So... Where's the Map?

At the beginning of April, I promised the new map I drew of Airtha. Well, I found out that some of my other maps I had posted, was being misused.

Needles to say, I was not amused when I found out.*

So I decided not to post the whole map at this time. And I will also be sure to put the correct attribution licence on the future posts as well. Lesson. Learned.


*The whole creative commons and fan fiction discussion can be left for another day - it's a bit too long for this post.

Flash Fiction: Twisted Time

This piece was written for the 10 April Flash!Friday competition. The prompts were “spy” and the photo. In this one I also experimented a bit with formatting. 

The Beggar. CC2.0 photo by Foto_Michel.

Twisted Time

I don’t know where I am. The place looks familiar in a time-twisted sort of way. The shop over there should be the bakery. The sweet shop across from me. But they’re gone, suddenly, disappeared overnight. Someone came to change everything. 

“Crazy crone,” someone mutters as they walk past.

Why is the sweet shop selling gambling tickets? 

I want to play, but I feel drained. My mind feels strange. Someone changed everything. 

Something clicks. 

I wonder why I’m sitting on the cobbles. I should be at home where it’s warm. In my hand is a piece of chalk. Next to me, in a cup, more pieces. There’s a picture on the cobbles of a house with a tree and a family. It looks like it was drawn by a child, but I don’t see any children close by. 

My fingers are covered in coloured chalk dust.

What on Earth am I doing here?

I don’t know where I am. The sweet shop is gone, but I have chalk to draw with. None of the other kids want to play with me. 

A beautiful lady in a silver dress comes to sit next to me. 

Something clicks. 

“Time,” I ask. “What have you done to me?”

View image | gettyimages.com

Flash Fiction: We’ll Be Free

This flash piece was also written for the 10 April Flash!Friday competition. For once this is a more upbeat piece! 

The world in which it takes place is Airtha – with a bit of the Ruon and Nithin thrown in. 

We’ll Be Free

I know the Nithin can see me where I’m sitting on the corner of the street. It was foolishly stupid of me to sneak so close when I know they can spot me - even though the shadow cloak worked with charms of invisibility hides me from other eyes. But it was my ticket to learn the truth. Now I know how they make their poison. Now I know that my best friend has been helping them. I’d recognise the Dragon’s Bane plant anywhere. Her family’s safety bought with a bunch of thorny leaves, berries, and roots at the expense of ours. I want to throw myself at her. Claw at her. Curse her for being a traitor and murderer.  

The Nithin steps closer in order to see my face, but a mask of white clay hides my features. A ball of paper wrapped around a dragon tear buys me time as I throw it on the cobbles and let it pour forth a veil of acrid smoke. Panic grips the closest people and I run with the knowledge of how to save my people. No longer will people accept the Nithin and their magical hold on life and death here in Agraver.  

We’ll be free. 

The Beggar. CC2.0 photo by Foto_Michel.

Flash Fiction: We’ll Be Free

This flash piece was also written for the 10 April Flash!Friday competition. For once this is a more upbeat piece! 

The world in which it takes place is Airtha – with a bit of the Ruon and Nithin thrown in. 

We’ll Be Free

I know the Nithin can see me where I’m sitting on the corner of the street. It was foolishly stupid of me to sneak so close when I know they can spot me - even though the shadow cloak worked with charms of invisibility hides me from other eyes. But it was my ticket to learn the truth. Now I know how they make their poison. Now I know that my best friend has been helping them. I’d recognise the Dragon’s Bane plant anywhere. Her family’s safety bought with a bunch of thorny leaves, berries, and roots at the expense of ours. I want to throw myself at her. Claw at her. Curse her for being a traitor and murderer.  

The Nithin steps closer in order to see my face, but a mask of white clay hides my features. A ball of paper wrapped around a dragon tear buys me time as I throw it on the cobbles and let it pour forth a veil of acrid smoke. Panic grips the closest people and I run with the knowledge of how to save my people. No longer will people accept the Nithin and their magical hold on life and death here in Agraver.  

We’ll be free. 

The Beggar. CC2.0 photo by Foto_Michel.

Flash Fiction: Twisted Time

This piece was written for the 10 April Flash!Friday competition. The prompts were “spy” and the photo. In this one I also experimented a bit with formatting. 

The Beggar. CC2.0 photo by Foto_Michel.

Twisted Time

I don’t know where I am. The place looks familiar in a time-twisted sort of way. The shop over there should be the bakery. The sweet shop across from me. But they’re gone, suddenly, disappeared overnight. Someone came to change everything. 

“Crazy crone,” someone mutters as they walk past.

Why is the sweet shop selling gambling tickets? 

I want to play, but I feel drained. My mind feels strange. Someone changed everything. 

Something clicks. 

I wonder why I’m sitting on the cobbles. I should be at home where it’s warm. In my hand is a piece of chalk. Next to me, in a cup, more pieces. There’s a picture on the cobbles of a house with a tree and a family. It looks like it was drawn by a child, but I don’t see any children close by. 

My fingers are covered in coloured chalk dust.

What on Earth am I doing here?

I don’t know where I am. The sweet shop is gone, but I have chalk to draw with. None of the other kids want to play with me. 

A beautiful lady in a silver dress comes to sit next to me. 

Something clicks. 

“Time,” I ask. “What have you done to me?”

View image | gettyimages.com

Flash Fiction : Sand of the Gods

This flash piece was written for the 3 April Flash!Friday weekly competition. The prompts were the photo and “blunder”. 

Sand of the Gods

The gods’ mountain towered in the desert, spilling sand from its peak. In hidden furnaces the glass life-shell hourglasses of mortals were formed before being sent into the scorching sun to be filled with the falling sand. And the Fillers at the foot of the mountain became immortal as life seeped from the sand into their pores.

He poured a few grains into a tiny glass and handed it to the sightless Gatherer. He knew what such a tiny hourglass meant – mother and child would run out of time together. At his age he could no longer stop the tears. Knowing how much time a person had to live wasn’t right. Just last week they’d filled thousands of life-shells belonging to those who’d all die in the same war.

How many glasses had he filled of people who would die in their sleep?

That night he scooped sand into a bag, swung it over his shoulder, and headed out to where the Gatherers kept the hourglasses.

Rows upon rows of life-shells were hidden inside the Gatherers’ caves. He took the first hourglass and added more sand. When he came to the tenth, the hourglasses rattled, cracked and then one after the other exploded.

He dropped the sand. And ran.  

It’s April and I’m Going Camping… Sort Of

Camp Nanowrimo is here!

View image | gettyimages.com

So, while I’ll be sharing a cabin with some other fantasy writers from around the world (how cool is that, and just one reason to love the internet), I’ll still have all my amenities, Sir T walking over my keyboard to remind me to take a break, and my usual writing coffee shop close by. I wrote a large part of my thesis there as well, so the waiters are used to me spacing out after a while between piles of papers or notebooks!

I’ve set my word count at 10 000 words for April and I’m planning on doing some serious outlining with regard to the specific stories I’m planning to write. And filling in the blank name spaces with names. You can’t very well have queen *** and her brother *** who led the golden age of the kingdom of Ezankhall, now can you?

Besides the major worldbuilding overhaul, I’ve also finished a map of Airtha with which I’m happy for the most part. (I’ll post this next week.)

I won’t be spending all my time on preparing for novel(s) though, as I also have a writing competition I want to enter (and I still need to write the story) and I want to do some shorter pieces in Afrikaans as well – along with my normal article writing and day job.

So, without any further ado, I will plunge into April!