Extra Stuff
Don’t Keep Secrets is over.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6165727/16/Dont_Keep_Secrets
O_o
It’s a bit weird.
Just a bit.
Anyways, I was flipping through my notebook which contained the original draft of the story from way back in February 2009. So many things ended up getting changed or even just left out completely, either because something changed in the story that caused them never to have happened, because they didn’t fit into the flow of the story, or because they weren’t good. Most of them will never be typed. Ever. And for good reason.
But there are two that I kind of miss, and wish that had been in it, but they never fit.
So I’ve decided to post them here. Kind of like a bonus feature on a DVD. I don’t know if anyone will read this, but I kind of figured, “Why not?’
****
Alternate Prologue: Arella
This was actually the second version of the prologue. The first was written back when my knowledge of Azarath was minimal, so I wrote it completely wrong, featuring a group of Azarathian warriors. Afterwards, however, I managed to locate an issue of Teen Titans in my library, which happened to be the issue that had Beast Boy, Cyborg, Starfire, and Raven’s various backstories, along with more information on the pacifistic realm that is Azarath. It really influenced both this alternate prologue and the Raven dream sequences, and Azar’s characterization in the story, not to mention the Cyborg’s nightmare sequence and some of Beast Boy’s fears.
****
Arella stared, feeling horror sink in as she stared as Azarath burned.
The walls of the monastery weren’t protection enough from the blaze that the Nightmare Child had started up. Arella raised her eyes to the sky, longing to see stars there, so that she wouldn’t have to look at the city that she loved as it burned. But there were no stars in Azarath.
The door behind her opened, and Azar swept in.
“Azar!” Arella bowed deeply, as was the instinct that had been installed in her ever since she had arrived in this dimension.
“No time for that now,” Azar said sharply. “The defenses have been breached. The Nightmare Child and its mistress are coming. The monastery will burn.”
“Then you should be defending the mirrors!” Arella cried out, knowing she was breaking every code of social conduct to speak so to Azar. “Azar, if they get their hands on the mirrors!”
“Nothing will happen,” Azar said, looking almost smug. “Not unless they can read the time stream out of a pile of broken glass.”
Arella gripped the wall for support. “You broke the mirrors?”
“They will follow me into the next world,” Azar said, completely dismissive of how she had just destroyed an ancient artifact of immense power. “Now, did you fetch the items I requested?”
Still shocked, Arella opened her hand, revealing the lock of purple hair and the gold locket. Azar snapped it open, smiling slightly as she
looked at the picture of the young Raven.
“You kept this?” Azar asked.
“A mother’s fancy,” Arella said, flushing. She had not been supposed to connect with Raven, but she had never been able to help herself.
“It is alright, Arella,” Azar said softly. “This should be more than enough. With Raven’s empathic abilities, the link should be easy enough to establish-”
The entire building shook. Azar looked up at her.
“It is time.”
Arella started to bow, but Azar stopped her, pulling her into a hug. “I shall see you in the next world, child.”
Arella looked at her mentor in shock. “Azar…”
“You need to give Raven this,” Azar said, handing her one of the rings she wore. “Pass on the messages. And you need to be careful! If the mirror was correct, she could be in severe danger when she receives the message-”
The building shook, longer and more severe.
“You have done well, Arella.” Azar said, smiling. “You are a child of Azarath. It is a great pleasure to die with you by my side again.”
“Only this time, we shall not come back,” Arella said softly.
“No. And perhaps it is better that way,” Azar replied with a laugh, spreading her arms wide.
The door burst open, and a monster entered the room.
Deleted Scene: The Nightmare Child
This is what Jericho originally saw when he possessed the Nightmare Child during his nightmare sequence. But it didn’t flow quite right, so I changed it.
****
Lonna peered out from behind the silken curtains that hid her and the litter’s other occupants from the rest of the tribe. A hand seized her, and hauled her back.
“Stay still!” Kimir ordered, scowling at the younger girl. Lonna merely beamed up at her. The five year old clearly failed to understand the importance of their task.
“Why the priests thought you would make a good servant of the Nightmare is beyond me,” Kimir said, tossing her long, beautiful hair over her shoulder. Lonna longed to grab it to twist into pretty braids, like she would with Mother’s hair. But she knew that Kimir would only scold her again. Kimir scolded her a lot.
Lonna fiddled with the sacred amulet around her neck. The crest was made of solid gold, hammered carefully, embossed with symbols as old as her tribe.
“Which one chose you?” said Lonna, scooting forward. Kimir’s beautiful eyes flashed.
“I am a servant of the Water Mage!” Kimir snapped, pulling her own sacred amulet out from the layers of silken robes that she wore. The brasswork was intricate, with a single crystal in the middle to symbolize the purity of water.
“Wow,” Lonna said. She loved the Water Mage’s festivals, with the huge ceremonies and the dancing and the music. The Nightmare’s festivals tended to scare her. She wondered if she would have to go to more of them, now that the priests had told her parents that she was a chosen one.
So far, Lonna didn’t like being a chosen one. It meant she didn’t get to see Mother or Father, or play with her friends. It meant she had to go around in the litter and wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone who wasn’t another chosen one.
“Will I get to go home soon?” she whined, trying to look through the silk to see who was watching as they passed.
Kimir twitched. “The temple is your home, you ungrateful little beast!”
“The temple smells funny,” Lonna said, frowning.
“That’s incense!” Kimir burst. “I can’t believe you! You get to be chosen to serve the Nightmare, at the age of five, and all you want to do is go back to your parents and play in the sand! Do you have any idea how happy you should be?”
Lonna stuck out her lip. “I don’t care. I miss my home.”
Kimir looked like she was about to strangle her.
The litter made the familiar thump that it always made when the litter-bearers set it down. Lonna dashed out, despite knowing that she ought to let Kimir exit first, out of politeness. But that was one of the things that she did that Kimir didn’t seem to mind.
Lonna raced through the temple, grinning as she passed the various shrines. She paused outside of Sand Dweller’s to leave some of the stones she’d found that day, but then quickly continued to the courtyard, where she would be able to find the other chosen one’s that were her age. There was still time for a game or two before it was time for evening prayers.
“Acolyte Lonna!” the Nightmare’s chief priest called as she passed the Nightmare’s altar. She paused, wondering if it would be worth losing her supper to ignore him. She sighed as she looked at the Nightmare’s altar. Made of dark wood, and inlayed with gold and the opals that the merchants brought from the east, all twisted to resemble a horrible face, screaming in agony. The face of the Nightmare.
“Coming,” she called, making the appropriate sweeping bow to the altar, her robe sleeves scraping the sand as she did so.
The priest tapped his arm impatiently as she scurried towards him, beaming.
“Acolyte Lonna,” he said. “Are you intending to join us in the Nightmare’s ceremonies tonight?”
“I didn’t think I could,” she replied honestly. She was supposed to be too young for the ceremonies.
“Not for tonight’s,” he said, patting her shoulder. “It’s an eclipse tonight. All acolytes of the Nightmare must attend.”
“Oh,” Lonna said, face falling. “Yes sir. I will be there, then.”
“Scurry on to supper. And no dawdling!” the man said, forcing a smile as he patted her head.
Lonna scowled. There was no way she’d be able to get in a game of tug-of-war now.
After supper, Lonna went to the Nightmare’s shrine, knowing she would be the last one there.
“Sit there, Lonna,” the chief priest said, gesturing to a spot in the middle of the circle.
“Yes sir,” she said, sitting down.
Another acolyte, this one a gangly teenaged man with spots on his face came up to her, and started drawing on her face. Lonna giggled. “It tickles,” she told him.
“Come to us, on this night of fear and dreams, oh dark one,” the acolyte whispered, forcing her eyes closed so he could spread the paste on her eyelids. “Hear our cry for you, bringer of fear. Take for yourself this child, chosen for you. Her life for yours, oh dark one. Nightmare, hear our plea!”
Lonna didn’t understand why they were so quiet. She didn’t understand why she felt so cold. She wanted to go find her friends. Late night ballgames were fun.
“Oh seer of fears,” the chief priest intoned as the acolyte scurried back. Lonna could only hear him, since the paste on her eyes seemed to have pasted them shut. “Come to us, on this, your sacred night.”
“This insignificant child, your chosen one, offers herself up for you,” another priestess said. A smell filled the air. More incense?
“Take our fears, oh Nightmare. Make us your fearless warriors. Give us your greatest gift… give us courage!” another man declared, throwing a powder into the air that settled on Lonna. Lonna sneezed.
“Dark one! Come to us!” the chief priest yelled again. “Come to us!”
A strange feeling filled the air, and Lonna felt peaceful. She felt brave.
This must be it, Lonna though, ecstatic. The warrior ceremony. Warriors would have their fear drawn away by the Nightmare. She was helping with this!
The chanting filled the room, and Lonna started shivering. She felt cold, which was odd. It was far too early to feel the late night chill…
Her eyes snapped open. She could sense something weird. Something wasn’t going right. Screams filled the air.
She saw the fire. She didn’t know how it had started, but it was everywhere. She tried to get to her feet, but found that she couldn’t.
“Don’t panic!” the chief priest yelled. “Anto kneele jorrona parta nostponte!” Symbols filled the air, spinning in random patterns, trying to ward off the fire, and Lonna shrunk back from them. They were burning, like the fire, far too bright. She had to get out of here! She jumped to her feet, trying to run. One of the symbols collided with her, searing her robes, and merging with the sacred amulet. Lonna screamed.
The priests and acolytes screamed.
The fire screamed.
Lonna screamed with the voice of a monster.
The monster screamed with the voice of Lonna.
The fear, the fear that had filled the symbols, the fear that the priests were drawing out of themselves, the fear that they had been drawing out of her, the fear of the entire temple, pulled at Lonna.
Lonna screamed again, or was it the monster that screamed?
She could feel their fear. So strong, so pure…
It felt good.
Lonna felt something push her aside. She turned, and saw a dark monster sitting right beside her, smiling.
“Who are you?” she asked, terrified.
“I am fear,” the monster said. “You invited me.” It reached out, and pressed a hand against her temple.
Lonna stopped breathing.
Lonna stopped being.
The Nightmare Child began.
****
As much as I liked the whole Lonna thing, it wasn't that hard to convince myself to delete it. Too much unnecessary detail. And, to clarify: Lonna is not the Nightmare Child. The Nightmare Child is Lonna's childishness + all the fears of an entire temple + a lot of magic.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6165727/16/Dont_Keep_Secrets
O_o
It’s a bit weird.
Just a bit.
Anyways, I was flipping through my notebook which contained the original draft of the story from way back in February 2009. So many things ended up getting changed or even just left out completely, either because something changed in the story that caused them never to have happened, because they didn’t fit into the flow of the story, or because they weren’t good. Most of them will never be typed. Ever. And for good reason.
But there are two that I kind of miss, and wish that had been in it, but they never fit.
So I’ve decided to post them here. Kind of like a bonus feature on a DVD. I don’t know if anyone will read this, but I kind of figured, “Why not?’
****
Alternate Prologue: Arella
This was actually the second version of the prologue. The first was written back when my knowledge of Azarath was minimal, so I wrote it completely wrong, featuring a group of Azarathian warriors. Afterwards, however, I managed to locate an issue of Teen Titans in my library, which happened to be the issue that had Beast Boy, Cyborg, Starfire, and Raven’s various backstories, along with more information on the pacifistic realm that is Azarath. It really influenced both this alternate prologue and the Raven dream sequences, and Azar’s characterization in the story, not to mention the Cyborg’s nightmare sequence and some of Beast Boy’s fears.
****
Arella stared, feeling horror sink in as she stared as Azarath burned.
The walls of the monastery weren’t protection enough from the blaze that the Nightmare Child had started up. Arella raised her eyes to the sky, longing to see stars there, so that she wouldn’t have to look at the city that she loved as it burned. But there were no stars in Azarath.
The door behind her opened, and Azar swept in.
“Azar!” Arella bowed deeply, as was the instinct that had been installed in her ever since she had arrived in this dimension.
“No time for that now,” Azar said sharply. “The defenses have been breached. The Nightmare Child and its mistress are coming. The monastery will burn.”
“Then you should be defending the mirrors!” Arella cried out, knowing she was breaking every code of social conduct to speak so to Azar. “Azar, if they get their hands on the mirrors!”
“Nothing will happen,” Azar said, looking almost smug. “Not unless they can read the time stream out of a pile of broken glass.”
Arella gripped the wall for support. “You broke the mirrors?”
“They will follow me into the next world,” Azar said, completely dismissive of how she had just destroyed an ancient artifact of immense power. “Now, did you fetch the items I requested?”
Still shocked, Arella opened her hand, revealing the lock of purple hair and the gold locket. Azar snapped it open, smiling slightly as she
looked at the picture of the young Raven.
“You kept this?” Azar asked.
“A mother’s fancy,” Arella said, flushing. She had not been supposed to connect with Raven, but she had never been able to help herself.
“It is alright, Arella,” Azar said softly. “This should be more than enough. With Raven’s empathic abilities, the link should be easy enough to establish-”
The entire building shook. Azar looked up at her.
“It is time.”
Arella started to bow, but Azar stopped her, pulling her into a hug. “I shall see you in the next world, child.”
Arella looked at her mentor in shock. “Azar…”
“You need to give Raven this,” Azar said, handing her one of the rings she wore. “Pass on the messages. And you need to be careful! If the mirror was correct, she could be in severe danger when she receives the message-”
The building shook, longer and more severe.
“You have done well, Arella.” Azar said, smiling. “You are a child of Azarath. It is a great pleasure to die with you by my side again.”
“Only this time, we shall not come back,” Arella said softly.
“No. And perhaps it is better that way,” Azar replied with a laugh, spreading her arms wide.
The door burst open, and a monster entered the room.
Deleted Scene: The Nightmare Child
This is what Jericho originally saw when he possessed the Nightmare Child during his nightmare sequence. But it didn’t flow quite right, so I changed it.
****
Lonna peered out from behind the silken curtains that hid her and the litter’s other occupants from the rest of the tribe. A hand seized her, and hauled her back.
“Stay still!” Kimir ordered, scowling at the younger girl. Lonna merely beamed up at her. The five year old clearly failed to understand the importance of their task.
“Why the priests thought you would make a good servant of the Nightmare is beyond me,” Kimir said, tossing her long, beautiful hair over her shoulder. Lonna longed to grab it to twist into pretty braids, like she would with Mother’s hair. But she knew that Kimir would only scold her again. Kimir scolded her a lot.
Lonna fiddled with the sacred amulet around her neck. The crest was made of solid gold, hammered carefully, embossed with symbols as old as her tribe.
“Which one chose you?” said Lonna, scooting forward. Kimir’s beautiful eyes flashed.
“I am a servant of the Water Mage!” Kimir snapped, pulling her own sacred amulet out from the layers of silken robes that she wore. The brasswork was intricate, with a single crystal in the middle to symbolize the purity of water.
“Wow,” Lonna said. She loved the Water Mage’s festivals, with the huge ceremonies and the dancing and the music. The Nightmare’s festivals tended to scare her. She wondered if she would have to go to more of them, now that the priests had told her parents that she was a chosen one.
So far, Lonna didn’t like being a chosen one. It meant she didn’t get to see Mother or Father, or play with her friends. It meant she had to go around in the litter and wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone who wasn’t another chosen one.
“Will I get to go home soon?” she whined, trying to look through the silk to see who was watching as they passed.
Kimir twitched. “The temple is your home, you ungrateful little beast!”
“The temple smells funny,” Lonna said, frowning.
“That’s incense!” Kimir burst. “I can’t believe you! You get to be chosen to serve the Nightmare, at the age of five, and all you want to do is go back to your parents and play in the sand! Do you have any idea how happy you should be?”
Lonna stuck out her lip. “I don’t care. I miss my home.”
Kimir looked like she was about to strangle her.
The litter made the familiar thump that it always made when the litter-bearers set it down. Lonna dashed out, despite knowing that she ought to let Kimir exit first, out of politeness. But that was one of the things that she did that Kimir didn’t seem to mind.
Lonna raced through the temple, grinning as she passed the various shrines. She paused outside of Sand Dweller’s to leave some of the stones she’d found that day, but then quickly continued to the courtyard, where she would be able to find the other chosen one’s that were her age. There was still time for a game or two before it was time for evening prayers.
“Acolyte Lonna!” the Nightmare’s chief priest called as she passed the Nightmare’s altar. She paused, wondering if it would be worth losing her supper to ignore him. She sighed as she looked at the Nightmare’s altar. Made of dark wood, and inlayed with gold and the opals that the merchants brought from the east, all twisted to resemble a horrible face, screaming in agony. The face of the Nightmare.
“Coming,” she called, making the appropriate sweeping bow to the altar, her robe sleeves scraping the sand as she did so.
The priest tapped his arm impatiently as she scurried towards him, beaming.
“Acolyte Lonna,” he said. “Are you intending to join us in the Nightmare’s ceremonies tonight?”
“I didn’t think I could,” she replied honestly. She was supposed to be too young for the ceremonies.
“Not for tonight’s,” he said, patting her shoulder. “It’s an eclipse tonight. All acolytes of the Nightmare must attend.”
“Oh,” Lonna said, face falling. “Yes sir. I will be there, then.”
“Scurry on to supper. And no dawdling!” the man said, forcing a smile as he patted her head.
Lonna scowled. There was no way she’d be able to get in a game of tug-of-war now.
After supper, Lonna went to the Nightmare’s shrine, knowing she would be the last one there.
“Sit there, Lonna,” the chief priest said, gesturing to a spot in the middle of the circle.
“Yes sir,” she said, sitting down.
Another acolyte, this one a gangly teenaged man with spots on his face came up to her, and started drawing on her face. Lonna giggled. “It tickles,” she told him.
“Come to us, on this night of fear and dreams, oh dark one,” the acolyte whispered, forcing her eyes closed so he could spread the paste on her eyelids. “Hear our cry for you, bringer of fear. Take for yourself this child, chosen for you. Her life for yours, oh dark one. Nightmare, hear our plea!”
Lonna didn’t understand why they were so quiet. She didn’t understand why she felt so cold. She wanted to go find her friends. Late night ballgames were fun.
“Oh seer of fears,” the chief priest intoned as the acolyte scurried back. Lonna could only hear him, since the paste on her eyes seemed to have pasted them shut. “Come to us, on this, your sacred night.”
“This insignificant child, your chosen one, offers herself up for you,” another priestess said. A smell filled the air. More incense?
“Take our fears, oh Nightmare. Make us your fearless warriors. Give us your greatest gift… give us courage!” another man declared, throwing a powder into the air that settled on Lonna. Lonna sneezed.
“Dark one! Come to us!” the chief priest yelled again. “Come to us!”
A strange feeling filled the air, and Lonna felt peaceful. She felt brave.
This must be it, Lonna though, ecstatic. The warrior ceremony. Warriors would have their fear drawn away by the Nightmare. She was helping with this!
The chanting filled the room, and Lonna started shivering. She felt cold, which was odd. It was far too early to feel the late night chill…
Her eyes snapped open. She could sense something weird. Something wasn’t going right. Screams filled the air.
She saw the fire. She didn’t know how it had started, but it was everywhere. She tried to get to her feet, but found that she couldn’t.
“Don’t panic!” the chief priest yelled. “Anto kneele jorrona parta nostponte!” Symbols filled the air, spinning in random patterns, trying to ward off the fire, and Lonna shrunk back from them. They were burning, like the fire, far too bright. She had to get out of here! She jumped to her feet, trying to run. One of the symbols collided with her, searing her robes, and merging with the sacred amulet. Lonna screamed.
The priests and acolytes screamed.
The fire screamed.
Lonna screamed with the voice of a monster.
The monster screamed with the voice of Lonna.
The fear, the fear that had filled the symbols, the fear that the priests were drawing out of themselves, the fear that they had been drawing out of her, the fear of the entire temple, pulled at Lonna.
Lonna screamed again, or was it the monster that screamed?
She could feel their fear. So strong, so pure…
It felt good.
Lonna felt something push her aside. She turned, and saw a dark monster sitting right beside her, smiling.
“Who are you?” she asked, terrified.
“I am fear,” the monster said. “You invited me.” It reached out, and pressed a hand against her temple.
Lonna stopped breathing.
Lonna stopped being.
The Nightmare Child began.
****
As much as I liked the whole Lonna thing, it wasn't that hard to convince myself to delete it. Too much unnecessary detail. And, to clarify: Lonna is not the Nightmare Child. The Nightmare Child is Lonna's childishness + all the fears of an entire temple + a lot of magic.