NanoWriMo story: Kalon: Chapter one
Because a few people have expressed interest in reading my NanoWriMo story, I'm posting the first chapter and a part of chapter two. Please give me any constructive feedback you may have; in fact, they would be very much appreciated.
Kalon
Chapter One
“Over the Edge”
Kalon woke with a start, eyes flying open to darkness. It had only been a nightmare. Always the same one. With a quiet sigh, she got up from her bed and lit a small candle to dress by. It was the first day of winter and the morning chill made her shiver, though she did not know if it was from the cold or from the nightmare. For years, the disturbing dream haunted her, and she could never understand what it all meant. Only that she feared it. Still drowsy from sleep, Kalon slowly pulled on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of long trousers, noticing yet once again that she was growing too tall for them. She sighed. It was bad enough that she was taller than all the girls in the village, but she was starting to get taller than some of the guys, too. It didn’t matter, she reminded herself with a miserable scowl, most guys didn’t even think of her as a woman, anyway. After tying her long hair into a neat ponytail, she laced up her hunting boots and tied a leather pouch to her belt.
Taking care to be as quiet as possible, she slipped past her sleeping mother, whose bed was just a few feet away from her own, and quietly rummaged around the kitchen for breakfast. Their home was small, but it was more than enough for just the two of them. Kalon’s father had died sometime when she was a baby; her mother never spoke about what happened, but Kalon knew that it pained her to remember him, so she never asked. She knew the simple things. She knew that he had been a kind and brave man, a good husband, and that he had named her when she was born. He was a story, more or less. Kalon often liked to pretend that an elven prince or a fairy king had wooed her mother, and they had to be parted because they lived in two different worlds. Their love was strictly forbidden. Perhaps that was why she had no pictures, no memories, nothing. Except his eyes. Kalon had his eyes. Sometimes, a sad look of longing would pass over her mother’s face when she looked at Kalon, and she knew that her mother saw father in her eyes.
Besides having dark brown eyes and being nearly a whole head taller, Kalon looked like her mother in almost every possible way: hair as black as ink, a smile that dimpled the cheeks, and a clear, kind face. And because her mother was still quite young, the villagers often teased them for looking more like sisters than mother and daughter. Though, as alike as they were in looks, Kalon was more like her father in spirit, or so her mother would say. Her mother was a talented healer, gifted in the art of medicine. Kalon knew a few herbs and remedies, but her skills never extended far beyond the basics. Like her father, she was far more talented in hunting and riding. That was why she woke up in the dusk every morning to go hunting and foraging. That was why she was often teased for being more like a boy than a girl, and they always laughed when she haughtily countered that she was a girl and probably better than any stinking boy in the village.
Kalon finished the last of her apple. Before leaving, she gave her mom a quick kiss on the forehead, careful not to wake her, and picked up a light hunting spear on the way out. Uaine looked abandonned in the dusk of morning. The village was isolated at the very western edge of Arrath, sandwhiched between the Tyger Sea and the Great Forest. Insignificant as they were, the Capital never bothered with them, and the villagers liked it that way. She’d heard many stories about the Capital, and none were kind.
It only took Kalon a short walk to reach her hunting grounds, a little ways north of the village and close enough to the sea that she could hear and smell it. She sat in the roomy hollow of a tree, resting the spear beside her. There was plenty of time to hunt later. Sometimes, she just liked to enjoy the crisp air, the smells of nature, the melodic sounds of waking birds. The large forest was as familiar to her as her own tiny home. When she was a small child, her mother would take her to the forest to gather herbs and study various plants. As she grew older, Kalon learned to hunt and carried out her own adventures. She never wandered too far, usually staying in her favorite hunting area, but she’d taken a horse and ridden as far as she could, several times, sometimes coming home as late as nightfall and earning a furious lecture from her mother.
After awhile, Kalon spotted a small boar-most likely still a piglet-as it wandered in front of her, snuffling around a clump of eggberry bushes.
‘How strange,’ thought Kalon. Boars never wandered this close to the village, and she rarely saw them. They normally stayed up further north, near the mountains. Kalon moved from her hiding spot, craning her neck around to see if its mother was around. Fully grown wild boars were two or three times her size, incredibly dangerous, and almost impossible to kill because of their thick skin. They were prone to give chase whenever they saw fit, and a mother boar whose baby was threatened by some gangly girl would most likely find it fit to do so. However, a baby boar was harmless, and she could only imagine what an excellent roast it would make… Especially with some of her mother’s herbs… Kalon’s mouth watered at just the thought.
After seeing no signs of its mother anywhere, Kalon gently picked up her spear and carefully stalked it. She wanted the kill to be utterly quiet and clean, without alerting its mother, or worse--larger predators. She didn’t want to have competition that would probably be more interested in her than the pig. Kalon remembered the few times when she had encountered animals far larger than her and had to run for dear life, going home empty-handed and barely alive.
Kalon nearly leaped up and cheered when the piglet led her to a small clearing where she’d be able to aim perfectly from behind a tall tree. She readied her spear, preparing to throw it when she heard a loud grunt coming from behind her. Kalon froze, gently lowering her spear to the ground, and crouching low. She didn’t have to look to see what was coming. Kalon stayed very still, hoping the mama boar would simply collect her little piglet and leave, but it was a vain hope. With a piercing, angry squeal, the boar charged at her.
Kalon ran fast and hard, never once looking back. She didn’t have to, the piercing squeal followed close behind. As she tore past the trees, Kalon swore underneath her breath. A nasty realization dawned upon her; she’d been too panicked and had led the boar straight to the cliffs. Survival had been her only thought. The cliffs were closer than she’d realized. She could even see the waters through the thick leaves of the trees, and its waves roared thunderously in her ears. She couldn’t risk climbing the trees; she wasn’t fast enough. She’d just have to settle for hiding. Kalon moved quickly, scrambling
among the foliage and ignoring the branches that scratched her bare arms. The boar appeared just as she slid into a small space between a cluster of tall trees. It looked around, trying to sniff out her location, and Kalon could see its sharp, gleaming tusks whenever it jutted its head upwards. She was definitely a goner now. Boars had an excellent sense of smell. How could they not, with that gigantic snout of theirs? Kalon held her breath as it came closer, but she was quickly proven right. It lifted its head and squealed triumphantly, ready to launch itself at her.
There was no doubt about it. She was going to die. Kalon ran for her life, trying to stay as far away from the drop-off as she could. But as luck would have it, she suddenly lost her footing on a small slope and fell forward, crashing through thorny shrubs and underbrush. Then, without warning, the ground seemed to give way beneath her, and she found herself falling, sliding through clumps of dirt until she realized what was happening. Kalon screamed, frantically grabbing at jagged rocks as she fell, but they roughly slipped past her, cutting into her palms as she tore her way down.
Half-sobbing and scared out of her wits, Kalon finally managed to wrap her hands around a strong, knotted tree root. She looked up, relieved that she had not fallen too far down. It would be hard to climb back up, but at least it wasn’t impossible. She saw that the boar was now looking victoriously down at her. If boars could laugh, Kalon knew she’d be hearing it now. It gave a haughty snort and left.
‘Stupid, rotten boar,’ she cursed.
With her heart hammering painfully inside of her chest, Kalon decided to chance it and look down, swallowing hard at the sight. It wasn’t a very steep fall, and she’d have a fighting chance if not for the cluster of sharp rocks that awaited her below. She clutched onto the root tighter, looking around for another one that was higher up. No such luck. How could she climb with no sure footing and nothing else to grab onto? Kalon found herself panicking. Her grip was getting weaker, and she was dangling precariously above turbulent waters and rocks that would kill her upon impact.
‘Don’t panic, Kalon. Don’t you dare panic. It’s what got you into this in the first place,’ thought Kalon. She took a deep, tremulous breath and looked around again, this time spotting a sturdier root a few feet above her. Grunting with effort, she reached for it, but her fingers could barely grasp onto it. Her arms trembled from exertion. She tried again and again, but her fingers never reached it. It seemed hopeless.
“Help!” Kalon screamed. “Somebody! Help me!”
She knew she couldn’t be that far from the village. Someone might hear her. It was possible. She yelled several more times, nearly crying when one of her hand slipped. She managed to grab onto the root again, but Kalon felt herself growing tired. No, it was impossible. The crashing of the waves drowned out all her pleas. Still, she had to do something. With one hand still barely hanging on, Kalon began to swing her body gently, trying to gain enough momentum to catch the other root. Back and forth… Back and forth...Kalon let out a snarl of frustration. Her fingertips could now touch the root, but just barely. Not enough to grab hold. She panted from the effort, fearing that her current hold was slipping more and more with each second.
“Help!” cried Kalon, though it was a feeble attempt now. She knew nobody could hear her. Not over the clash of the waves.
“Hang on!”
Kalon’s eyes widened. Was that--was she hearing things? She had barely even heard it. Not daring to hope, Kalon tentatively cried out again.
“I-I’m coming, hang on!”
The voice was clearer now. Closer. It was a man’s voice, and young, by the sound of it. She felt relief swell inside her chest. Kalon waited, shouting for help every once in awhile so that he could follow her voice.
“There you are!”
Kalon looked up, but it was not a man she saw. It was a tiger, its great big head peered at her over the cliff. Suddenly remembering her mother’s stories about the Capital and its shape-shifting citizens, she wondered why the tiger seemed so familiar to her. It stalk back and forth as it studied her, its powerful muscles rippling with every movement. Then, it stopped directly above her, and she saw its mouth move.
“Take my hand,” it seemed to say.
Kalon
Chapter Two
“Mother”
Kalon blinked. She was hallucinating. She’d fallen, and she was having one of those near death experiences. Or else, none of this would have made sense.
“Take my hand!” the tiger roared.
The majestic creature started to blur in her vision, the amber color of its fur blending in with its bold, black stripes before another image formed. It flickered for a moment, then settled into another form. This time, she saw a boy. He looked to be about her age, with dark, dusty blond hair and eyes as golden as the sun.
“Hurry! Take my hand!” he urged.
Reality slammed into Kalon. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She reached out as far as she could and grabbed his hand. Only, Kalon found that she hadn’t; her hand had passed right through his, as if he were nothing more than a ghost. Fearing that it really had been just her imagination, she watched as his image wavered, his body fragmented and slowly disappeared in smoky wisps of air. And then he was gone, as if he was never there at all. She was close to despairing when she abruptly noticed that, instead of his hand, she had managed to grab hold of the other root. Momentarily forgetting her vision, Kalon let out a whoop of victory and quickly began to pull herself up. Now all she had to do was make the short climb. Her muscles ached and screamed with every movement, but she managed it. Kalon was thankful for all the years of tree-climbing that had strengthened her upper body. With half of her body over the top, she grabbed onto a clump of green and brown growth that was firmly embedded within the soil, and hoisted herself onto safe ground.
She collapsed in an exhausted heap, lying on her back and staring at the bright sky. A small bubble of laughter fell from her lips. Kalon was giddy with relief. She felt like she had just cheated death somehow, then suddenly remembered the strange tiger and the boy it had transformed into. She was sure, now, that he had only been the result of her imagination and desperation, but she couldn’t help but feel as though the boy had actually saved her.
OH. P.S. What you read has been unedited, unproofed, etc. Sorry, but it was for NanoWriMo, so I didn't edit it at all and just kept on writing. Also, I have no idea what's up with the formatting. *___* LOL Stupid rich text.
Kalon
Chapter One
“Over the Edge”
Kalon woke with a start, eyes flying open to darkness. It had only been a nightmare. Always the same one. With a quiet sigh, she got up from her bed and lit a small candle to dress by. It was the first day of winter and the morning chill made her shiver, though she did not know if it was from the cold or from the nightmare. For years, the disturbing dream haunted her, and she could never understand what it all meant. Only that she feared it. Still drowsy from sleep, Kalon slowly pulled on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of long trousers, noticing yet once again that she was growing too tall for them. She sighed. It was bad enough that she was taller than all the girls in the village, but she was starting to get taller than some of the guys, too. It didn’t matter, she reminded herself with a miserable scowl, most guys didn’t even think of her as a woman, anyway. After tying her long hair into a neat ponytail, she laced up her hunting boots and tied a leather pouch to her belt.
Taking care to be as quiet as possible, she slipped past her sleeping mother, whose bed was just a few feet away from her own, and quietly rummaged around the kitchen for breakfast. Their home was small, but it was more than enough for just the two of them. Kalon’s father had died sometime when she was a baby; her mother never spoke about what happened, but Kalon knew that it pained her to remember him, so she never asked. She knew the simple things. She knew that he had been a kind and brave man, a good husband, and that he had named her when she was born. He was a story, more or less. Kalon often liked to pretend that an elven prince or a fairy king had wooed her mother, and they had to be parted because they lived in two different worlds. Their love was strictly forbidden. Perhaps that was why she had no pictures, no memories, nothing. Except his eyes. Kalon had his eyes. Sometimes, a sad look of longing would pass over her mother’s face when she looked at Kalon, and she knew that her mother saw father in her eyes.
Besides having dark brown eyes and being nearly a whole head taller, Kalon looked like her mother in almost every possible way: hair as black as ink, a smile that dimpled the cheeks, and a clear, kind face. And because her mother was still quite young, the villagers often teased them for looking more like sisters than mother and daughter. Though, as alike as they were in looks, Kalon was more like her father in spirit, or so her mother would say. Her mother was a talented healer, gifted in the art of medicine. Kalon knew a few herbs and remedies, but her skills never extended far beyond the basics. Like her father, she was far more talented in hunting and riding. That was why she woke up in the dusk every morning to go hunting and foraging. That was why she was often teased for being more like a boy than a girl, and they always laughed when she haughtily countered that she was a girl and probably better than any stinking boy in the village.
Kalon finished the last of her apple. Before leaving, she gave her mom a quick kiss on the forehead, careful not to wake her, and picked up a light hunting spear on the way out. Uaine looked abandonned in the dusk of morning. The village was isolated at the very western edge of Arrath, sandwhiched between the Tyger Sea and the Great Forest. Insignificant as they were, the Capital never bothered with them, and the villagers liked it that way. She’d heard many stories about the Capital, and none were kind.
It only took Kalon a short walk to reach her hunting grounds, a little ways north of the village and close enough to the sea that she could hear and smell it. She sat in the roomy hollow of a tree, resting the spear beside her. There was plenty of time to hunt later. Sometimes, she just liked to enjoy the crisp air, the smells of nature, the melodic sounds of waking birds. The large forest was as familiar to her as her own tiny home. When she was a small child, her mother would take her to the forest to gather herbs and study various plants. As she grew older, Kalon learned to hunt and carried out her own adventures. She never wandered too far, usually staying in her favorite hunting area, but she’d taken a horse and ridden as far as she could, several times, sometimes coming home as late as nightfall and earning a furious lecture from her mother.
After awhile, Kalon spotted a small boar-most likely still a piglet-as it wandered in front of her, snuffling around a clump of eggberry bushes.
‘How strange,’ thought Kalon. Boars never wandered this close to the village, and she rarely saw them. They normally stayed up further north, near the mountains. Kalon moved from her hiding spot, craning her neck around to see if its mother was around. Fully grown wild boars were two or three times her size, incredibly dangerous, and almost impossible to kill because of their thick skin. They were prone to give chase whenever they saw fit, and a mother boar whose baby was threatened by some gangly girl would most likely find it fit to do so. However, a baby boar was harmless, and she could only imagine what an excellent roast it would make… Especially with some of her mother’s herbs… Kalon’s mouth watered at just the thought.
After seeing no signs of its mother anywhere, Kalon gently picked up her spear and carefully stalked it. She wanted the kill to be utterly quiet and clean, without alerting its mother, or worse--larger predators. She didn’t want to have competition that would probably be more interested in her than the pig. Kalon remembered the few times when she had encountered animals far larger than her and had to run for dear life, going home empty-handed and barely alive.
Kalon nearly leaped up and cheered when the piglet led her to a small clearing where she’d be able to aim perfectly from behind a tall tree. She readied her spear, preparing to throw it when she heard a loud grunt coming from behind her. Kalon froze, gently lowering her spear to the ground, and crouching low. She didn’t have to look to see what was coming. Kalon stayed very still, hoping the mama boar would simply collect her little piglet and leave, but it was a vain hope. With a piercing, angry squeal, the boar charged at her.
Kalon ran fast and hard, never once looking back. She didn’t have to, the piercing squeal followed close behind. As she tore past the trees, Kalon swore underneath her breath. A nasty realization dawned upon her; she’d been too panicked and had led the boar straight to the cliffs. Survival had been her only thought. The cliffs were closer than she’d realized. She could even see the waters through the thick leaves of the trees, and its waves roared thunderously in her ears. She couldn’t risk climbing the trees; she wasn’t fast enough. She’d just have to settle for hiding. Kalon moved quickly, scrambling
among the foliage and ignoring the branches that scratched her bare arms. The boar appeared just as she slid into a small space between a cluster of tall trees. It looked around, trying to sniff out her location, and Kalon could see its sharp, gleaming tusks whenever it jutted its head upwards. She was definitely a goner now. Boars had an excellent sense of smell. How could they not, with that gigantic snout of theirs? Kalon held her breath as it came closer, but she was quickly proven right. It lifted its head and squealed triumphantly, ready to launch itself at her.
There was no doubt about it. She was going to die. Kalon ran for her life, trying to stay as far away from the drop-off as she could. But as luck would have it, she suddenly lost her footing on a small slope and fell forward, crashing through thorny shrubs and underbrush. Then, without warning, the ground seemed to give way beneath her, and she found herself falling, sliding through clumps of dirt until she realized what was happening. Kalon screamed, frantically grabbing at jagged rocks as she fell, but they roughly slipped past her, cutting into her palms as she tore her way down.
Half-sobbing and scared out of her wits, Kalon finally managed to wrap her hands around a strong, knotted tree root. She looked up, relieved that she had not fallen too far down. It would be hard to climb back up, but at least it wasn’t impossible. She saw that the boar was now looking victoriously down at her. If boars could laugh, Kalon knew she’d be hearing it now. It gave a haughty snort and left.
‘Stupid, rotten boar,’ she cursed.
With her heart hammering painfully inside of her chest, Kalon decided to chance it and look down, swallowing hard at the sight. It wasn’t a very steep fall, and she’d have a fighting chance if not for the cluster of sharp rocks that awaited her below. She clutched onto the root tighter, looking around for another one that was higher up. No such luck. How could she climb with no sure footing and nothing else to grab onto? Kalon found herself panicking. Her grip was getting weaker, and she was dangling precariously above turbulent waters and rocks that would kill her upon impact.
‘Don’t panic, Kalon. Don’t you dare panic. It’s what got you into this in the first place,’ thought Kalon. She took a deep, tremulous breath and looked around again, this time spotting a sturdier root a few feet above her. Grunting with effort, she reached for it, but her fingers could barely grasp onto it. Her arms trembled from exertion. She tried again and again, but her fingers never reached it. It seemed hopeless.
“Help!” Kalon screamed. “Somebody! Help me!”
She knew she couldn’t be that far from the village. Someone might hear her. It was possible. She yelled several more times, nearly crying when one of her hand slipped. She managed to grab onto the root again, but Kalon felt herself growing tired. No, it was impossible. The crashing of the waves drowned out all her pleas. Still, she had to do something. With one hand still barely hanging on, Kalon began to swing her body gently, trying to gain enough momentum to catch the other root. Back and forth… Back and forth...Kalon let out a snarl of frustration. Her fingertips could now touch the root, but just barely. Not enough to grab hold. She panted from the effort, fearing that her current hold was slipping more and more with each second.
“Help!” cried Kalon, though it was a feeble attempt now. She knew nobody could hear her. Not over the clash of the waves.
“Hang on!”
Kalon’s eyes widened. Was that--was she hearing things? She had barely even heard it. Not daring to hope, Kalon tentatively cried out again.
“I-I’m coming, hang on!”
The voice was clearer now. Closer. It was a man’s voice, and young, by the sound of it. She felt relief swell inside her chest. Kalon waited, shouting for help every once in awhile so that he could follow her voice.
“There you are!”
Kalon looked up, but it was not a man she saw. It was a tiger, its great big head peered at her over the cliff. Suddenly remembering her mother’s stories about the Capital and its shape-shifting citizens, she wondered why the tiger seemed so familiar to her. It stalk back and forth as it studied her, its powerful muscles rippling with every movement. Then, it stopped directly above her, and she saw its mouth move.
“Take my hand,” it seemed to say.
Kalon
Chapter Two
“Mother”
Kalon blinked. She was hallucinating. She’d fallen, and she was having one of those near death experiences. Or else, none of this would have made sense.
“Take my hand!” the tiger roared.
The majestic creature started to blur in her vision, the amber color of its fur blending in with its bold, black stripes before another image formed. It flickered for a moment, then settled into another form. This time, she saw a boy. He looked to be about her age, with dark, dusty blond hair and eyes as golden as the sun.
“Hurry! Take my hand!” he urged.
Reality slammed into Kalon. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She reached out as far as she could and grabbed his hand. Only, Kalon found that she hadn’t; her hand had passed right through his, as if he were nothing more than a ghost. Fearing that it really had been just her imagination, she watched as his image wavered, his body fragmented and slowly disappeared in smoky wisps of air. And then he was gone, as if he was never there at all. She was close to despairing when she abruptly noticed that, instead of his hand, she had managed to grab hold of the other root. Momentarily forgetting her vision, Kalon let out a whoop of victory and quickly began to pull herself up. Now all she had to do was make the short climb. Her muscles ached and screamed with every movement, but she managed it. Kalon was thankful for all the years of tree-climbing that had strengthened her upper body. With half of her body over the top, she grabbed onto a clump of green and brown growth that was firmly embedded within the soil, and hoisted herself onto safe ground.
She collapsed in an exhausted heap, lying on her back and staring at the bright sky. A small bubble of laughter fell from her lips. Kalon was giddy with relief. She felt like she had just cheated death somehow, then suddenly remembered the strange tiger and the boy it had transformed into. She was sure, now, that he had only been the result of her imagination and desperation, but she couldn’t help but feel as though the boy had actually saved her.
OH. P.S. What you read has been unedited, unproofed, etc. Sorry, but it was for NanoWriMo, so I didn't edit it at all and just kept on writing. Also, I have no idea what's up with the formatting. *___* LOL Stupid rich text.