music continued to crescendo, Elyta focused hard as she did some more backwards crossovers, stepped forwards, and performed her star jump of the routine - her double axel. As she held her leg out to land, Elyta felt the blade slip beneath her.

The next thing she felt was her hands and cheek against the cold ice. She’d fallen out of her jump, and an aching pain was present in her hip. She had to finish the routine, but she struggled to get up. The pain in her hip was too great. She didn’t notice as first aiders swarmed the ice, carrying her off on a stretcher. All she could think about was how she failed. How she couldn’t nail the jump, when it had all gone perfectly in practice.

***

Elyta didn’t want to answer - but maybe she could give a vague enough answer to answer the question, without talking about all its unpleasant details.

“It was the short program, and I was out. I couldn’t land my double axel, I slipped and fell. I couldn’t perform my free skate after that. I didn’t even place. I told myself after that competition that I would train harder and do better than before. I’m a perfectionist, and it was frustrating to me that I’d failed at the first hurdle. After that competition, my parents weren’t exactly supportive of me either, but I begged them to let me try again,” Elyta continued, finishing off her story.

“And did they let you continue?” Lilah asked.

“They did. Well, we had a deal. I begged them to let me keep going until next year’s nationals, and if I could podium, they’d let me continue.” Elyta replied. “I worked harder than ever before. I was fourteen and I should have been thinking about my upcoming public exams in a year’s time, but I spent every single waking day of that year at the ice rink, practising. I didn’t do much with my friends. I did an hour every morning before school, and an hour after, and then I’d do three or four hours at a time on Saturdays and Sundays.”

“That is quite the work ethic, Elyta,” Lilah replied.

“It is,” Elyta grinned. “I’m a known perfectionist.”

“It clearly shows. So, what happened at the next nationals?” Lilah asked. “I’m sure the more knowledgeable viewers know, but for those just getting into the sport because of your stunning performance at the olympics recently - well, I’m sure they’d like to know.”

Everything she was about to say was already public information anyway, but Elyta didn’t want to say it. And she couldn’t not answer the question. But maybe, like the last one, she could be short, simple and to the point.

***

It was her second year at nationals, and Elyta was determined to win. She’d been practising hard for the entire year, much to her parent’s disapproval. But here she was, once again, having passed all the qualifying hurdles, at Sunshine Bay Figure Skating Nationals, once again.

“And now, Elyta Skye Zhang!” The announcer’s voice echoed throughout the entire rink as Elyta once again entered the ice at nationals. She could feel the pressure as she turned to look at the audience and the judges. Everyone had seen her failure last year, and she couldn’t fail again. Not now. Not in front of the whole world.

The music began. She began with a pivot, arching her arms above her to the music. Pushing off, she completed a three turn into a sit spin. Count the revolutions - one, two, three, four. Then, she rises up into a haircutter spin - count the revolutions. One, two, three, four. Then, straightening out into a scratch spin. Count the revolutions - one, two, three, four.

Placing her right blade down on the ice, Elyta continued into backwards crossovers. Gaining speed, she pulled her arms in, and jumped. She performed a flawless double salchow, followed by a flawless double toe loop. Landing on her left back outside edge, Elyta held the landing count for three.

Placing her blade down, she stepped from backwards to forwards, three turning into an effortless catch-foot layback spin. Count the revolutions - one, two, three, four. Slowing down, Elyta transitioned into a step sequence, choreographed to fit the music.

After executing that, Elyta began her backwards crossovers once again, gaining speed across the ice. Heading for the centre of the ice, Elyta stepped forwards, and performed a flawless double axel.

Landing on her blade, Elyta held it for three, before placing her other foot down, and spreading her arms out at an angle. Leaning her body closer to the ice, Elyta smiled as she completed the hydroglide, before completing a snowplough with her right foot to stop.

Getting up, Elyta bowed to the judges, grateful for her clean skate.

***

“I won nationals that year.” Elyta answered.

“That’s a pretty amazing comeback you had there, wouldn’t you agree, Elyta?” Lilah asked.

Elyta shrugged. “My leg was only severely bruised. It wasn’t too bad, compared to some of the other injuries other skaters have received before. Everyone was calling my comeback ‘amazing’ and ‘stunning’. I was only off the ice for two weeks.”

“And what happened next? Did you keep winning?” Lilah asked.

“Yes, I kept skating. I always placed first, and then I qualified for the Olympics, which was really exciting.” Elyta replied.

“And so, we get to your stunning Olympic performance last week, performed to Taylor Swift’s New Romantics - your free skate landed you in Olympic Bronze. What do you think about that, in relation to your journey?”

Now this was a skate Elyta was proud of. She’d nailed everything against the pressure of the whole world watching her.

***

“From Sunshine Bay - Elyta Skye Zhang!” The announcer’s voice echoed all across the stadium, and suddenly, it felt real. Elyta had performed to hundreds of people before, but not to his scale. Not to the scale that everyone, in the whole wide world, was watching her every move, her every fall, her every mess-up.

Skating into the centre of the arena, like she had done hundreds of times before, Elyta heard the opening chords to Taylor Swift’s “New Romantics” and started her routine off with a step sequence. Step to the right, step to the left.

Then, a three turn into a sit spin. Count the revolutions - one, two, three, four. She then rose up into a scratch spin. Count the revolutions. One, two, three, four. Backwards crossovers next.

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!

Elyta completed her signature jump combination - a triple salchow, followed by a triple toe loop. Landing on her backwards edge, she felt free as New Romantics kept on playing. For a moment, it didn’t feel like the whole world was watching her.

Smiling, Elyta stepped forwards, launching herself out into a spiral in an arabesque-esque position. Changing her edge, she continued with the spiral until she nearly reached the barrier of the rink. She dropped her foot down, going from a forwards to backwards direction. Back to backwards crossovers to gain speed.

Baby, we’re the new romantics, the best people in life are free.

As the music diminuendoed, Elyta did a flying sit spin - a jump, one revolution, and then a landing into a sit spin. Count the revolutions - one, two, three, four, five, six, seven eight-

It’s so romantic

Rising up into a scratch spin to the beat of the “Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!” Smiling uncontrollably, she counted the revolutions, one, two, three, four. Then out into a glide, waltz jump, and into a hydroglide.

Elyta held it until she heard the start of the second part of the chorus, and then rose up into doing backwards crossovers, with a few interspersed long glides and arm choreography to break it up a little.

Baby, we’re the new romantics
The best people in life are free

Elyta finished her routine with her star triple axel jump, before ending in a drag position.

The crowd around her cheered, and Elyta skated to the edge of the rink to hug her coach, and her parents. It was an exhilarating feeling, and the best performance of her life so far.

***

“It was such a fun experience, really.” Elyta loved talking about this skate. Her friends were going wild over her, and it was crazy. But she didn’t like talking about her journey. “In relation to my journey, I’ve had as many setbacks as anyone else would. I just work really hard for what I want.”

“That could certainly be said, Elyta. Thank you so much for sharing your journey with us,” Lilah finished off the interview. Elyta was just glad it was over.

“It was great to be on,” She answered, even though - in her mind - it really wasn’t. Doing media was annoying.

7/3/24 - 624 Words
“We can't return we can only look behind from where we came and go round and round and round in the circle game”

Tall spires jut from the generally nondescript castle, bold purple flags waving proudly. You can tell from the generally untarnished nature of the stones used to construct the building that it is new. That and the fact that the billowing purple flags have no emblem on them just yet. There are a handful of market stalls down the cobblestone road, their awnings of various different colors. There is a considerable amount of bustle; children running down the street with pocket money clutched in their small hands, parents chasing said children, groups of adolescents meandering around together, people lugging shopping bags and making purchases. If you look closer you could notice a couple looking at jewelry, one of them is watching the other’s expression closely. They will probably sneak back here after the other is asleep to buy whatever trinket caught their fancy as a gift for them. Even the rulers of this new nation are out wandering the road with the common folk. There is no need to worry about harm coming to them when the only people here are the ones that have been here from the start. There are houses behind the stalls, some are shops and some are homes. You could probably find millions of things to look at on this road if you let your eyes wander.

10 years later
Purple flags decorated with crests of laurels and lions wave fiercely in the wind, jutting from the spires of a humongous castle. Bold and exorbitant in every sense of the words. Dozens of brightly colored market stands wind down the cobblestone street that seems to go on forever. So does the sheer amount of people. Everyone, it seems, has come to Commerce Street, which was named a few years ago. A couple, one of them sporting a pretty amethyst ring, walks down the street, holding the hands of a small child who seems to want to run and explore. The rulers of the country aren’t out like they used to be, it’s too dangerous for them. What with all sorts of outsiders visiting Commerce Street on the day to day. The houses behind the market stalls all have more shops on the bottom floor, the owners of the shops take residence on the second story. The signs advertising the shops are almost lost in the sheer din of color. But not to those who decide to look. Commerce Street is so long that it seems unlikely for someone on foot to look at every detail all in one day, perhaps in a week you could. Billions of little things are noticeable if you take a moment to let your eyes wander.

10 years later
Faded purple flags are tattered and torn along with the crumbling stone walls of a once great castle. A spire that used to jut from the castle fell but only seconds ago. The civilians are in an uproar, running and screaming. You can see a tall teenager trying to comfort their parents, the teenager is fidgeting with an amethyst ring they got from one of them. The market stalls that used to line the street have been turned into a barricade, a way to shield the public from the castle that is falling into ruin. Police officers are running through the street, trying to help calm the people. They’re followed by medics and doctors, making sure no one is injured or lost in the rubble.
This all only started last week. Last week when the first monarch fell. Last weekend when the rest toppled. Yesterday when the first bomb came. The once great country, seen as a pillar of commerce and trade, is now gone. The only ones left are the citizens, desperately trying to cobble some semblance of a nation together.

Random Thing I Wrote (1056 words)

The wind blew the leaves across the plains; it was autumn now, the warm colors dotted the landscape, along with carts and wagons commemorating this occasion by decorating their carts with more traditional autumn colors, perhaps a business tactic to attract more customers. Their blankets that were draped across the backs of the more expensive carts were swapped out with their seasonal counterparts. They sleepily glided across the trails and roads, bumping methodically on every small little rock. It was early morning, the carts movements were either gently guided by sleeping hands of tired workers or the more fancy carts were able to move forward without as much guidance. Each cart had a different purpose, some were used just for the transportation of goods from the supplier to the buyer, but some were selling the goods, to those who traveled the same roads, or maybe set up shop temporarily in town, to supply exotic goods to a location that wouldn’t normally get them.
Their trade was mostly respected throughout the land, yet like any other honorable profession they have their own guild to help guide and protect others in the profession and promote the other seasoned merchants. The merchants guild was one of the largest guilds, and its goal was to help create a safe environment for merchants while also keeping the profession profitable.
Takoyaki was one of these traveling merchants, she was among the more skilled merchants, and was in the guild for quite a long time. She was a deer with tan fur, a short bushy tail, and long antlers. Deer weren’t as common to find, especially so far down south. They mostly lived in the mountainous regions up north away from the castle. She however made lots of travels down south for her job, and mostly traded in items that were from up north to the southerners who never traveled up there. She was always excited, and very bubbly, so she was often awake most of the time. Sitting in the front of her cart, she watched the scenery around her. Most others were starting to wake up around this time, as was the world. Birds started to sing their songs, and everything began to feel more alive again, that what it was the previous night. She, however, was the opposite. It was natural for her to sleep during the day, and she felt more awake throughout the night. This contradicted her job however, as the customers were all awake when she wanted to sleep. She decided for today to stay awake throughout the day once again. Not getting any sleep for the day.
Her cart approached the small town closer to the morning, and more citizens were up and about. The town was quite small, and still far away from the main castle, it had no walls to protect it or distinguish areas of the town, yet there were still guards posted about, or just wandering the town. She stopped her cart once she was close enough to the other buildings, but she was far enough away to not really obstruct anything. If she didn’t get any customers that day, perhaps she could sleep instead, although thieves would always be an issue, both in stealing her stuff, and just making her worry all day. The town was relatively nice, the buildings made out of mostly wood, some were made of stone. It seemed to not be as connected to the castle or its politics, as their colors were not of yellow and red, but of nothing in particular. The guardsmen seemed to be of a random group that was cobbled together by the townspeople. Takoyaki could sense that the town was closely linked together, making the possibility of thievery low- She quickly shook her head, trying not to think about stuff such as that so much.
She started to set up her cart more, getting off and out of it, and propping up the stall that was attached to the cart. Setting up her wares and spreading them out for display, propping up a sign that roughly said, ‘Northern Goods, for sale’ and had a little smiley face scribbled next to it. She loved to invest back into her business, so all the little details in her shop were quite expensive. The sign was made of wood, and had the letters engraved into it. Her shop was made of wood as well, from an expert carpenter. Other shops would be a mix of cloth of wooden scraps they’d find from their travels, yet hers was custom made. It was one of the perks of doing the job for so long, many of her friends helped contribute to making her cart what it was.
A little cat approached her cart, Takoyaki was sitting down, messing with a plush that closely resembled a cat, but with a more chocolate theme to its design. She went up to Takoyaki and pointed at the plush, “Plushie!”
She smiled, “It’s pretty cute, isn’t it,” She held it in front of the kitten so she could see it better.
“Can I touch it?” She asked.
“Yeah of course!” She handed her the plush, “It’s very high quality fabric, made by tailors up north,”
“Woahhh,” She held the plush in her paws, “North is like the cold place right?”
“Yep!”
“Did you go there? Was it cold?”
She kneeled down next to the kitten, “It was pretty cold, but I’m pretty used to it, I’m from there,”
“Woah…. So it's full of deer?”
“Not exactly.. Deer aren’t very common, and it’s pretty similar to here actually! All full of small communities that support each other, it’s mainly just colder up there,”
“So you have a queen?” She was sitting down now and playing with the plush.
Takoyaki shook her head, “Not really, we’re just tightly knit small communities, it’s pretty hard to travel quickly up there, much easier to trade down here,”
She blinked, not fully understanding, “Then who does all the castle stuff?”
“There is no castle stuff,”
“Could I have this plushie?” She thrust the plush into Takoyaki’s face, trying to make sure she could see it.
Takoyaki laughed in response, “Sure, you can have it for free,” and patted the kitten on the head.
“Yay! Thank youu,” She ran off with the plushie in her hands.

Daily July 3

The great city of Laglasus was a sight to behold. It was arranged into a triangular shape with three distinct corners, each with its own unique traits. The first corner, known simply as The Entrance, was full of bustling, busy streets covered in banners claiming to know exactly which products needed to be bought for maximum satisfaction. The Entrance had gotten its name from the fact that it was the part of the city visiting foreigners most often entered from. Residents of The Entrance came from many different cultures, so someone there would hear conversations in hundreds of languages and smell delicious food from many cuisines being cooked up by the street vendors. The second corner was known as the Golden Corner, and it was this corner which had given the city its nickname, “The Golden City”. The Golden Corner was full of huge mansions and sprawling estates where the nobles of the city lived. At the center of the corner was King Zoron’s palace in all of its splendor. Visiting nobles and dignitaries would stay in the Golden Corner. This corner was the most people would think of when they thought of the city. The third and final was the Seaside Corner, which was precisely what it sounded like. It was the least populous of the three corners, but the most popular for vacations due to its beautiful beaches. In fact, it had more vacationers than actual residents. The city of Laglasus was prosperous, and its people were some of the happiest in the world.

King Zoron promised the people that the new walls around the city were just for show. It was unclear how many believed him. Less and less people were coming to the city. The king assured his people that everything was going according to plan. Most assumed this meant that everything was normal. But a few noticed how the army training was more focused and intense than ever before. Almost as if they were going to war.

The war had been raging for almost ten years. King Zoron’s quest for world domination was becoming a reality. Everyone knew that’s what it was. No matter how many times the king told his people that the war was a result of tensions between nations, that it had nothing to do with personal gain, his true intentions were as clear as day. And the people were powerless to stop them.

King Zoron’s forces had drawn back. The king’s failing health had left him unable to lead them, and without him as a general, their strategy meant nothing. The other nations saw the opportunity. They pushed back harder than ever on Zoron’s army. The soldiers fought their best, but in the end, Laglasus lost the war. The citizens were secretly relieved. So many had died in a war they had never supported. Now, the attack on the other nations was over, but the city was not at peace. The other nations resented Laglasus for the attack.

The city was still recovering from the war. King Zoron’s failing health had gotten the better of him, and he died. His daughter, Karis, took the throne, and she made peace with the other nations. She was a good queen and led Laglasus to a period of peace and prosperity. The walls around the city were torn down, and more people came to the city than ever. Finally, after fifty years, the people were happy again.

573 words

Daily for 7/3/24
505 words

In the kingdom of Cantiya, everyone was happy. There was nothing not to be happy about, so nobody wasted time being unhappy. Nobody was hungry, or sick. Everyone got to do whatever they wanted. The kingdom was ruled by an elected governor, who was restrained by failsafes to ensure a fair system. A new governor was elected every two years, and someone could be governor for three terms, max.
On the 250th election, everything went as normal, plus the amount of celebrations for the 500th year anniversary of Cantiya. And the amount of people hid the assassination of the new governor until the murderer was too far away to be chased. The runner-up for governor was soon appointed, and things ran smoothly from there.
The newest governor didn’t make people comfortable. There was unease in the streets, and people were no longer as happy as they had once been. Crops were being blighted, and people began to move away with the same enthusiasm they had once held moving here.
It has been ten years since Ros Lyan had been appointed governor, and since then Cantiya had deteriorated rapidly. A few years after his election, he had banned immigration from Cantiya. People who live somewhere because they are forced to don’t complete tasks the same way people live somewhere by choice do. There are whispers that he is an evil wizard or sorcerer. That he killed the governor in the 250th election.
In the twenty years after Ros Lyan’s appointment, several rebellions have tried to take root. But people who have spent their whole life being happy, don’t have the force or conviction to harm other people.
Thirty years after the election. Nearly everyone who has been alive long enough to have known a time before Ros is dead. The next generation is unhappy and ready to kill. A new kingdom has risen and Cantiya is not what it used to be. People steal and scrap. Babies die from hunger. The population decrease from simply dying in a fight for food is enormous.
Ros Lyan had a daughter. People whisper about the mother. The daughter is never seen, so people doubt her existence until her first birthday. Ros calls everyone to the rotting central square and shows them the little girl. Which is, of course, when the little girl is assassinated. Or, at least, she should have been. The bullet is shot straight into her heart, but she continues like nothing happened.
Allie Lyan is eleven when her father dies. Thanks to his ‘amendments’ to the constitution, she is now ruler of Cantiya.
Ten years after Ros Lyan’s death, Allie disappears in time to not die when a nuclear gas is released in the center of the city. No one stood a chance, and the entire kingdom was wiped out.
Ten years later, nearly everyone has forgotten Cantiya even existed. Explorers visit the ruins and die later from radiation. Soon, the city is abandoned altogether and is nothing more than a legend told to young children

weekly part 1 - 303 words (half completed)

isabella stood, ghost-white hair blowing in the salty sea breeze as she traced a wrinkled finger over the craggy rocks surrounding the beach. she sighed, curling her bare toes in the sand, watching the waves crash against the shore and willing the sound into her memory, trying to remember every single detail of the stretch of sand that had become her favorite place in the world.

isabella knew that this would likely be her last visit to this beach - and that thought scared her more than she cared to admit. she pasted on a happy face, telling her family (especially her estranged daughter lilith, who seemed surprisingly torn up about the news that isabella had only a month to live) that they had nothing to worry about and that she would always be with them, no matter what. but honestly? she didn’t believe that, not one bit. she had no idea what was waiting for her in death, but she was determined to make sure that she visited all of her favorite places one more time before she passed, hence her visit to this particular beach.

she had always noticed that this place always seemed brighter and happier when she was around: the leaves of the palm trees to shine a brighter green, the sands sparkled with sea glass, and the waves seemed to lap against the shore with renewed vigor. isabella used to think it was because she was special, but now she was old enough to realize a coincidence when she saw it.

however, the gentle wind kissing her face and the beams slanting through the clouds to cover her in warm, comforting sunlight seemed to carry a feeling of bittersweet longing today, as though the beach was saying goodbye.

this time, she allowed herself to believe it was true.

7/3/24
MISSION #3! Close your eyes and picture a kingdom- it can look like anything you'd like! Write a paragraph about it… now stop! Fast-forward ten years. What changed in the kingdom? What new developments are there? Continue to fast forward ten years after each paragraph until you have 500 words for 400 points (and a bonus 100 for sharing proof!)

The word beautiful could never be enough, nor stunning, magnificent, or breathtaking. It was a kingdom that could only be constructed by the hands of God and raised from the Earth closer to the heavens by invisible wings. The palace and homes are protected by a grand wall of marble the color of ivory. Each pillar spiraled by bands of gold, leading up to the lanterns of the four suns, massive balls of light refracted through the kingdom by the crystal orbs that held them. The kingdom was truly alive with bustling marketplaces filled with the clopping of hooves and laughter carried high in air powerful wings aflutter. In the center of it all is The Summit, so massive it can be seen even behind the wall. Embedded in the mountain is the palace, so basked in radiance it nearly puts every other monument to shame. At the very peak of the tallest pillar, is the final Sun, Altair, smallest in size but the brightest. It catches the light of all the others and together ensure the kingdom never sets.


Altair has gone dim and all is cloaked in darkness. The once majestic marble buildings have become cracked and gray, the Earth’s corruption seeming to seeping from below, causing blacked tendrils of ash to latch on all that is pure. Now the marketplace is barren, no laughter echoing in the streets, the produce has been blighted and a plague has befallen the streets. Cracks have formed, crawling up the gold laced walls like spiderwebs and soon, the citizens fear it will fall. The only area still coursing with energy is the palace itself, but instead of the joy and serenity it once emanated, only frenzied panic bounced off the walls. The goat-footed and winged came from all walks of life: the fishers and the farmers, the merchants and the maids, the royals and the ragged, all desperate to find a cure for the smallest sun. Each day came and went with little progress and little hope, but not one did falter, not one turned their attention away from Altair’s barely lingering warmth. And perhaps, due to that focus, no one noticed the kingdom in the sky, slowly sinking from the clouds.

The people were too late. The mighty had fallen, the summit had erupted. Magma flowed from the summit's peak from where the Fourth Sun once stood, the fiery liquid an unnatural gold even brighter than Altair’s once warm glow. It coated the ground in charred remains and destruction, only few able to barely rise above the sea of lava. The walls were never meant to be breached, keeping the people safe and the evils away, and so the endless spurts of lava pooled and flooded the once glorious kingdom, before the pressure became too great and the walls collapsed. Now the kingdom was nothing but ashes. Nothing preserved and no one to remember. No one, but a lanky boy wreathed in ash, with scarred wings and a broken soul, wishing all of this was a dream.

Fari's July 2023 SWC writing condensed:
(apologies, I'm aware this is in the wrong thread- I just never got around to doing this last year)

Writing comp entries:
Original: 'Uprooted' https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7379044/
Fanfic: 'What's cooking, good looking?' https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7402888/

Dailies:
13/07: This was my ‘original’ entry for the writing comp. See above.
18/07: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7388739/

Weeklies:
1) https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7370236/
2) https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7384529/ and https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7384802/ and https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7385057/ *
3) https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7396578/
I never did the last one.

* This weekly was in 4 parts- part 2 asked you to create a workshop, part 3 was to read someone else's workshop and follow their advice and part 4 was to give advice to someone else. I can't remember what part 1 was, sorry- but I didn't write for it.

Daily/July 3

The Xurevia Dynasty was bigger than it could ever be… it's immense size spanned across 3 continents, citizens were living from coast to coast. King Dominica looked out of the balcony at his castle, with one of his guards Augustus standing by his side in his defense. With uncertainty visible on his face, he told his guard, "my time has come, my final wish for my nation is that my citizens are able to unite together, and work towards a prosperous future for each future generation. Neither me, my son, his son, or any of my successors can fully guarantee a stable lifestyle for the people alone, that duty is left to those citizens who can determine, in this crucial era, on whether to consider their neighbours as brothers, or as competition. I do not know how long my beloved nation will last if my citizens do not share a corresponding vision for the alliance of Xurevian citizens. That is my wish, Augustus. I need you to do your part in guaranteeing that my people will keep solidarity with one another". King Dominica died a week later, unable to see the outcome of his empire that he helped build.
Within 10 years, chaos had descended upon Xurevia. What was once the beautiful capital of Dangaron, was ruined to shreds and burnt down. A war had broken into each part of what was once a relatively stable dynasty. Years of anarchy bloodshed, and lawlessness would pursue across the Empire. The citizens had failed to maintain their solidarity, and civilization was almost completely unrecognizable.
Augustus, now the general of his own personal army (which was relatively small and had no territorial power), was losing a battle against an enemy brigade. After being forced to retreat to town after town, he visited King Dominica's grave, in a cemetery which had been looted and turned into ruins. The King's grave, however, was still intact after all those years. General Augustus knelt down, with tears in his eyes, and told the tombstone “Your majesty, I have let you down. There is no more empire, but even worse, there is no brotherhood. I am sorry that I have betrayed your country with my ignorance.”

July 3/Daily/UPDATED VERSION WITH BIGGER WORD COUNT FOR POINTS
The Xurevia Dynasty was bigger than it could ever be… it's immense size spanned across 3 continents, citizens were living from coast to coast. King Dominica looked out of the balcony at his castle, with one of his guards Augustus standing by his side in his defense. With uncertainty visible on his face, he told his guard, "my time has come, my final wish for my nation is that my citizens are able to unite together, and work towards a prosperous future for each future generation. Neither me, my son, his son, or any of my successors can fully guarantee a stable lifestyle for the people alone, that duty is left to those citizens who can determine, in this crucial era, on whether to consider their neighbours as brothers, or as competition. I do not know how long my beloved nation will last if my citizens do not share a corresponding vision for the alliance of Xurevian citizens. That is my wish, Augustus. I need you to do your part in guaranteeing that my people will keep solidarity with one another". King Dominica died a week later, unable to see the outcome of his empire that he helped build.

Within 10 years, chaos had descended upon Xurevia. What was once the beautiful capital of Dangaron, was ruined to shreds and burnt down. A war had broken into each part of what was once a relatively stable dynasty. Years of anarchy bloodshed, and lawlessness would pursue across the Empire. The citizens had failed to maintain their solidarity, and civilization was almost completely unrecognizable.
Augustus, now the general of his own personal army (which was relatively small and had no territorial power), was losing a battle against an enemy brigade. After being forced to retreat to town after town, he visited King Dominica's grave, in a cemetery which had been looted and turned into ruins. The King's grave, however, was still intact after all those years. General Augustus knelt down, with tears in his eyes, and told the tombstone “Your majesty, I have let you down. There is no more empire, but even worse, there is no brotherhood. I am sorry that I have betrayed your country with my ignorance.”

After tumultuous times, the General was forced to step down due to a steep decline in his own health. He had seen war and the destruction that man had done to itself. Laying I'll on his deathbed, he told all those nearby him at his time of passage, “every one of you near me shares one common fate, you all share the responsibility of man on your shoulders. Do not follow me on this journey, my beloved.” That man was the one who restored King Dominica's wish. His children obeyed and followed his commands, caring for the next generation and properly maintaining peace for his land. Those children also taught their children the lesson of alliance, and their descendants properly took care of the empire safely, for many years to come.

Daily (July 3rd) for sci-fi - 606 words (close your eyes, and count to 10… make a wish, now open themmm) (sorry I’m not in fantasy but I had to)

“Can you tell me a story, Grandma?” the child asked, hugging a stuffed animal to her chest.

“About what?”

“The kingdom. I like that one. You tell it like you lived through some of it.”

“Perhaps I did.”

The child rolled her eyes, but really, she was enchanted. Her grandma was old enough. What if she had? She opened her mouth to ask, but her grandmother was beginning the story.

“The tall grass swished in the breeze outside the kingdom walls. Outside the walls, the land was lush and green, filled with plants and animals. Inside the walls, though, was much different. The streets were dirty and deserted. Many of the houses were falling apart as if they hadn’t been repaired in years. Despite the poor conditions in the town, the castle was lavishly decorated with gold and jewels. Every night, they had enough food on the table to feed half the village, yet only a tiny portion was eaten. The king and queen knew this, but they didn’t care much- they had everything they needed and more. It was the villager’s fault if they didn’t grow enough grain to sell, wasn’t it?

10 years later, the village had changed. Most of the villagers had left, searching for better places to live. With no villagers to tax, the king and queen were forced to leave, as well. Meanwhile, thieves found the deserted village and stole anything and everything that had been left behind. The kingdom soon turned into a ghost town- it no longer even attracted thieves, just rodents and animals. However, one ambitious young woman found it, and soon…

The once deserted village was bustling with activity. The woman, Isabel- now the queen- had restored the kingdom. Though it took her several years, she did it. People looking for a home came slowly at first, wary of a new queen and a starting village. Then, they came faster, until new people walked through the city gates each day. The wall had been destroyed, allowing the village to expand. Flowers and plants had spread into the village, giving it a beauty it hadn’t had before. It wasn’t perfect- sometimes there was still not enough food; sometimes huge storms damaged roofs. The kingdoms always recovered, though. Some of the old villagers even moved back in, always with amazement and wonder in their eyes as they entered the city.

The village had now spread to the coast. The queen had stepped down, giving the crown to her daughter, Pearl. Pearl, unlike her mother, had no interest in becoming queen. She knew that the villagers would never say it, but she had no talent for ruling. Her talents were in art. If you gave her a pencil and a canvas, she could draw a beautiful portrait within a few hours. One night, she packed her things and left a note on her bed. I’m not fit to rule this kingdom, it said. I know you want me to, but my destiny lies elsewhere. Ramira- you know her, don’t you? The young woman in the village- the seamstress. I’ve already talked to her. She would be a better queen than I would. And with that final note, she left. She came to this village, where she sold her artworks, and, to this day, 40 years later, she still lives in our village.”

The child, who had been listening intently, spoke. “What happened to Pearl?” she asked.

“I told you, dear. She stayed in this village. Now, she has a granddaughter. She still sells her art on Sundays at the market.”

“But that’s what you do.”

“I know. Good night, Isabel.”

Morningtide | 900 words

The sun glittered off the imposing white city and sparkled on the ocean bay, the wayward rays dipping down to flash through the gently lapping green waves before settling down into the cool, misty depths. Morningtide had always been an important city, for not only was it the capital of the country, but it bustled with the trade of cargo ships, fisherman, and ambassadors from far away. Several markets were full to bursting with fresh fish and fruits, brilliant fabrics, and exotic imports from distant lands. The streets were filled with laughter and good humor, and despite the crowded atmosphere, many looked fondly upon the bright city of Morningtide. In the middle, the castle of the royal family rose, a mountain of white stone and clear glass and red banners that crowned the city majestically. The castle was a thing of wonder, and many traveled far and wide to get a glimpse of its fair beauty.
Morningtide was at the peak of its prosperity, in fact, when the royal line, quite suddenly and with no warning, failed.
The king had been a young one, and his queen was younger still. They had been wedded not yet eighteen months, and everyone was expecting to hear news of the first child and heir within the next few years. But that was before tragedy shook the marble walls, and the crown tumbled off the heads of the royal family and into chaos. The king had been on a hunting expedition–his horse, startled by something, shied unexpectedly–the glittering crown rolled off his young brow into the leaf-litter of the forest and his noble blood stained the dirt with life. The queen, weeping, went back to her own people, and died several months later giving birth to a stillborn child. The king had been an only child, born in his parent’s later years.
Cousins and aunts and uncles and distant relations began squabbling over the golden circlet and the ivory palace, and while legal disputes were being settled and potential successors lined up, trade began to falter with no one to manage it. Ten years later, the disputes had not been settled, every lawyer in the country was employed and in the process of growing gray from having to sit in courtrooms with screaming men and women, and the white sails of cargo ships were seen less and less often in the bay, whose green waters splashed placidly as ever while the sunbeams played.
It did not get any better over the next ten years. Another generation of distant relations rose up, adding their cries to the tussle over the crownship. Surrounding countries began to take notice of the condition, and those who formerly sent ambassadors of peace began plotting war. Some of the common people were already beginning to take notice and move on. The markets dwindled, less luxuriant than before, and in the outer streets dust began to gather, because the sweepers had packed their brooms and left.
People died. People were born. People got married. Lawyers gave up and left the nobles to fight out amongst themselves who would hold the kingship. People moved away from Morningtide. The outer ring began falling into disrepair. Other rulers moved closer, and closer.
The waves in the bay grew slimy and dark with refuse. All but the most inner parts of the city were a ghost town, complete with cobwebs and swaying rags and dust. Wild animals took to prowling the streets. The few left behind moved with fear, always looking over their shoulder, never trusting their neighbors. The markets were dead and gone, and the castle, Morningtide’s beating heart, the center of it all, was crumbling.
The squabbling nobles woke up to the fact that there were armies camped outside their front doors and quietly dropped their rights to the crown, one by one. No one wanted to be in charge of this mess now. They could hardly remember what they were fighting for, anyway. Those who had been born when the feud began were entering old age now. The bay lapped higher on the white stone.
Morningtide’s once-fair streets were now stained with blood as armies clashed and soldiers fought, but the winners only built an unsteady empire at best before it fell, pulled down by the ankles of their rivals like children playing king-of-the-hill.
At last, even they gave up and moved on to more fruitful places, leaving the city to crumble in disrepair.
The sea crept ever higher, every year. Stones were eroded, buildings claimed by emerald water to glisten underneath. Fish darted in and out of windows.
Every once in a while, some criminal gang would lounge in the outer reaches of Morningtide, attempting to claim it as a headquarters, but after several disappeared without a trace, word got out that it was haunted, or cursed, or something. The sea now licked at the castle walls.
And finally, with a groan, Morningtide was lost to sight under the sea, and passed out of memory to become no more than a fable, laden with tragedy. Men, women, and children alike shudder to hear of its terrible fate.
And yet, sometimes, a bard or a poet will sing a song of the way it was before, of its fair and wondrous beauty, now beneath the waves. Beautiful songs, but laden with mourning.
For Morningtide is lost forever, given back to the sea.

Trinity the Traveling Witch (Part 1 maybe?)
Fantasy, 7/3

Long ago, a god by the name of Krechi ruled the entirety of Earth. Everyone worshipped him and his right hand man, Jeks. One day, something horrible happened. Jeks got jealous of Krechi's power, so he used the power of the lantern to seal him, becoming the new corrupt leader of the world. Releasing all the magic the gods had into the planet, making abominations of humans. All was turmoil and suffering. Until, one fateful turn-around had arrived. A witch by an unknown name gripped the lantern by the handle and killed Jeks and freed Kretchi, leaving all power and order to be restored. Ending calamity for eons to come.

Welp. That's it. Not much is said about the journey.

I love my endless life of misery and suffering.
Well- not really, I'm Trinity, but you can call me Trin. Apparently I'm supposed to retrieve the lantern of sealing which, doesn't exist, and kill a god, who I just mentioned. So here I am, traveling in the woods for DAYS. Jeez- I love prophesies, especially when they make NO SENSE! I hate everything.

So, there I was, traveling the woods, clutching my satchel of potion ingredients, wandering endlessly. I cry out in utter disgust. “WHY CAN'T I FIND THIS STUPID LANTERN!!! I'VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR DAYS AND I WAS MEANT TO FIND IT FOREVER AGO!”

“DEAL WITH IT!”

A person! Someone was out there! Alive! I couldn't believe it. I start sprinting toward the sound, but- nothing was there, it seemed close! I thought someone was out there! DANG NABBIT! Now I'm in a clearing and all I see is a stupid stick covered with leaves! Calm down. Maybe I can use the stick for something. Surely, like a wand or something.

I start making my way over to the stick until I heard an ominous growling. That wasn't something you'd hear in the woods, trust me, I'd know. I quickly pull out a random potion I made, did I know what it does? No. Was I gonna use it? Yes.

I inch my way to the center of the clearing where the stick was and gripped the potion tighter. Until I hear a yelp, a cry sort of.

“DANG IT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MEANT TO BE HELPING ME!” It cried

“WHO ARE YOU? Are you the thing making those growling noises?” I asked in a suspicious tone, carefully undoing the lid of my potion. My hands are shaking, my breath is quivering, I was horrified.

“Yes it was me! Of course it was me! Do you see anything else that could make it?”

“Wow, well, where are you?”

“You're standing on me.”

“Oh I am?” I quickly stepped off the stick. “You still didn't answer my question.”

“I'm Krechi, god of peace. You were literally just standing on the lantern of legend.”

My jaw dropped, I never thought I'd find it. The lantern THE lantern! I picked the stick up to find that it was indeed a lantern, the flame had died down so much that it was only a mere speck of flame, but there it was, the lantern! “OH MY YOU, IT'S THE LANTERN! THE LANTERN! I FINALLY FOUND IT! OH MY HEAVENS WAS I WAITING FOR THIS! I'm gonna cry, I'm gonna cry!” I squealed.

“You can cry later, you have a god to overthrow. Well, first, you have to light this thing.” Krechi chirped.

This is truly the start of my adventure, lantern in arms, satchel by my side and my hat secured to my head, I began my way forth- well- I needed to tell my bestie first. She isn't gonna believe this.

*Tell me if you want part 2!*

daily 3 - fast forwarding - 1412/500 words

couples dance, the ladies’ dresses flaring with each twirl and dip from their partner. the musicians play, their bows flowing effortlessly across their violin, fingers plucking each string on their harps, beautiful music coming from their horns, each sound coming together to form a lively melody that encourages people to dance and engage in conversation. men laugh together, crashing their mugs in cheers, splashes of their mystery beverage spilling on the ground.
lydia gives me a mischievous grin, eyeing fletcher from across the room.
“don’t even think about it,” i tell her, a scowl on my face. “it could never happen, me and him. he’s a prince and i’m a villager just like everyone else.” i look at him, his deep blue eyes sparkling in the ballroom lights as he flashes a smile at each guest that comes up to greet him.
“oh live a little, daphne! i know you want him. and besides, you’re not a normal villager. your father is one of the most respected men in this town, that gives you a shot!”
i shake my head in disagreement. “what would he ever want with me?” i whisper, defeat filling my voice. with a sigh, lydia takes my hand and drags me away from our empty corner and into the crowded mix of people.
“lydia, what in king sebastian’s name are you doing?”
“i’d like a little fruit punch, and i know you’d like a taste of what it’s like to be in prince fletcher’s presence,” she says with a smirk. i gasp, ripping my hand from her grip. in doing so, i accidentally fling it straight into fletcher’s glass of w|ne, sending the cup tumbling to the ground, where it shatters into what seems like a million pieces. my heart races, negative thoughts creeping into my mind, sending me into a spiral of anxiety.
“i — i’m so sorry,” i gulp, looking up at him. amusement sparkles in his eyes, and he shakes it off.
“no worries at all, my dear.” fletcher leans closer, brushing the hair out of my face. in doing so, butterflies fill my stomach, flapping around in a heap of chaos as i stand in front of him with awe. “the w|ne wasn’t that good anyways,” he whispers in my ear with a chuckle. alright, that did it. the butterflies, once having the time of their lives inside of me, have now exploded into fireworks, and it would appear that there is no shortage of them either.
lydia watched from the fruit punch table, a massive smile displayed on her face as she flashed a thumbs up in my direction. i look back at fletcher, my cheeks no doubt bright red in color.
“what do you say we go get another glass of w|ne? you know, since mine is on the floor and you, well it doesn’t appear you even started off with one,” he suggests, grinning. extremely shocked and at a loss for words, i simply nod. he holds out his hand, and as i take it my heart skips a beat, or rather, a couple beats. at this point, i don’t know if the whole thing is a dream, but i’m certain that i don’t want to wake up anytime soon.
- - -
i watch as lydia taps a spoon to her glass, standing up from her seat once she has everyone’s attention.
“what a day this has been, no?” she looks toward me and fletcher with a smile. “i remember about a decade ago, me and daphne were at king sebastian’s after ceremony party. she was watching fletcher, the music and people surrounding her only a distant noise. the first time she ran into fletcher, well she quite literally ran into him, mistakenly sending his w|ne to the ground, which to this day is stained. and just like that, all her fantasizing and daydreaming came to life, she was face to face with prince, now king fletcher, and here they stand today, hand in hand in marriage.”
the crowd erupted with excitement, and fletcher rubbed my hand lovingly as they did so.
“cheers to a great wingman! or, wing-woman i suppose,” i said, winking at lydia.
- - -
the kingdom thrives under our reign, everybody interacting happily throughout the day, each job getting done successfully and with a smile on the face of whoever is doing it. over the next 10 years i’ve grown to love it, and not just because i’m ‘queen daphne’ now, but because i get to witness the kingdom’s growth alongside my darling fletcher. he makes good decisions, listens to the my advice and the advice of the people, and he is trustworthy.
when his father, king sebastian died, i was almost certain the kingdom would go up in flames. i thought fletcher’s grief would take control of him, and he would waste away in bed with no one who could comfort him. well he completely proved me wrong, claiming that the people needed to know our kingdom was not going anywhere, and that together they could turn it into something better than it already was. and as i look into his eyes each day, glimmering with determination, i know he was successful.
- - -
he collapses. i scream. he gasps for breath that refuses to enter his lungs. i order soldiers to get the nearest doctor. his eyes flutter. i weep beside him. his body trembles in agony.
i want to d|e.
after watching fletcher suffer for the longest three minutes of my life, a team of doctors arrive, one of them being my father.
“papa,” i cry, my eyes wet with tears and face red and blotchy. “what is happening to him?” he shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders as he comes closer to comfort me, the other doctors moving swiftly to fletcher’s side, doing everything in their power to help him.
“i don’t know, dee,” he whispers. “i don’t know.”
- - -
nearly ten years has passed since fletcher’s first fall, and it would turn out to be his first of many. the doctors diagnosed him with an incredibly rare disease, one they haven’t seen in over hundreds of years. since fletcher’s illness, he’s been ordered to stay in bed to avoid getting seriously injured from one of his spells. everytime i lay beside him to talk about what’s going on in the kingdom, i can tell he’s choking back sobs. knowing he can’t do anything to help the kingdom he worked so hard to build up has defeated him, and sometimes i think he doesn’t want to be around anymore to experience that feeling of defeat.
and honestly, i don’t blame him.
the memories we had together when we were happy constantly flow through my mind, and after a long conversation about our sadness, i decide it must end. i make sure to write our will clear as day so nothing can be misinterpreted, handing off the kingdom to our oldest son, and all of our possessions to our daughter.
the next night, after explaining to fletcher my plan, we leave with haste. it’s midnight by the time we manage to exit the castle gates unnoticed. i stare into his eyes, still as enchanted by them as the day i first spilt his wine.
“let’s go, dear,” he tells me, breaking me from the trance his charm brought me into. i nod, leading the way to the ocean on the other side of our kingdom. when we finally reach the old dock, i untie one of the boats and make a spot for us to sit inside of it. as we row, we exchange old memories, jokes, even sadness, but the time has come for us to depart from the world.
“daphne craw, the love of my life,” he begins. “i’m thrilled to have spent this journey called life with you. despite it coming to a close so much quicker than we imagined, i am honored to spend my last moments with a woman so intelligent, so brave, and so beautiful, like yourself.”
wiping the tears from my eyes, i muster up a response. “fletcher craw, the love of my life, i’m thrilled to have spent this journey called life with you. despite it coming to a close so much quicker than we imagined, i am honored to spend my last moments with a man so determined, so resourceful, and so loving, like yourself.”
with a smile, we hold each other in our arms,
then flip the boat.

OOPS THIS WAS A REPOST-

THE VILLAGE || DAILY 3
I'm laying in my bed, the quilt pulled over me. I cant sleep. Little Marcus's snores are coming out from the bottom bunk. I'm happy that hes asleep, because that never seems to come easily to him.
I desperately need to get some water, but I'm scared to wake him. I just lay there in bed, willing to continue with a dry throat.
It feels like hours are passing and it gets to the point where it feels like my mouth is made of sandpaper.
I steadily climb down the rickety ladder and tiptoe into the hall. I get myself a small cup of water and return to the room. As the door creaks open, I enter to see my brother with his eyes wide open looking at the ceiling.
I sit down at the edge of his bed.
'Cant fall asleep?' I ask.
'Nuh uh,' Marcus says.
'Need a story?' I propose.
He nods in the dark pulling the covers almost completely over his head. I see his beady little eyes looking at me over top of the line of stitches.
'Close your eyes kid,' I say. His eyes fall closed, relaxed.
'Imagine a place, no.. a village. A village for you. With everyone designed perfectly to have everything you could want at your fingertips. The stone pathways up to wooden cottages, covered in dark green ivy. You walk from your house to the center of town where a small fountain is situated. People chatter and talk, while the fountain babbles its childish nonsense in the backround. Down the main road are lots of little shops.. candy shops. Filled to the brim with licorice and chocolate, and peppermint and caramel. The streets are filled with their sweet smell. After a long and happy day you return home. A warm mug of hot cocoa presents itself in front of you. A blanket covers your shoulders and you sio the warm, comforting liquid. You set down the mug beside you and drift off to sleep,' I whisper, hoping the idea of such a situation would ease his thoughts. I glance at him to find a sleeping boy. I consider it a win and climb up to my bunk, drifting off myself.

20 Years Later –

I stand on the beaten up front porch that I used to call home. I bring my fist to the door but hesitate before knocking.
An old woman with wispy white hair answers.
She squints at me for a moment before realizing why I'm here.
'Lila!! Oh lila darling, your here to help with the house?' She asks, small crinkles appear in the corners of her eyes indicating the smile is real.
I bring her into a soft but sad embrace.
'Aunt Marianne, so very good to see you,' I say.
'My dear, come on inside. I'll get you a mug of hot cocoa, feel free to look around,' She says.
I step into the chilling house and take off my coat and scarf. I leave my shoes tidily in the creak between the door and the closet, like my father used to always badger me to do. I take slow steps up the old creaking stairs. I speak inside the old master bedroom only to find it completely bare, except for what I assume to be Aunt Marilyn's small lantern and quilt. I feel bad I've left her to deal with this haunted place for so long, caring for my mother. I step into me and my brothers old room, surprisingly, left almost untouched except for his old military medals. Standing there, experiencing the scent of the old oak of the bunk beds, I realize I'm the last one standing. After father died unexpectedly in the fire all of those years ago, it all became like cursed dominos, except I seemed to dodge before I could be hit. Mother got sick and Marcus went to war. He was a brave, brave soldier. He was out there for only a few years. A few years where he did good service. A few years before my sick mother, withering aunt, and I received the letter telling us of young Marcus's brave passing. I'll never forget that day. Mother's sickness braved on for many years, but so did she. Her passing came far to late. I thought I'd be more upset. Maybe more heartbroken. But as I recieved the news it felt old. I think she really died when the letter about Marcus came in. I think I died that day to.
Looking around the room makes me think of the old story of the village I promised him he'd frolic in one day. Imagining the village now, I start to cry. The village looks all grey. The smell of ash fills the air, representing terrible things and broken promises that happened here. An old creaky building crumbles about a block away. Tears are falling from my eyes.
Aunt Marianne comes up the stairs and and I try to wipe up my tears so she doesnt see me, but I dont succeed. She sits down next to me, putting ancient arms around me. She doesnt have to ask what's wrong. She knows. Aunt Marianne understands. She hands me the warm mug of hot cocoa. I down it beforempassing it back to her. She lays me down on Marcus's old bed and I drift off to sleep.

I rlly went the dark route there ToT
-Julia ☆☆

daily 3 894 words

The sun stood high over the keep, shrouding its courtyards in shadow. The air was alive with the sounds of the kingdom- flustered birdcalls, merchants hollering, pickaxes swinging. Within the castle walls was a young and humble city, only beginning to explore the lands of the Great Empire surrounding. But its people, however, were strong and valiant, and its rulers were pure.
A tall, handsome man clad in iron stepped out of the keep, squinting as he surveyed his surroundings. Development was going well. The Flag of Cocos castle's army was at an all-time high, and- yes, he could see down the street that construction of a looming flour mill was nearing completion. The city was riding the high of recent robber baron defeats, including a siege on their own town. Indeed, the progress of the kingdom looked promising.
“Sir Ulrich!” a young boy called from across the street. He waved his arms timidly at the general. Ulrich ceased his gazing and approached the boy.
“The, uh-” the child bit his lip nervously. It was not often one was called as a runner for the castle's highest-ranking official!
“Speak, child.”
“T-the Blade Dancer is calling for you.”
Ulrich nodded knowingly. She must have finished plotting her next move onto the robber barons. He thanked the child and turned to the tavern.
As he walked, a rare smile brushed his face. What a glorious day for the young kingdom. The Flag of Cocos castle would soon be an empire of fearful proportions!

-

Through the blaze of fire, the violent flash of swords glinted. Screams and whinneys pierced the smoky surroundings. The kingdom was surrounded.
“Ulrich!” A forceful shout rang out. A stout woman locked in combat with two larger men swung her head in his direction. The men took advantage of the distraction, swinging blades of steel towards her jugular- but she darted out of the way and slashed at their armour from behind.
As her opponents fell, the Blade Dancer ran to Sir Ulrich. From atop his mount, he could see the chaos with clarity. He looked down gravely at the Dancer.
“Our castle will fall.”
“Our castle mustn't fall!”
Ulrich shot a peircing look at the redhead. “How do you suppose we defeat this onslaught? Uncountable loyal soldiers and civilians have died, and hundreds more will if we do not stop this battle immediately!”
The Blade Dancer squared her jaw and glared at Sir Ulrich. Her voice growled with fierce certainty.
“We cannot let our kingdom be taken. The Flag of Cocos castle… it is a haven. It will become the greatest empire in all the Kingdoms. We must not let it crumble so early!”
Ulrich looked into her eyes. They blazed with stubbornness and ferocity. She truly believed that they must win this battle… but could they?
Seeing Ulrich's hesitation, The Blade Dancer scowled, flinging her hair over her shoulder.
“If you will not fight, than I shall lead this army myself. We will not let our future be tainted by this battle.”
She wrenched on her helmet and charged back into the fray with a cry.
Sir Ulrich took a breath. Behind him, dwellings crumbled into fiery ashes, and arson consumed mills and masonhouses. As he watched, a mighty stone tower crumbled, and the emerald flag of their kingdom fluttered down over its ruins.
Was this the end of the Flag of Cocos Kingdom?

-

The soldier stepped out onto the stage to cheers and whistles. Fruits and flowers were thrown at his feet. He smiled radiantly, accepting the praise with pride.
From the shadows, a tall man watched the knighting ceremony. His beard was tinged with gray and his muscles were strained, but he still appeared as strong as he had two decades ago, when he had first led this kingdom into battle.
What a time it had been since then! Through victories and crippling defeats, he had stood with the Flag of Cocos kingdom. Now, he was watching a new generation of leaders find their way.
“It brings back memories, doesn't it?”
He glanced at his companion, who was smiling as the ceremony came to a close. The sunlight glinted on her fiery red hair, still not dimmed despite the passing years.
“It does.”
His knighting ceremony had been less elaborate. But then again, nowadays the kingdom was a force to be reckoned with. Sky-high walls and mighty towers fortified the bustling, rich castle. It had become a feared empire in the Great Kingdom. It would remain a fortress for centuries to come.
As the ceremony was dismissed and the festivities began, Sir Ulrich retreated to his home with the Blade Dancer. She sighed. Her face was unreadable.
“It's like I said. This is… the greatest empire in the Kingdoms.”
“Well,” Ulrich put in, “We've yet to conquer the Burning Sands.”
“Or the Fire Peaks!” The Dancer chuckled.
Ulrich smiled.
“Yes. There is a long way ahead of us to being rulers of the world. We have the Great Empire and the Everwinter Glacier- but we're yet to step foot in the Burning Sands, or the Fire Peaks, or the Storm Islands.”
The Blade Dancer laughed.
“Oh, how joyous you are! Relax, Ulrich. Enjoy the moment. I have the feeling that the new generation of our leaders will do great things.
”In any case-
Long live the Flag of Cocos!"

A castle that seemed as old as the world itself rose from the hills, made of black stone and painted red on the rooftops. Towers pointed out of the ground like arrows, surrounding a huge cylindrical centre. The magnificent castle was backed by mountains, and houses painted in vibrant colours lay before it like a carpet. Stone arrows poked up haphazardly throughout the kingdom, all the way to the wall at the edge. I was on wall duty. The place was cracked and uneven, cobwebs curled up in the arrow holes, some broken parts never rebuilt. I was almost surprised they had kept the old thing. We hadn't had war for two hundred years. Why would we have one now?

“Just ten years ago, there was a whole kingdom here.”
I chuckled. “Hard to believe, eh?”
We'd learnt about Linsar at school, so as natural adventurers, we'd decided to come to the site itself. And we'd found it. Literally nothing.
Sure, there were beautiful plains leading to the left and mountains to the right that reached for the sun. The scene was worthy of painting. But the place was a two-day horse ride from anywhere. We'd found it. But there wasn't a lot of ‘it’ to find.
“Come on, Ben. Surely there's at least some ruins at the castle,” Jordan said.
“Good thinking.”
So we got our horses to gallop over the picture-perfect plains and rolling hills, all the way to the castle that would have been nestled against the mountains. And we found nothing. There was nothing left, just the pristine, supposedly untouched rock with a secret history nobody would bother to find.

They'd come all this blasted way for nothing.
It was a nice place alright. Just leave out all the bars and red rope and he might've actually liked it. The tour folks had said there were blasted ruins of that stupid place called Linsar. No. It was all rock and soil and perfectly untouched fields. They'd come all this way for fields.
Was that really what the world was coming to, to set up a blasted historical site that didn't exist? John would have his money back. Oh yes. He'd see to that, alright. The place was useless but to make money. Was there even a blasted kingdom here at all? And the crowds were so thick he couldn't even tell. What a useless, useless place.

“Eureka!”
Seriously.
This place isn't destined to be a ‘homeless people/migrants get rich’ program. Does anyone even remember the kingdom that was here thirty years ago? It was great. Just didn't have the bones for war. But what a great place for a kingdom! Turning it into a gold site was a waste of valuable space. Turning it into whatever it's been for thirty years was a waste of valuable space. Nothing for the history books. But if I can get a team together…
I ride out into the hills, into the sound of hammers and pickaxes and endless shouts of “Eureka”. I go out further, to the plains and air that doesn't stink of sweat. To the big picture. And I can put the wall exactly where it was before, the houses, the castle right on top of those stupid gold miners. It would work, that's for sure. I just need the right plan.

“A kingdom will stand between the mountains and the plains, greater than the last. The castle will stand tall in our colours: glorious green and red. It will amaze our allies and frighten our enemies, so huge it will be. The houses will be decorated in joyous colours, just as the last was; as for the wall, it will be kept in pristine condition. We will not make the mistakes of our past. That is why I read history, after all: to ensure a brighter future for all of us.”
And here it stands.


…And here it stood.