Day Four Prep

DAY FOUR: Quinn
(1)Describe your protagonist's life in the story's beginning (Ordinary World or Stasis). Brainstorm ways to establish normality through action and dialog to avoid boring your reader.


          (1) "Halt. State your name or begone." Both ogre guards declared in unison as he drew close.
         "My name is Quinn Peterel. I am here to meet my friend, Zast."
         "He is no longer with us. Begone." Declared the first ogre. With this, both ogres crossed their weapons before the doors and remained silent.
         "Gone? Already? When? There was no final signal for the Ring. Are you sure?"
         There was silence. Quinn knew better than to try and sneak past the trolls. They may be cumbersome, but they were deadly fast with those weapons. With no other option, Quinn decided to finish the Wishgraph to Meira, so he headed back to his Niche to begin the scroll.
         On the way, he met up with some of his other friends on their way to the Ring.
         "Who are you here to see? "queried Quinn.
         "Traik O'Leavy and Emma MacEgan had an appointment with the Ring. We told 'em we'd be there to see 'em off." Keeva O'Sheridan stated glumly.
         "Oi, don't let mi' twin be bothering yi'. He had the longin' for Emma since he first laid eyes on her."
         "That's not fir true. I miss me drinkin' time. If I donna get at least seven sands of solid drinkin', I canna' sleep fir true."
         "Seven sands? How did you manage to pass your studies with so much drink?"
          Kleanan looked at his brother, smiled widely, and then said, "With the Luck of the Leprechaun, ol' boy, with the Luck of the Leprechaun," then laughed.
          "Oi, I wish you wouldn't have asked him that. He thinks it's funny. It was the first time. This be the sixty-third time I be hearing it."
          With Keeva saying this, Kleanan, slapping his knee, doubled over with even more laughter. Soon, the twins began to banter back and forth about whether it was the Luck of the Leprechauns or his cheating.
         Quinn decided to walk away, proceed to his Niche, and leave the twins behind. Soon, he was back in his comfortable Niche writing Meira's Wishgraph.
         Sitting down with a quill, he addressed the blank scroll and froze. He didn't know how to proceed. There wasn't much he could tell Meira; what he could, she would think much of it would be mundane. In contrast, she led a life of private schooling, adventures to the Wilde Forests, and visits to some of the Great Stone Rings. While she was not royalty, due to their family wealth, she received privileges not offered to the common faerie.
         Quinn, on the other hand, even though he had a warrior Da, his Mem wanted to make sure he had no training in the warrior craft. Living on a Military Base, Quinn watched his Da practice with the other warriors daily. He would see the problematic moves, fighting stances, styles, and weapons. Despite his Mem's adamant wishes, Quinn secretly trained twenty-five birth celebrations with his Da's troops. Readied troops required thirty birth celebrations demanding training in hand-to-hand combat fighting, sword mastery, archery, forest warfare, ambush, combat spellcraft, and healing magicks. Quinn would have trained the remaining five birth celebrations; however, his Da's death against the cursed race cut his time short.
         In contrast, his Mem wanted him to focus on learning to become a wizard like her Da. After his Da's death, and without his Da to disagree, she became insistent on the idea that Quinn should spend time with her Da to witness how wonderful such a profession would be. Instead, Quinn decided to go to an academy to study. While his Mem was initially elated, as she already had the perfect place in mind, she became crestfallen when he enrolled at Titania Academy of Magicks and Higher Academics within the Faerie Woods of Naeth. He advised that this was the perfect place because, as his Mem had told him countless times, getting to know faeries of influence is all that is important, and the academy in the Faerie Woods has some of the best-known Proctors. She couldn't argue with that and had to let him go. Also, this was the farthest academy away from his Mem he could get without her getting suspicious.
         Quinn needed to focus on the task at hand. He realized that if he kept up with the delay, he would never finish the scroll and would have to wait until her next year's birth celebration to send her the wish and suffer her disappointment and eventual wrath. Quinn suddenly remembered he had previously written foolish poems to her that had never been sent, along with idle conversation about what he had been doing and gossip. He quickly rounded all the scrolls, rewrote them on the fresh scroll, signed it, grabbed an over-ripe piece of fruit, and rushed out to find a snail.
         As he predicted, he found a snail on the side of the path. He approached from the front, bowed cordially, and intoned, "I wish of ye, Borrum, god of Air, carry this Wishgraph to my beloved." Bowing again and placing the fruit in front of the snail, he took one step back and waited. If the snail took the fruit, there was a deal. If not, the snail canceled the agreement.
         The snail slowly brought its head out of its shell. The two eye stalks oriented her eyes toward Quinn for a moment, then to the offering, then back to Quinn. The snail then, lifting its head slightly off the ground, bowed to Quinn and disappeared into its shell, taking the proffered fruit.
         Within two heartbeats, a soft glow appeared from within the shell. Quinn knew the shell was ready to receive the Wishgraph message. The message fits perfectly within the opening of the shell. He waits for the confirmation that Meira received the scroll before going back. After a few moments, another soft glow proves the transaction is complete.
         As he turned to leave, another glow occurred. This one was brighter. Instead of a Wishgraph, a mud ball rolled out and stopped a few feet before Quinn. Before picking it up, The snail shell rose from the ground, spun slowly, collapsed onto itself, and disappeared. Her disappearance meant the transaction with Quinn was complete, and her job, whatever it was, had been finished.
         Quinn turned his attention to the mud ball on the ground. He heard laughter approaching his location from around the corner and grabbed it. He hurriedly placed the mud ball into his tunic pocket and turned to face the incoming noise makers.
          To his dread, he saw Blackberry, Petal, and Solara walking down the path in deep conversation. He noticed none of them had spotted him, so he decided to duck into the bushes and disappear before they caught him. As he slowly backed into the foliage, Petal squealed, "Oh, look who we have here. It's the elf I want for myself."
          "No, I want him to come to my lake and swim with me. And stay." Said Blackberry dreamingly.
         Solara snapped her fingers in the other two faces, "Snap out of it, you two. Don't you remember the "gift" he gave us? Besides, we have more important things to worry about than Quinn. Alyssum needs us.
         "Why does Alyssum need you? Did she run after another Brownie who turned out to be a Boggart? Seriously, she can't be in any real danger. This complete area has wards against all dark fae."
         "We know that," began Solara, "she started talking with one of the so-called survivors of a 'Hunt.' He stated that only four made it out alive, and he was the winner."
         "Where was this Hunt held? Why is he here instead with his troops, as only the military can participate? Was he hurt so bad that they sent him home? His story doesn't make any sense."
         "I don't know. How do you know so much about the Hunt? Have you been on the Hunt or Something?" Solara asked him with skepticism in her eyes.
         "My Da participated in the Hunt three times. By participating, I mean by decree of the Wizard King Oxyaug II. His squad triumphed all three times. By triumphed, I mean they lived. All three times, they walked away with scars, both outside and ones you couldn't see."
         "Well, Pirphal looked pretty healthy to me, didn't he girls?" Solara said with a smirk. The three of them shared a bawdy laugh.
         "What is his last name?"
         "Jeesh, settle down. What are you going to do?"
         "That name is not from around here. He sounds like a Lowlander. He doesn't belong here. She could be in trouble. I tell you what. I am going to help you find Alyssum. Besides, having one more person looking covers more ground. Where have you all looked?"
         After discussing the areas they previously looked at, they decided Quinn would search the male students' Mushroom Niche and storage areas.
          Like all the zones within the academy area, the location for the male Niches was in the shape of a circle with a Mushroom Niche in the center. The main Niche is a meeting hall where meals occur, and activities such as academic work, sporting events, magick practice, and social events occur.
         As he drew near, he saw the glow of lights coming from within a closed Activity Hall. Because it was nearing daybreak, he knew no one should be there. He carefully made his way toward the mound, avoiding the portal windows. When he was within hearing distance, he heard the murmuring of conversation. After moving closer, he could understand a distinct discussion.
         A female voice shakingly spoke, "Don't you think we should get going? It's almost daybreak."
         A deep, baritone voice replies, "We'll be safe here. You're not nervous around us, are you? You said earlier you are very experienced and always ready to have fun, didn't she, Folre?"
         Quinn could hear the panicky tone in the female voice, to the verge of tears, "Come on, we've had fun already. I'm ready to go home. I won't tell anyone about tonight, I promise. Nothing happened, right? Please? I don't wanna . ." She trails off sobbing.
         Quinn heard enough. He went to the portal nook door to determine if they had accidentally left the door unlocked. Quinn slowly, quietly, pressed the lever down to avoid the low clicking noise that usually follows when opening the door. Gratefully, the door is unlocked and opens silently. He slowly pushes the door carefully and quietly until it is open enough to see the backs of Pirphal and Folre. Where was Alyssum?
         A soft whimpering from somewhere in the front of the room grew louder as Quinn slowly, quietly made his way deeper into the alcove. The sound of a fist against soft tissue and a shriek of renewed sobbing of fear alerted Quinn to the location of Alyssum. With careful and deliberate movements, he came upon the sight that brought bile to his throat.
          The half-conscious Alyssum was at the feet of the biggest of the two attackers. She had a ripped tunic, a bruised eye, a swollen lower jaw, and a bleeding forehead.
         Quinn knew he needed to do something before they harmed Alyssum more. What could he do? If Quinn left to get help, it might be too late. By the time he returned, the attackers could be gone, and who knows what may happen to Alyssum.
         Uncertainty and rage consumed Quinn. He couldn't understand why he felt this way. He could leave and forget about this incident, and no one would ever know he was here,
         He would know.
(2) Describe the inciting incident or trigger (Call to Adventure) that prompts your protagonist(s) to embark on this story's journey (whether literal or metaphorical) and face the conflict. This incident could be significant and evident, like a death or disaster, or it could be insignificant, such as an offhand comment by another character.
          "Oh, stop with the formal greeting and hug me. It has been too long since we were together. There is too much to cover with the time we both don't have. It would be best if you attended your first assignment, and I must return to the Court. I can't believe you have grown so fast. You look like your Da when he was your age. He was a bit scrawnier, but he filled it out. So, where are you assigned?" Inia asked with a slight twinkle in her eye that went unnoticed.
          "I am assigned to the Land of Eternal Autumn, between the Dark Forest and the Badlands."
          "I hear several conflicts occur in the area, and the Hunt is one of them."
          "I know about the Hunt. Da experienced it three times by order of the King. Da never talked about the times he went; he only said that it changes a person once you've gone, and he went three times."
          "I know he did," Began Inia, "and it did change him. Especially the last time he went. He came back like something inside him broke. He and I had many long talks after that. He couldn't talk with your Mem because she wouldn't understand what he went through. Neither could I, but I tried. During our last talk, he gave me something to give you on your academy graduation day if he wasn't here himself. He didn't trust your Mem because she wouldn't want you to have it." Inia walked behind Headmistress D'Harnas' desk and struggled to pull over a large wooden chest.
          "What is it? Well, I can see it is a trunk, but what's inside?"
          "I don't know. Your Da didn't leave the key with me, and I haven't been able to find it."
          As Quinn looked over the trunk, he vaguely felt he had seen this long ago. He knew it wasn't in their home while he was growing up. Quinn would have remembered it because this wasn't Something his Mem would have allowed. With this thought, he recalled his Da kept this trunk in his office on the military base.
          Quinn approached the trunk and knelt beside it. He ran his hand over the rough wood exterior and found where his Da had carved his name into the lid: Virion Quinn Peterel.
          Following his Da's name, someone carved the King's name and crossed it out: Oxyaug, III.
          "Who carved the other name onto my Da's chest? Did Da get angry? Is that why he crossed it out?"
          "I can say this honestly: your Da was a warrior first who did not want to be King. He felt he could do better with his actions than sugary words and sitting apart from the world. Many people tried to control him and take away his choices. He fought long and hard to have the life he wanted."
          "I don't understand. Why didn't Da ever talk about those wars? Who did he fight?"
          "The battles I am referring to aren't the battles you think they were. These were within your Da. I tried to support your Da as much as possible until your gre-Da sent me away."
          "What about Mem? Was she there?"
          "At this time in your Da's life, he hadn't met your Mem yet. Your Da foreswore his heritage and left the capital, leaving his family behind."
          Quinn knelt by the chest with his hand covering his Da's name. He processed the information Inia had shared. While looking at the scratched name on the chest and thinking of what Inia stated, 'your Da was a warrior first who did not want to be King.'
          It suddenly dawned on Quinn, "Da was a Prince? He was to be the King?"
          "Your Da didn't want to be a Prince or King. He wanted to be a warrior. He left the capital, gave up his last name, and started his life over in the military. He went to the outer reaches of the kingdom to enlist where people would be less likely to know him. It was much later that he met your Mem. As far as I know, no one at the capital knows of you, just as your Da wanted it."
          "I need to sit down. This is a lot of information. Da never said anything to me about any of this."
          "That is what you Da wanted. It took the King a long time to track your Da. When he did, he was not kind. He sent your Da on the Hunt and disguised it as a privilege when it was to be a lesson. After the first Hunt failed to get the King's desired results, he sent your Da twice. Your Da survived each Hunt because of his skills, training, and determination."
          "After the last Hunt, your Da hid for the final time. He shared a secret with me. He told me that he took his fitted suit of armor and long sword before he left the capital. He didn't tell me why he took it and never used it. With the weight of the chest, I wouldn't be surprised if that is what is inside."
          "He died at my chateau thinking of you and your Mem. When he did not return to your home, your Mem questioned the military about his disappearance. They made up a story about the battle with the cursed ones, effectively covering the King's part with your Da and providing your family with a good pension."
          "You said he died at your place. Where is his body?"
          "Your Da's wishes were explicit. He didn't want a burial and didn't want your Mem to have his remains. He thought if there were a body, the King would find it and use dark magicks for his purpose. He wanted his ashes to join the West Wind, and I am fulfilling his final wishes. That's why I'm giving you this trunk now. Besides the armor and sword, he left you a journal. He did not tell me what he wrote, except it is for your eyes alone."
          While kneeling by the trunk, Quinn carefully examined the black powdered cast iron trunk lock. He felt a slick tingle when he held the lock in his hand, causing him to withdraw. Quinn quickly looked toward Inia to see if she noticed his sudden reaction. When he looked at her, he immediately noticed she was not moving.
          He stood up, walked over, and addressed her directly, "Inia? Inia, what's wrong? Can you hear me? Inia?"
          When she did not answer or acknowledge him, Quinn placed his hand on her shoulder. Expecting her shoulder to give way to his touch, he met with resistance. He put his other hand on the other shoulder and gently shook her; however, he could not move her.
          Worried, Quinn decided to find Headmistress D'Harnas. When he attempted to open the door, he discovered it would not budge. Quinn pounded on the door to gain someone's attention, but there was no sound. He struck again, and this time, he yelled for assistance. Pressing his ear to the door to listen, he didn't hear any movement.
          He turned to see if he could rouse Inia when he noticed a soft green glow coming from the front of the chest. He walked to the front of the chest, alarmed to see a small green flame surrounding the iron lock. He grabbed an empty goblet, filled it with water, and tossed it on the lock. He expected the fire to flicker and go out; however, the flame stayed burning.
          Quinn sat in front of the chest and noticed the chest's wood was not burning or becoming charred due to the flame's heat. He placed his hand near the flame to feel the warmth and felt none.
          A sharp, burning pain caused Quinn to look down toward his chest. He noticed a small trail of smoke coming from his tunic pocket. He stood up, quickly removed his tunic, and threw it to the floor, stomping it with his foot. As he tried to stomp out the flame, he stepped on a solid object and heard a crunch, and something gave way underneath his foot. Bending down, he sifted through the clothing and found a pile of crumpled dirt. He remembered the dirt ball the Wishgraph snail had given him the prior week. While digging through his clothing to see what caused the smoke, he began thinking of a list of questions. How could a dirt ball catch fire and burn a hole in his shirt? Why was he even looking for the dirt?
          Quinn stood up, grabbed his tunic, and shook out the dirt. While shaking, he heard a solid thunk on the wooden floor and looked down. To his surprise and dismay, he saw a bronze key surrounded by a green flame.
          Before grabbing the key, he again filled the goblet with water and slowly poured it over the burning key, watching the results closely to see if the water extinguished the flame. When he saw no reaction from the flame doused by the water, he placed his hand close to the flame to feel if it provided heat, and from there, he poked the key with his finger to judge if the fire was real. Satisfied that the flames were not, he picked the key up for a closer examination.
          While intently looking at the flaming key, he sat by the chest before the lock. He was hesitant to open the chest. He just discovered that the Da he thought he knew was not the person he believed everyone else knew. Didn't Inia tell him the chest contained items from his Da? Would he even want whatever the chest had within?
          Uttering a soldier's curse his Mem would disapprove of upon hearing, Quinn cups the burning cast iron lock in his left palm, positions the burning key, inserts it within the key chamber, and attempts to turn the locking cylinder. At first, there is enough resistance to cause Quinn to believe he possesses the wrong key when, suddenly, there is a sharp click. The flame surrounding the cast iron lock flares intensely and sputters out. Letting the lock fall back against the chest, Quinn jerks his left hand back in pain and notices the palm that held the cast iron lock received a severe burn.
          "It is a shame your Da never gave me the key to open the chest, or we could have...." Inia stopped before she could finish as she saw the chest had been unlocked. "How did that get unlocked? Is that a key in the in the lock? Where did it come from? Have you had it all this time?"
          The sudden break in the absolute silence and the pain of the burn startled Quinn to the point that he swore again.
          "I will pretend I did not hear that. I am confident you did not learn those words from here. They sounded more like what your Da would say when he was about to lose an argument." Inia firmly stated, though a scarcely noticeable smile formed at the corners of her mouth.
          "I beg your pardon, Inia, and pray for your forgiveness. You and this room were under a spell. You were like a statue and stood motionless and did not respond. I attempted to leave the room but discovered the door would not open. I called for assistance; however, no one came. I am glad whatever occurred has passed."
          "I do not recall any lapse of time. Anything else happen?" Inia sees the scar on Quinn's palm for the first time, "How did you burn your hand and receive the scar? Strange, I did not notice that previously."
          "I need to go back a bit to explain. When I sent Meira a Wishgraph, I received a mudball. I had no idea who had sent it or why. I placed it in my tunic and forgot all about it. I usually empty my pockets when I get back to my room. Today, as I left my Niche, I put on my tunic without checking the pockets and was summoned here. As we spoke, I touched the chest's lock, and everything stopped, as I said earlier."
          "After checking on you and the door, I noticed the lock on the chest had a green flame. It wasn't a real flame; it looked like a real flame, but it wasn't hot, and I couldn't put it out with water. Looking at the lock, I felt something burning in my tunic. I took it off and started to stomp on the flame to extinguish it. I saw a pile of dirt and remembered the dirtball in the tunic. Disgusted, I picked up my shirt and shook out the earth. While shaking the tunic, I heard a solid noise of something hitting the floor. That is when I saw a key with the same green flame surrounding it."
          "I wasn't going just to pick the key up. I dumped water over it, evaluated it for heat, and gently touched it."
          Inia interrupted Quinn, "Is this when you received your burn?"
          "No, that comes later. The key wasn't hot. It only had the same fire as the lock."
          "They were enchanted. They must have been attuned, especially for you. Your Da ensured only you were to receive what was inside this chest. It must be indeed special." Observed Inia.
          Quinn thought for a moment before continuing. "When I went over to the chest, I held the lock in my left hand and opened the lock. As soon as the lock opened, I felt a sudden sensation in the palm of my left hand. It wasn't a burning sensation, but something else."
          Inia moved closer to Quinn, "May I see your palm? I would like to see the extent of the damage."
          Quinn held out his hand for his aunt, palm up. The wound had healed, and only a pink scar remained.
          "You claimed this just happened? This wound looks like it is much older. Is there any pain?"
          "No. None. It itches a little." Quinn answered.
          "It sounds like your Da meant for you to be able to open this chest on this date, at this time, so the key arrived before I came. He must have collaborated with several magic users to set up everything to ensure everything would happen as he wanted." After looking more closely at the chest, lock, and key, Inia continued, "This might be the work of an Artificer, a magic user of great power. This being can increase other's abilities beyond their current level. The same applies to powers, weapons, armor, and anything useful in combat. To work such a complex feat of magic, it would have taken no less than ten Grand Wizards to accomplish this feat without an Artificer."
          "My Da must have known he wasn't going to be here."
          That statement resonated through Quinn and Inia to the point where neither spoke. After several heartbeats, Quinn said softly, "I want to open the chest and see what my Da wanted me to receive."
          "Would you like me to leave?"
          "For now, yes. I may have questions regarding what I find, though."
         Inia left the room and quietly shut the door as she left. Quinn went back to the chest and knelt before the lock. He carefully released the shackle, removed the padlock body, and swung open the hasp latch. Taking a shaky, deep breath, he slowly opened the chest.
         The top item is a Heraldic shield, three wings long and one and a half in width. The design on the shield was of a long sword pointed downward with an ornate golden hilt. The shield had serrated edging to inflict damage to opposing combatants. He knew it was his Da's because it was a right-handed shield. Quinn carefully lifted the shield from the chest and flipped it over to see the back. He saw the padded straps and cushioned shoulder brace for charging forward. He carefully positioned his arm within the belt, adjusted the shoulder harness, and tightened the straps to a comfortable tightness. His Da had always advised him to pull tight enough for the leather to talk back.
         With the shield on, Quinn lifts an oil-soaked burlap bag. As the bundle of burlap lifts from the chest, the rags partially fall off, and his Da's green blade dully reflects the outside light. Quinn sets the blade down, removes the shield, and removes the remaining burlap bags. Before picking up the sword, he looks into the chest for any remaining items. Besides finding more burlap bags, Quinn discovered a manuscript at the bottom of the chest. Opening the document, he found it was in a language he did not understand. Inia would know what it said.
         Opening the study door, he saw Inia speaking to the Headmistress. "Uh, Elder, please. May I speak with you again?" He almost acknowledged her relationship with him.
         As she returned to the room, "Have you opened the chest?"
         "Yes, I want to show you something I have found." He went to the chest, returned with the manuscript, and handed it to her.
         "I found this with my Da's shield and sword." He patiently waited for Inia to look over the document.
         "It appears to be in code. I briefly looked through it and could not locate a translation key. Are you sure you looked through the whole chest?"
         "Yes. However, I can look again." Quinn returns to the chest, removes the shield, and places it against the desk. He then goes back and grabs the sword with his left hand. The blade immediately brightens to a fiery green without the heat.
         "That's your Da's blade. I thought that only he could get the blade to respond. Wait, let me see your left palm again.
         Quinn showed Inia his palm. She rubs her fingers around the scar as if remembering something once forgotten. "Your Da had something like this on his palm, too. Whenever he used the sword, he could use its unique features. Have you tried lifting the blade?"
         "I have. The blade glowed. I put it down to investigate the chest further. Let me show you what happened." Quinn moved back to the chest and picked up the blade. The blade's power stayed inert.
         "I don't understand. I glowed a bright green last time. I didn't do anything special; I just picked it up, and it burned."
         "Were there any words or incantations on the blade when it burned green?"
         "No, just a green flame, I guess."
         "I need more than a guess. Be certain. Think again. Be extremely specific. What happened."
         "I opened the chest first. I saw the shield and put it on."
         "Do it again. Show me."
         Quinn took the shield out and buckled it back on his arm and shoulder, securing it.
         "Aren't you right-handed? Why are you wearing the shield on your right side."
         "No. I am left-handed like Da. We wear the shield on this side because our left arm is our sword hand." With this, Quinn reaches into the chest, grabs the sword's hilt again, and withdraws the sword.
         The room becomes bathed in the glow of the green fire.
          Inia gasps, suddenly recognizing the significance of the insignia on the shield and the flaming sword.
          "By the gods, Quinn. Your Da has done something terrible, something unspeakable. Unthinkable."
          "What? What did he do?' He tried to place the sword down but couldn't," something is wrong. I cannot let go of the blade. Or the shield. What's happening?"
          "I believe your Da made a bargain with the goddess Iomadae, the goddess of Righteous Valor and Honor. That is her insignia on the shield and her blade in your hand. That mark you have. I saw it in your father's hand. He made a bargain with her. When he failed, it fell upon you to fulfill when he could not."
          "What bargain would he have made? What bargain would be worth selling his life and destroying mine?"
          "The only one I can think of is killing our father, the mad King."






DAY FOUR: Maira


(1)Describe your protagonist's life in the story's beginning (Ordinary World or Stasis). Brainstorm ways to establish normality through action and dialog to avoid boring your reader.
          Meira had anything but a normal childhood. The only natural parent neglected her she ever knew, raised by people who didn't care for her, had no real playmates, and no one thought she was worth their time.
          Meira's Da, Halrond Heijor, spoiled her to an extreme when he was around. He spent most of his time away from their chateau at the Syzygy, a secretive club where all sworn members had the cryptic design of three celestial bodies magickly placed on the nape of their neck in a straight line. Due to its magickal nature, this design became visible only during a Red Moon.
          On their wedding day, Halrond and a Brown Elf named Nyhadora, Meira's Mem, were cursed by Halrond's gre-Mem because she disapproved of the marriage with the Brown Elf. The curse began when the couple placed their golden bands on each other's fingers. The first part of the curse did not strike the beautiful Nyhadora until she gave birth to her firstborn child, Meira.
          The curse transformed Nyhadora into a self-centered Pixie with an excessive preoccupation with herself. She forgot about Halrond and her newborn child. Compulsively, she transformed rooms in the chateau into viewing rooms filled with mirrors where she would spend her days viewing herself. If anyone dared enter, she would become enraged and throw furniture at the mirror reflecting the other person's image, so no different reflection but hers remained. She eventually refused all entry of everyone, including her husband and daughter. Because of this, Halrond had no choice but to send her away to exile, where she would be by herself. Not bearing to forget his wife as she once was, he closed off her wing of the chateau, forbidding all entry and even posted guards.
          During her first hundredth birth celebration, Meira had several nursemaids and nannies. She was sent to the best boarding schools and academies away from home. During his infrequent breaks, Halrond would meet with his daughter with one of his private secretaries so he would not be alone with her. Due to being completely out of touch with Meira, he bought her whatever she wanted to make her happy so he would not have to forge a paternal bond with her.
          A defining moment for Meira was in one of her early Boarding Schools. She was missing her Mem and Da because all the other girls would talk about what their parents would be doing with them on the upcoming Parent Day Weekend. Meira knew her Da wouldn't be there because he had to work, as always. She would be left alone, as always. As the day grew closer, her anxiety grew. She wanted to send him a message but knew it would do no good. She went to see the Head Mistress.
         The Head Mistress advised Meira that a message was sent to her Da about this weekend and its importance for the child. She stated she received confirmation that Meira would understand that Da loved her and always thought of her there.
         The big day arrives, and the students eagerly await their parents' dropping arrival. The coaches drop off the parents and other family members. Tears of joy and Happiness are shed. Soon, only Meira is standing alone. Her tears are not of Happiness.
         A Scream is heard. Then another. And another. Soon, there is panic, and everyone runs toward the Manor. Meira Looks around to see a White dragon flying down toward the ground. She is so frightened that she cannot move, and it lands twenty-five feet in front of her. Looking directly at her, it bows its giant head.
         Down jumps her Da, saying anything she wants, she gets.


(2) Describe the inciting incident or trigger (Call to Adventure) that prompts your protagonist(s) to embark on this story's journey (whether literal or metaphorical) and face the conflict. This incident could be significant and evident, like a death or disaster, or it could be insignificant, such as an offhand comment by another character.


          On their wedding day, Halrond and a Brown Elf named Nyhadora, Meira's Mem, were cursed by Halrond's gre-Mem because she disapproved of the marriage with the Brown Elf. The curse began when the couple placed their golden bands on each other's fingers. The first part of the curse did not strike the beautiful Nyhadora until she gave birth to her firstborn child, Meira.
          The curse transformed Nyhadora into a self-centered Pixie with an excessive preoccupation with herself. She forgot about Halrond and her newborn child. Compulsively, she transformed rooms in the chateau into viewing rooms filled with mirrors where she would spend her days viewing herself. If anyone dared enter, she would become enraged and throw furniture at the mirror reflecting the other person's image, so no different reflection but hers remained. She eventually refused all entry of everyone, including her husband and daughter. Because of this, Halrond had no choice but to send her away to exile, where she could be by herself. Not bearing to forget his wife as she once was, he closed off her wing of the chateau, forbidding all entry and even posted guards.
          Gre-Mem's curse's final spell activated on Meira's two hundredth birth celebration. The curse's subtly was so fine that it went unnoticed, but the effect was so profound that it slowly altered Meira's physical perception and personality.
          At first, changes began by slowly opening her physical senses beyond their already enhanced level. Her eyes gradually acquired a slight golden tint that enabled her to see clearly in absolute darkness and perceive heat signatures from all living beings. Her hearing became so acute that she could hear the heartbeat of someone standing around a corner from twenty yards away. Finally, her sense of touch became sensitive enough to discern the different temperatures in stone floors if someone had walked past within the past three candle widths. Because of this change, she wore padded gloves not to overwhelm her senses.
          Meira's nature began to change immediately. She found herself not wanting to be around anyone anymore. She preferred the solitude and quiet of her thoughts. She discovered she yearned to learn much more than she previously knew. Her Da has an extensive library filled with all manners of books. While there were many topics, she felt drawn to the historical, behavioral, political, and magical. With the heavy curtains drawn, Meira spent nights and days in the library reading, only taking four candle widths to meditate whenever needed. When her massive pile of books became depleted, she wanted more. Fortunately, she knew the location of a supply of well-kept secretive knowledge of ancient texts, and her Da was the key to getting in.
          "Meira, what a pleasant surprise. I haven't seen you in such a long time. How have you been, my dear? What brings you here to see me?" Meira could tell her Da's enthusiasm was exaggerated.
          Kissing both cheeks, "Da, how could I not want to see you? It simply has been too long since we have spent time together. I hope coming unannounced is acceptable. I just produced the idea and had to act as soon as possible."
          "Well, of course you did. Fortunately, I have no pressing business at my club right now. We just finished our annual meeting, so my schedule is open. Let me contact my secretary to make some arrangements for you."
          She stared her Da directly in the eyes, holding his face between her palms and rubbing the salve from her lips into his skin, "Da, you promised you would take me to your club when no one was there. Do you remember promising this to me?"
          Halrond's eyes became dilated, "... I promised you . ."
          "Yes, you did. You promised to take me to the secret library."
          His eyes roll back into his head, ". .I promised you . ."
          "You promise to show me all the magickal tomes and magickal items in the Guarded Chamber. Do you remember?"
          "I promised you, my queen."
          "Thank you, Da. You will take me when no one is there so I will not be disturbed. Remember, you promised me."
          Meira placed a bracelet she made from her hair around her Da's wrist, closed her eyes, and began quietly chanting a spell. As she chanted, the bracelet started to shrink and grow tighter around his wrist until it cut off the circulation to his hand and cut through the skin and veins. Meira quickened her chant as blood formed and dripped from the severed veins. Within seconds, the bracelet directly compresses the muscle and tendons against the wrist bone.
          Her chanting changed to a slower cadence. Muscles and tendons flowed over the bracelet and healed, veins reconnected, and the bleeding stopped. Soon, new layers of skin appeared, and the hand looked indistinguishable from the other.
          "I know you love my present, Da. I know I loved giving it to you. I only wish you could have felt me giving it to you. However, you could always ask the servants at the chateau how it felt. I am sure they remember every moment of it."
          Turning to face her Da, "Now to business," Meira forcibly slaps her Da, acting as if nothing happened, pausing for a few seconds until her Da's eyes are back in focus, and sweetly asks, "Why don't you take me out for dinner? I am famished?"
          "Sure, sweetheart, anything you want. Oh, I just remembered something I promised you. After we eat, let's go to my clubhouse. I will give you a tour of the library."
          "Why, Da! That is so unexpected. Why don't we go to the club first and visit the library?"
          "I had a wonderful idea. We will go to the club first and visit the library."
          "Oh, Da, attending the club first is an excellent idea."
          "I will call our coach, and we will be off."
          "It is such a beautiful evening; why don't we walk and enjoy ourselves?" Taking the coach would take less time; however, having fewer people knowing their whereabouts was critical.


DAY FOUR: Zast
          (1)Describe your protagonist's life in the story's beginning (Ordinary World or Stasis). Brainstorm ways to establish normality through action and dialog to avoid boring your reader.


          "Halt. State your name or begone." Both ogre guards declared in unison as he drew close.
          "I am Zast the Elf. I am due for the Ring Ceremony."
          "Are you here of your own free will?" Intoned the first guard.
          "Yes, I am," Zast responded as he rehearsed.
          "Do you accept what the Ring offers?" asked the second guard.
          "Well, I do. But..."
          "Do you understand the Ring is fulfilling its required responsibility? And in no way responsible for your future?"
          "What?"
          "Only 'yes' is accepted." The first guard intoned.
          "Only 'yes' is accepted?" the second guard repeats.
          "The applicant answered, 'Yes.'" Both guards say in unison.
          Before Zast could answer, a sudden flash occurred, and he found himself in a giant Ring surrounded by Brownies, Pixies, Elves, Kobalds, Leprechauns, Devas, Dryads, Gnomes, Wood Nymphs, and Silent Banshees. All hands joined, staring at him.
          A woman's voice speaks. Its source is unknown. "Zast Elf, the Ring has chosen you to be its Liaison to the Seelie Court while at Sector 1546-Section-F, the Snow Dwelling."
          "What?"
          A blinding, whirling flash of multi-colored lights swallowed Zast. Vertigo overwhelmed him as he felt the floor beneath him drop away. He had no idea how his body was oriented: up, down, sideways, even inside out. Scenes flashed all around him. Time stopped.
          Unbelievable eruptions of fire, heat, dust, and melted fire rock. All around, swirling white masses hurling everywhere away from him. The unbearable heat and light. He blinked.
          A green forest was all around him. Serene. A massive, deliberate being comes toward him. He couldn't believe his eyes. A treant! They haven't been seen in an eon since the cursed race appeared. He blinked.
          A raging battle is taking place. Dead and dying bodies are everywhere. Rain mixed with blood on the battlefield filled his nose with the scent of earth and magick-infused steel. He knew this was a battle scene between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts.
          "Excellent, Liaison Zast, you're here. Welcome to Sector 1546-Section F. Shall we begin your training as a liaison to the Seelie Courts and Wizard Apprenticeship?


(2) Describe the inciting incident or trigger (Call to Adventure) that prompts your protagonist(s) to embark on this story's journey (whether literal or metaphorical) and face the conflict. This incident could be significant and evident, like a death or disaster, or it could be insignificant, such as an offhand comment by another character.
         While meditating, Zast sees a vague vision of his friend Quinn needing help. He goes to Danduil and asks what it means, and he is advised that Quinn is the tyrant King's grandson and is being hunted by the King. The King does not know what Quinn looks like; he only knows he exists, but that could change. Danduil also states he had placed a concealment spell over Quinn but doesn't think it will hold. Even though not finished, it is time for Zast to leave.
         Shocked and terrified, Zast states he has only been there for two months and has only mastered cantrips and farseeing. Danduil reminds him of the time-dilation spell and advises Zast to look into the mirror. To Zast's shock, he has a dark beard and mustache.
         Asking how long he had been there, Danduil answered that only fourteen years had passed, hardly anything. However, he increased Zast 's learning abilities tenfold. Zast is ready to leave.
         First, however, he must be tested.
         The next afternoon, arriving at the testing ring, Zast is aware of a bright yellow circle. He intuitively knew it was a magic spell-canceling all spells going through and protecting all bystanders.
         He sees another elder on the other side. Snow Elf. Rules state that you meet your opponent first, go to your side of the Ring, wait for the explosion, and then kill your opponent. Easy.
         As he began to walk to the center, Zast started to wonder which spell to use first and realized no spells were coming up. He begins to panic. Too late. Customary hello, then back to the starting place and wait. He was standing there waiting--big boom. Zast waits for the attack, and so does his opponent.
         Finally, the Snow Elf attacks, casting a Cloud of Darkness over himself so he cannot be seen. Then three fireballs shot out, then three more, then three more. Just before being hit, Zast thinks of shiels and raises one, and all nine hit in with the shield absorbing them.
         Next, the Snow Elf casts Blizzard directly over Zast. As the full force of the wind and cold strikes, with the blowing snow and ice piercing like nails, the Dispel Magic occurs, and he holds his wand straight up and, through chattering teeth, yells the command. As the storms dissipate, the Snow Elf casts Magic Missiles again; this time, Zast cannot summon a shield in time because his teeth are chattering. He manages to move aside for eight of the nine. The ninth one hits him in the left arm. There is a moment of searing pain, then nothing. A spell comes out of his mouth, his wand points up, and nothing. He goes down on his knees and drops his wand.
         The Snow Elf smiles. He knows he has won. He begins to cast and wave his wand and is stopped by an overwhelmingly loud noise. He looks around, then up just as a colossal fireball slams into him, killing him.
Zast felt a warm sensation as the other Wizard's presence was absorbed. He gained the magical knowledge of the previous Wizard and his memories. The rush of thoughts and images was overwhelming until Zast calmed his mind and focused on controlling his thoughts.
         Zast realizes he has new spells: Blizzard, Missiles, and Invisibility.
         There was something else within the thoughts of the dead Wizard. Something was hiding in the recesses of the shadows of sight. Zast Attempted to focus but could not concentrate. Something was preventing him from committing himself entirely to the effort. It was invasive and unrelenting. When he attempted to stand, he fell over on his left side.
         It was at this time that Zast noticed his left arm was missing.