This is mostly a selfish idea, I think. There are times when I want to put a certain excerpt in the Teaser Game, and it would be better if it were longer, but I feel self-conscious about putting something so long. Have you also run into this problem? Never fear! Here, finally, is a Teaser Game featuring the long excerpts of your dreams! There’s a chance I’ll just use this all by myself for a few rounds, which anyone can do.
First word: long (ofc)
Good idea!
From The Princess And Her Servant (rough draft)
That actually was a good question. How to get out of there? There had to be a way, right? Devin tried to recall everything he could about the ravine and remembered that, a long time ago, one of the past rulers had ordered a staircase to be carved into one of its walls. As far as he knew, the staircase was still there. If there was any way to get out of that situation, it would be to go to it.
There was just one problem. The staircase was supposed to be located at the north end of the ravine. At the border of the kingdom. It would take a long time to get to it. A long and potentially dangerous trip… with Princess Spoiled Brat as a travel companion. And that was the last thing Devin wanted. He debated whether or not to tell her about the potential solution and whether or not she would even listen. In the end, he decided that, since he was stuck down there with her anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to at least suggest finding the staircase.
“Princess? Do you remember that history lesson? The one on your ancestor, King Atticus Sophron the second, and his failed attempt to build a vacation home down here?”
“He did not fail! He just didn’t live long enough for the project to continue past— the staircase! There’s a staircase! Thank the gods, I’m saved!”
“You’re welcome,” Devin muttered. He wasn’t expecting her to thank him or even give him credit for the idea. But, it sure would be nice if she did.
“It’s only a little ways south of here! I could get there before sunrise!” And then it was clear that Malarrea had not been paying much attention during that lesson.
New Word: Patience
(Thank you! [name_m]Devin[/name_m] seems lovely 
. Next word?)
Oops! Sorry!
[name_m]New[/name_m] Word: [name_f]Patience[/name_f]
“A new letter for you, sir,” said the floppy-haired messenger. Spyros had yet to learn the poor man’s name. He took the letter roughly and nodded to dismiss him, but the messenger paused for a moment, then took another piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “This one’s for you too.”
“Okay,” said Spyros, nonplussed. “You’re dismissed.” The messenger nodded, bowed, and left. Spyros took the small paper first and turned it over curiously. There are people among the court who worry for your health, it read in an unfamiliar handwriting. You have no heir, so if you are ill, it is advised that you seek medical attention immediately. Your enemies are only people who would take pleasure in a succession war. It was signed ‘Bram’, although Spyros didn’t know anyone by that name. He sighed. He didn’t have the patience for political machinations, not on top of everything else. Well, he could take care of that later, once he had learned what had happened to [name_m]Caleb[/name_m].
Next word: succession
This isn’t exactly a very long excerpt, but unfortunately I don’t have anything longer.
Currently Untitled
“The Succession War had been raging for five long years when [name_f]Brunhilda[/name_f] Boljesky was killed. Her siblings were convinced Roderick’s army was to blame.”
“Is that not the truth?”
“I once swore never to tell a soul about this. But you need to know.”
[name_m]New[/name_m] Word: [name_f]Soul[/name_f]
See, this is how long I mean. Indulgently long. [name_m]Can[/name_m] be as short as you want as well, of course. I just have so many words!
[name_m]Milo[/name_m] screamed again, and his fingernails drew blood across the back of Jem’s hand. He didn’t let go. No matter how much his betrayal had hurt, [name_m]Jem[/name_m] couldn’t bear to hear [name_m]Milo[/name_m] scream like that, like the pain was ripping his soul apart.
“It’s just a couple of broken bones,” [name_f]Saylor[/name_f] muttered at him. “You’ll live.” She held out her hand to [name_m]Jem[/name_m]. “Knife?”
He passed his to her. “Why don’t you have your own?”
“Threw it at a shadow beast,” she explained as she expertly cut away most of Milo’s shirt and the left leg of his pants. [name_m]Milo[/name_m] was going to hate that, once he knew it had happened. Then she removed a jar of black liquid from one of the pockets on her belt and poured it over Milo’s leg and shoulder. As the potion took affect, he released his death grip on Jem’s hand and his skin slowly turned black and translucent, revealing his bones. They didn’t look great, to say the least.
“Whoa,” said [name_m]Jem[/name_m] despite himself. “I’ve never seen human bones before.”
[name_f]Saylor[/name_f] smiled a bit, happy to talk about her weird potions even in the middle of a battlefield. “Technically, these aren’t human bones. But I’d be happy to show you your own also non-human bones sometime under less extreme circumstances. Finding an actual human might be more difficult. Now, Milo’s out of danger, and I’ve got other wounded to attend to. [name_f]Do[/name_f] you think you can carry him back to the van?”
“Doubtful,” [name_m]Jem[/name_m] admitted. “Maybe if he were an owl.”
“That’s a decent idea, actually, provided he can keep the wing immobile.” [name_f]Saylor[/name_f] poked [name_m]Milo[/name_m] very gently on his uninjured arm. “Hey, [name_m]Milo[/name_m]. You awake in there?”
[name_m]Milo[/name_m] groaned, and his glassy eyes refocused with some difficulty on Jem’s face. “Jem?” he mumbled. “What’s happening?”
“Don’t try to move,” [name_f]Saylor[/name_f] warned. “Turn into an owl.”
He nodded slowly. His form shivered, and a snowy owl lay on the ground, his wing folded over his chest. [name_m]Jem[/name_m] lifted him carefully.
“See you after,” [name_f]Saylor[/name_f] told [name_m]Jem[/name_m] as she turned away to help someone else, and he walked away through the dark field with the trembling owl in his arms.
Next word: bones
From The [name_m]Power[/name_m] Of [name_m]Four[/name_m]
“Thanks for helping us.”
“Don’t thank me. Please. That makes this whole thing worse.”
“Oh. We’re so sorry—”
“I’m not! There were bones in that place! So! Many! Bones!”
“Talon! I’m so sorry about him. He’s… interesting.” “Well, thanks to you three very odd creatures, I don’t have a home on [name_m]Gryphon[/name_m] [name_f]Island[/name_f] anymore. If Ashwing ever catches me, he’ll tear me wing from wing and burn my remains on a pyre. I’m dead. I’m a dead Griffin.”
“Can Griffins even start fires? I mean, do they have the ability or—”
“That doesn’t matter!”
“He can’t burn your remains without a fire.”
“Talon!”
“I think Griffins can start fires. I mean, they can hold things in their talons can’t they? So, they should be able to do stuff similar to people. Right?”
“Fine. To answer your question, we can.”
“Are you good at starting fires? 'Cause, you know, your name is Fireclaw?”
“Um… no! No, Shecanae, I’m not! Actually, I’m terrible at that! The utmost worst!”
“Then why’re you called Fireclaw instead of something normal like Bunnysnatcher or Falconface?”
“No [name_m]Griffin[/name_m] in history has been named Falconface! That’s not a [name_m]Griffin[/name_m] name! And Bunnysnatcher is always given to girls!”
[name_m]New[/name_m] Word: Remains (in any context)
“Zombies are terrified of fire!” the doctor shouted triumphantly, pouring gasoline over Edmund’s coat.
[name_f][/name_f]“Gross!” [name_m]Edmund[/name_m] shouted. “That’s my favorite coat, you monster!” Paranoid though he may be, the doctor was right about the innate fear of fire that the undead had. The gasoline was unnecessary–as soon as the lit matches touched Edmund’s skin, he would be obliterated. Not even bones would remain to mark the fact that he had ever existed. [name_m]Edmund[/name_m] began tapping out “burning at stake send help” in Morse code on his earpiece. He wasn’t sure what [name_f]Blue[/name_f] would do with that, but he hoped she’d take it seriously. It occurred to him that maybe garnering a reputation for playing pranks with his earpiece hadn’t been the best idea.
[name_f][/name_f]“Yeah!” shouted a nurse in a blue coat. “Burn him! That’s the way!”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Edmund[/name_m] sighed as theatrically as he dared. “You can’t even catch the plague! You’re alive!” He considered. “Or you’re a terrible hypocrite. One of those!”
[name_f][/name_f]The nurse booed at him, then began calling for a torch. Shit[name_f][/name_f], they were actually taking this seriously. There was actual fire heading towards him at an actual steady pace. He’d be incinerated within a minute. He started tapping “help” repeatedly as quickly as he could while still remaining legible. Come on, [name_f]Blue[/name_f][name_f][/name_f], he thought. If she gets me out of this, she gets a whole week free of theatrical sighs.[name_f][/name_f] He doubted he could actually make that happen, but he also doubted he was getting out of this.
Next word: incinerated (or, if you don’t have that, fire)
From the 7th Book In [name_f]My[/name_f] First Dragon Series (all character names are most likely temporary):
[name_f][/name_f]“He didn’t even ask my name.”
[name_f][/name_f]“Don’t take it personally. He’s just distracted, that’s all.”
[name_f][/name_f]“Why did you stop me from telling him the truth? Volcano would never hurt me.”
[name_f][/name_f]“The [name_m]Fire[/name_m] Dragon who raised you?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Yes.”
[name_f][/name_f]“You don’t know what really happened, do you?”
[name_f][/name_f]“What really happened?”
[name_f][/name_f]“The day you were taken, our mother, Icicle, took you for a flight. She never returned. Father found her two days later, half buried in the snow. Dead. Her wing was badly charred and her neck was broken. A [name_m]Fire[/name_m] Dragon had killed her.”
[name_f][/name_f]“No. Volcano would never.”
[name_f][/name_f]“I don’t know. But it’s best not to speak fondly of the [name_m]Fire[/name_m] Dragons around Father. He loathes them for taking her from him.”
[name_m]New[/name_m] Word: Flight or Distracted
Warning: I’m still heavily workshopping this scene, so, if anyone has feedback I’d appreciate it
[name_f][/name_f]“We’re going to infiltrate a party!”
[name_f][/name_f]“A. [name_f][/name_f]. [name_f][/name_f]. party?” [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] asked.
[name_f][/name_f]Sel nodded. “Through a complicated series of events, there’s a second copy of the schematics for my cape on a yacht called [name_f]Cassiopeia[/name_f][name_f][/name_f] belonging to a very rich fellow who’s having a party tonight. We need to get onto that yacht, so we need to go to the party.”
[name_f][/name_f]“That kinda makes sense,” [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] agreed. “How are we going to get invitations?”
[name_f][/name_f]“I’ve got one–no, you don’t want to know how–addressed to one [name_m]Sir[/name_m] [name_m]Leonidas[/name_m] [name_m]Horatio[/name_m] du Pont, plus one.”
[name_f][/name_f]“That’s a pretentious name,” [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] said.
[name_f][/name_f]Sel shrugged. “These are pretentious people.” He leaned in, suddenly closer to [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] than seemed entirely appropriate. “So, who do you want to be? What’s our relationship?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Relationship?” [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] asked, mouth inexplicably dry. “Um. [name_f][/name_f]. [name_f][/name_f]. I can be your bodyguard? Since I’m big and strong?”
[name_f][/name_f]“I mean, you are[name_f][/name_f] pretty strong,” Sel said, “but you’re more than that. Anyone else you want to be?”
[name_f][/name_f][name_f]Vesper[/name_f] thought about it, or tried to. What was Sel going for? “Secret. [name_f][/name_f]. [name_f][/name_f]. bodyguard. [name_f][/name_f]. .?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Better, but this is a yacht party!” Sel’s hand rested on Vesper’s leg briefly before slipping away. “I’m pretty sure bodyguards get in automatically, so what use would my plus-one invitation be?” He waggled the thin red paper.
[name_f][/name_f]“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting,” [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] said carefully. He really was very confused. “Why would you, or [name_m]Sir[/name_m] Whatever, bring me, if it’s not because I can protect you?”
[name_f][/name_f]Sel sighed. “You’re asking me why guys bring each other to parties? Dear [name_m]God[/name_m], you need to be brought to more parties. They do it because they want to spend time together, have some fun, take interesting risks involving champagne and whatnot. [name_m]Or[/name_m], you know, to retrieve important life-or-death schematics, but that could be secondary. [name_m]Sir[/name_m] [name_m]Leonidas[/name_m] is inviting whoever you want to be to this fancy, frivolous party because it’s fun, and he wants to have fun with you.”
[name_f][/name_f]People weren’t typically foaming at the mouth to have fun with [name_f]Vesper[/name_f], that was for sure. And he’d never been to a proper party before. But. [name_f][/name_f]. [name_f][/name_f]. “Fun sounds distracting. Without the schematics, you’ll die. [name_m]Can[/name_m] I please just be your bodyguard?”
[name_f][/name_f]“I’ll die having lived!” said Sel. He blew out a huff of air. “But, yes, if that’s what you want. Let’s go 3D-print some clothes. And pick out a name for you!”
[name_f][/name_f]“Steve,” [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] said immediately. “Classic thug name.”
[name_f][/name_f]“You’re not a thug,” Sel reminded him.
[name_f][/name_f]“I’ve spent the past two years basically just breaking down doors with an axe,” [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] countered. “I think I’m a little bit of a thug.”
[name_f][/name_f]Sel just shrugged. “Leo and [name_m]Steve[/name_m]. Why not?”
Next word: party or appropriate
[name_f]An[/name_f] excerpt from The [name_f]Princess[/name_f] And Her Servant:
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea and [name_m]Devin[/name_m] exchanged a bewildered glance, but found themselves being ushered by the enthusiastic duchess into a grand ballroom. The room was filled with an ethereal glow, and Malarrea could make out the faint outlines of dozens of ghostly figures gliding across the dance floor.
[name_f][/name_f]“Remarkable,” [name_m]Devin[/name_m] murmured, his eyes wide with fascination.
[name_f][/name_f][name_f]Hildegarde[/name_f] beamed. “Isn’t it just? We may be cursed, but we do try to make the best of our circumstances. Now, come, come! You must join
[name_f][/name_f]us!”
[name_f][/name_f]“Us?” [name_m]Devin[/name_m] shook his head. “The closest we’ve ever come to dancing together is when Malarrea tripped over something at her sixteenth birthday party and ended up crashing into me. We both fell down, she yelled at me, it was not a pleasant experience.”
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea had forgotten all about that incident. Yet another moment where she had been totally nasty. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. It’s a bit late, but were you alright?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Any injuries that I got are all gone now, anyway.”
[name_f][/name_f]“So, you two are just going to stand around and watch?” [name_f]Duchess[/name_f] [name_f]Hildegarde[/name_f] asked. “Okay then. To each their own.” She then left with [name_m]Alfonso[/name_m].
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea and [name_m]Devin[/name_m] watched the two of them begin a now-ancient Valdenian ballroom dance. Everyone else around was dancing too, even those without a partner. Everyone just seemed to be doing their own thing. Yet, they all looked like they were having fun.
Next Word: [name_f]Duchess[/name_f] or Birthday
“It was your birthday,” said [name_m]Val[/name_m]. “You turned sixteen.”
[name_f][/name_f][name_f]Sasha[/name_f] noted, “Not a lot of sixteen-year-olds are known for their rationality. You, I guess, and [name_m]Rosario[/name_m] to an extent. Your parents raised you right.”
[name_f][/name_f]“They did,” [name_m]Val[/name_m] agreed, remembering his mom’s ever-present smile. Neither of them said anything about [name_m]Charlie[/name_m], but they knew how teenaged [name_f]Sasha[/name_f] had gotten the wine.
Next word: agreed
Everybody agreed that [name_f]Leonora[/name_f] Lyon’s plan was a bad idea.
[name_f][/name_f]She was practically asking to be [name_f]Lucille[/name_f] [name_m]Lyon[/name_m] all over again. Tidal waves. The glow of the moon on skyscrapers of water. Cabin fever, but worse. Noise. [name_m]Constant[/name_m], unrelenting noise.
[name_f][/name_f]Noise canceling headphones in tow, months of food supplies for her tabby cat, countless books and cozy blankets, and a camera–even though there was no chance of recovery even if somethind did happen to her–Leonora would be fine. She was sure, she said.
[name_f][/name_f]“No, you’re not.” Her mother shook her head. “You’re not sure.”
[name_f][/name_f]Despite the pleading look in her mother’s eyes, [name_f]Leonora[/name_f] stepped onto the dock. What drove the [name_m]Lyon[/name_m] women to the infinite gray and unforgiving crash? [name_m]Leo[/name_m] was determined to find out, even if it meant never coming back.
(please note i haven’t written fiction in months i know it’s rough writing 
)
[name_f][/name_f]Next word: [name_f]Poppy[/name_f] (not as a color).
I don’t have any documents containing poppy, so I’m going to use flower instead just to keep this going.
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea insisted, “It can’t be true. Your future is to live in Elmora for many years. You will achieve all of your goals.”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Devin[/name_m] sighed and explained, “Sometimes, things don’t work out how we want them to. Anyway, I’m not really a believer in fortune telling. There’s no way to know for sure what the future will be like.”
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea suggested anxiously, “Maybe you should go to Elmora now.”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Devin[/name_m] shook his head with determination. “We only have a few more days until you’re home. I can wait a little longer.”
[name_f][/name_f]“But, if you never go back to the palace, you’ll be safe,” Malarrea said, her voice filled with worry.
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Devin[/name_m] reassured her again, saying, “I don’t intend to go any further than the west bridge.”
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea’s blue eyes were filled with concern. “But what if the fortune teller is right? What if you end up stuck at the palace again?”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Devin[/name_m] shook his head firmly and stated, “Princess, I’ve made up my mind. Once you’re safely across the west bridge, I’ll head straight to Elmora.”
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea studied Devin’s expression, seeing the resolve in his eyes. She wanted to argue, to convince him to change his mind, but she knew it would be futile. [name_m]Devin[/name_m] was as stubborn as she was, and once his mind was made up, there was no changing it.
[name_f][/name_f]“I wish I could believe you,” she said softly. "But after what the fortune teller said…”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Devin[/name_m] placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “I know you’re worried, [name_f]Princess[/name_f]. But I won’t let some fortune teller’s words dictate my future. [name_f]My[/name_f] path has always led to Elmora, and that’s where I intend to go.”
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea searched his face, trying to find any sign of uncertainty, but all she saw was the quiet determination that had become so familiar to her. She sighed. “Alright. I trust you.”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Devin[/name_m] smiled. “By the way, you dropped this back there.” He held out the magnolia blossom.
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea looked at the flower with a mix of fondness and sorrow. She gently took it from his outstretched hand, her fingers brushing against his.
[name_f][/name_f]“Thank you, Devin,” she said quietly, cradling the blossom close. The familiar floral scent filled her senses, stirring memories of the time they had shared together.
[name_f][/name_f]Malarrea knew that this simple gesture from [name_m]Devin[/name_m] was more than just returning a fallen flower. It was a silent acknowledgment of the connection they had forged, a connection that would soon be severed by the demands of their diverging paths.
[name_m]New[/name_m] Word: Simple
[name_m]Silas[/name_m] fished out two small blades with simple black handles and plain sheathes. Then three bigger knives with pretty wood handles. Last out of the crate was a small black handle that bore no blade, [name_m]Colt[/name_m] could see a hint of purple iridescence when the light the side of it just right. A switchblade.
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Colt[/name_m] had never really cared for them himself, but [name_f][/name_f] Keira’s eyes seemed to light up when [name_m]Silas[/name_m] handed it to her.
[name_f][/name_f]She took it and turned it over gently in her hands. Traced her fingers around the edge of where the blade would normally be.
[name_f][/name_f]She handled it carefully, the way one might hold a precious heirloom. It was disturbing.
[name_f][/name_f][name_f]Keira[/name_f] took the other knives from [name_m]Silas[/name_m] as well, arranging them into her hands so she didn’t drop any of them. It was a practiced motion. A reflex. She did it without thinking, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
[name_f][/name_f]And for her, it was. [name_m]Just[/name_m] like it had once been for him.
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Silas[/name_m] moved on to collect the guns that [name_f]Keira[/name_f] had requested, fishing them out of a nearby crate. [name_m]Colt[/name_m] didn’t dare peek inside that one, knowing already what he would find there.
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Silas[/name_m] pulled the guns out of the box and turned back towards them, holding the weapons out to [name_m]Colt[/name_m].
[name_f][/name_f]He blinked.
[name_f][/name_f]“Well?” asked [name_m]Silas[/name_m] impatiently. “Take them.”
[name_f][/name_f]He held the guns by the barrel, his arms extended and offering the grips to [name_m]Colt[/name_m] expectantly.
[name_f][/name_f]It was normal. People handled guns all the time, not just criminals. Taking them didn’t make him a killer. As long as they went unused, he was innocent.
[name_f][/name_f]And yet still, his hands shook as he reached to take them.
[name_f][/name_f]Next:[name_f][/name_f] light
Before [name_m]Bane[/name_m] knew it, it was his turn to speak. As he stepped forward, the applause roaring like a tempest around him. [name_m]Bane[/name_m] felt the weight of the moment pressing down, his heart thrumming in his chest, and just as Blight had predicted, confidence swelled within him. But as he opened his mouth to speak, the carefully rehearsed lines fled from his mind like shadows chased away by the sun.
[name_f][/name_f]For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze. The faces before him blurred together, and the cheers faded into an echoing silence that magnified his uncertainty. Panic surged within him, a tidal wave of anxiety that threatened to pull him under. He could almost hear Blight’s voice in his mind, urging him to remember his purpose, yet all he could manage was to stand there, staring out at the crowd, grappling with the weight of their anticipation.
[name_f][/name_f]“Uh…” The word slipped from his lips like
[name_f][/name_f]a lost thought, swallowed by the sea of expectant faces. His heart raced as he searched for something— anything— to say. “Hi. I… I…”
[name_f][/name_f]“Perhaps you could tell them about your powers?” Mayor Blackwood suggested with a smile.
[name_f][/name_f]“My powers?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Yes. We’ve seen the magic Blight can perform. Surely you must have some sort of powers as well. And, if you don’t want to tell, you could always show us.”
[name_f][/name_f]The crowd burst into a raucous chant. “Show us, show us, show us!”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Bane[/name_m] felt the rush of panic swell within him like a storm, rising to drown out the chants echoing from the crowd. The air crackled with expectation, and he could see the eager faces, eyes alight with anticipation for a display of power or prowess that he felt unprepared to deliver. The mayor’s suggestion rang in his ears, a reminder that he was standing on the precipice of his own fears. What had begun as an exhilarating dream of heroism now appeared as a chasm too wide to cross.
[name_f][/name_f]“Show us!” the crowd urged, their voices driven by a mix of excitement and desperation. It was an invitation laced with danger; they were asking him to reveal the very essence of who he was— or worse yet, who he wasn’t. Hadn’t they already seen glimpses of Blight’s formidable powers? How could he measure up to the shadow of her greatness?
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Bane[/name_m] took a deep breath. He had to do something. Anything. It was too late to turn back.
[name_f][/name_f]Then, as he looked out at the sea of eager faces— each one filled with hope and admiration— something began to shift within him. The flicker of an idea sparked in the recesses of his mind, igniting a flame of potential that had long remained dormant. What if he could conjure something beautiful, something that would mesmerize them?
[name_f][/name_f]Drawing deep from the well of his newfound powers, [name_m]Bane[/name_m] closed his eyes for just a moment. The world faded away.
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Bane[/name_m] inhaled deeply, the air around him buzzing with potential. He felt the energy of the crowd flowing through him, a palpable current of hope and expectation that wrapped around his heart like a warm embrace. It ignited something inside—an old ember of magic that flickered to life, coaxed from the shadows he had long thought extinguished.
[name_f][/name_f]With a surge of determination, he opened his eyes. The world before him seemed to glow with possibility, each face in the crowd reflecting a shared yearning for wonder. Channeling the essence of that anticipation, [name_m]Bane[/name_m] raised his hands, fingers splayed wide as he focused on the vivid tapestry of light that danced in his mind’s eye.
[name_f][/name_f]A low hum resonated deep within him, gathering strength and swirling outward until it burst forth like a comet streaking across a darkened sky. Colors exploded— a breathtaking cascade of iridescent luminescence that spilled into the atmosphere, bathing the square in an ethereal glow. As he conjured the brilliant display, the crowd gasped in unison, their collective breath hitching in anticipation as the colors danced and swirled around him. [name_m]Bane[/name_m] felt a rush of exhilaration course through his veins; the energy of the gathering sparked something deep within him that he had never quite tapped into before.
[name_f][/name_f]As he manipulated the light with deft precision, vibrant streams of blue, green, and gold coalesced into breathtaking shapes— birds soaring, flowers blooming, and stars twinkling in a galaxy of color that painted the air above them. The spectacle unfolded like a living tapestry, and he dared to believe he was becoming more than just a reflection of Blight’s power; he was carving his own path in the hearts of the citizens surrounding him.
[name_f][/name_f]From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Blight— her expression transformed from poised confidence to genuine amazement. Her sharp features softened momentarily, seeing [name_m]Bane[/name_m] embrace his magic with such fervor, and pride shimmered in her eyes.
[name_f][/name_f]As [name_m]Bane[/name_m] wove his light display, colors
[name_f][/name_f]cascading like liquid rainbows across the square, the crowd erupted into awe-struck gasps. Each burst of brilliance ignited their imaginations, awakening a sense of wonder that mirrored the deep-seated yearning for hope within their hearts. [name_m]Bane[/name_m] felt the swell of energy, the rush of exhilaration propelling him forward as he conjured visions that danced before their very eyes. For a fleeting moment, he was no longer a demon struggling to navigate a world of humans; he was an artist, painting joy upon the canvas of their lives.
[name_f][/name_f]Yet, as the luminescence shimmered, a dark shadow flickered at the periphery of his success. Blight’s expression shifted, her initial pride morphing into an unmistakable flare of anger. The sudden contrast sent a tremor through Bane’s confidence, like a thunderstorm rolling in to shatter a perfect summer day. He had anticipated the thrill of applause, the embrace of acceptance, but not this. Not anger. Not from her.
[name_f][/name_f]He faltered, then called the light back quickly, terrified that he had ruined everything.
[name_m]New[/name_m] Word: [name_m]Shadow[/name_m]
[name_m]Geordie[/name_m] was smiling about something as we all waved goodbye, but I didn’t ask. [name_f][/name_f] I knew he’d tell me, and I knew that I probably wouldn’t want to hear it all that much when he did. [name_f][/name_f] [name_f]Maevie[/name_f] turned around just once, making a face that said mercy[name_f][/name_f], and I made one back that said good luck[name_f][/name_f] and also me, too[name_f][/name_f]. [name_f][/name_f] [name_m]Geordie[/name_m] didn’t notice, of course, on account of how he never notices anything. [name_f][/name_f] He was too busy humming something grandiose and a little out of tune. [name_f][/name_f] He stopped when we got to the corner, which was nice, but only because he’d decided he wanted to talk. [name_f][/name_f] Less nice.
[name_f][/name_f]“How long d’you think it’ll take?” [name_f][/name_f] He said it with a sort of smirk. [name_f][/name_f] It made his face worse than usual.
[name_f][/name_f]I put my apple into the pocket of my skirt so I’d be less tempted to throw it at him. [name_f][/name_f] “I dunno, a quarter hour, maybe?”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Geordie[/name_m] laughed. [name_f][/name_f] “Not the walk to the farm, stupid. [name_f][/name_f] I mean those two.” [name_f][/name_f] He gestured at where our friends were passing into the shadow of the town hall. [name_f][/name_f] “How long do you think it’ll take?”
[name_f][/name_f]I squinted at him. [name_f][/name_f] “For them to get to Maevie’s music lesson?”
[name_f][/name_f]“For them to realize—“ He stopped to gawp at me, as if we had time to stand around and be theatrical, but I comforted myself with the knowledge that he was probably getting road dust in his mouth. [name_f][/name_f] “You really can’t see it?”
[name_f][/name_f]I shook my head, still watching as [name_f]Maevie[/name_f] and [name_m]Roan[/name_m] turned down the lane toward the orchard. [name_f][/name_f] She was near tripping over him, the way he was walking half on top of her skirts, and tugging at her shawl and her basket. [name_f][/name_f] She handed him her basket the way you hand a mouthy puppy a bone so it stops biting your fingers, and I could tell from the tilt of her head that she was doing that impatient sigh she always does with the class boys or the especially stupid sheep.
[name_f][/name_f]“It’s plain as the hat on your head, wheatgrass.” [name_f][/name_f] [name_m]Geordie[/name_m] laughed at my sour expression, which was probably why he’d called me that in the first place. [name_f][/name_f] “If it was a snake, it’d’ve bit ‘cha by now.”
[name_f][/name_f]“I wish a snake would bite you,” I said sullenly, swinging my satchel at a clump of weeds. [name_f][/name_f] I imagined it was his head.
[name_f][/name_f]Next word: snake
Normally, by this time, [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] would have told the prisoner to choose his last words. But, something stopped her. Maybe it was the fact that, despite all of her other prisoners appearing well-fed and wearing good armor, this one was the complete opposite. She had noticed that he was thin but, looking closer, now could see that it wasn’t a natural thinness. He also wore no armor, which was strange. “When was the last time you ate?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Why are you asking?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Where’s your armor?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Why are you asking?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Fine.” It was clear that [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] wasn’t going to get the answers to her questions. But, she wanted answers. Especially because, continuing to study the prisoner, she saw that he also had more injuries than the others. There were multiple cuts and bruises on his face and neck, some recent and some not. His hands, as well, were covered with small slices and scars. Most did not look accidental. And, on his right arm, though the sleeve of his shirt was not shredded or torn, it was bloodstained. “Did my warriors give you all of those wounds?” She doubted it.
[name_f][/name_f]“Insubordination is unacceptable in the king’s army.”
[name_f][/name_f]“And so they hurt you?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Insubordination is unacceptable in the king’s army. Punishment—”
[name_f][/name_f]“What is the definition of insubordination?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Failure to obey an official higher in status than you, of course. You’re a major offender. Refusing to obey direct orders from His [name_f]Majesty[/name_f], [name_m]King[/name_m] [name_m]Osmund[/name_m]. Actions have consequences.”
[name_f][/name_f]“I will never surrender to [name_m]Osmund[/name_m]. I’m not going back to that cave.” [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] stepped closer to the prisoner, who recoiled in fear as if she had moved to harm him.
[name_f][/name_f]“Stay back, you evil demon!”
[name_f][/name_f]“I’m not going to hurt you,” [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] tried to speak as gently as possible. She had her guesses about this guy’s life, and none of them were good. And there was no way she was punishing him. Especially not if her guesses were right. “It looks like others have done that plenty.”
[name_f][/name_f]“Get away from me! I don’t know what—”
[name_f][/name_f]“Let me see your arm. It’s obviously injured and I want to know how badly.”
[name_f][/name_f]“Don’t touch me! You’re going to make it worse!”
[name_f][/name_f]Knowing that he wouldn’t willingly let her look at his arm, she grabbed it. He winced in pain and whimpered, making it obvious that there was also an injury she didn’t know about. [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] loosened her grip, trying to be more gentle. “Is anything broken? Sprained? What’s wrong?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Stuff happens in battle. It’s none of your business.”
[name_f][/name_f]“Broken or sprained? I need to know.”
[name_f][/name_f]“I sprained my wrist yesterday. I don’t know why you care.”
[name_f][/name_f]“And,” [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] pushed back his sleeve, revealing the source of the bloodstain. It was a nice sized gash, deep and still bleeding some. “What caused this?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Insubordination is unacceptable—”
[name_f][/name_f]“Are you saying someone did this on purpose?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Actions have—”
[name_f][/name_f]“It should have been bandaged, at least,” [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] turned her head to look at [name_m]Nash[/name_m]. “Nash, get me something to wrap around his arm. Please.”
[name_f][/name_f]She swore that the skeleton looked as confused as the prisoner. “My queen, aren’t you going to execute him? What’s the purpose—”
[name_f][/name_f]“There will be no execution. We’ll talk later.”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Nash[/name_m] shook his head. “Sometimes, I still don’t understand you. But, I do trust you.” And so, he left to obey her order.
[name_f][/name_f]“What’s your motive for letting me live?”
[name_f][/name_f]“What’s your name?”
[name_f][/name_f]“Like I would tell you.”
[name_f][/name_f]“Fair, but I have to call you something. If you won’t give me a name, I’ll have to choose one for you. And I once named a rabbit Hoppington. Also, I’ve named a cat [name_m]Fish[/name_m] Eater and a fawn [name_m]Baby[/name_m] Spots.”
[name_f][/name_f]“I don’t want a name from you. I don’t want to talk to you.”
[name_f][/name_f]“Oh, and don’t forget the time I called my older brother [name_m]Sir[/name_m] Basilisk during a game of Knights and Dragons. That was because he had to pretend to be a knight turned into a Dragon, but he could only turn into a giant snake. [name_f]My[/name_f] little brother was called [name_f]Scarlet[/name_f] Eyes in the same game. Anyway, let’s see, maybe I’ll call you—”
[name_f][/name_f]“Nothing.”
[name_f][/name_f]“I’ll call you Puppy, because you remind me of one.”
[name_f][/name_f]“A stray puppy,” [name_m]Nash[/name_m] returned and handed [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] a strip of cloth. “Either that or—”
[name_f][/name_f]“Thank you, [name_m]Nash[/name_m]. This will do just fine.” [name_m]Harlan[/name_m] began carefully wrapping the cloth around her prisoner’s injured arm. “Now, Puppy, if this doesn’t get better, you need to let me know.”
[name_m]New[/name_m] Word: Dragon
Xenophilius loitered awkwardly near the edge of the room, watching the party unfold from the sidelines. He wasn’t normally a party kind of guy [name_f][/name_f]- in fact, this was actually his first one, not counting the intimate little meetups he and his friends often held. Those were personal, and usually predictable. This? This was loud, and bustling, and bright, and somehow he was in the middle of it.
[name_f][/name_f]In all fairness, he was only here for [name_f]Pandora[/name_f], the bastard. Apparently [name_f]Dorcas[/name_f] was busy, and her only other sane friend would rather die than set foot in a party like this. From what Xenophilius had heard about him, he would be happy to die anyway, which made his point slightly less impressive [name_f][/name_f]- but [name_m]Xeno[/name_m] hadn’t objected seeing as he agreed. He would also rather die than set foot in one of these obnoxiously loud warzones.
[name_f][/name_f]Which once again raised the question of why he was here, exactly. The answer, to his extreme frustration, was absent.
[name_f][/name_f]Maybe he could people watch to pass the time? Yes. Yes, that always worked well. His eyes scanned the room; the crowd of students snaked around the room like an almighty dragon[name_f][/name_f], everybody breathing and moving as one. His eyes landed on a redhead in the centre of the room [name_f][/name_f]- wasn’t that the girl [name_f]Panda[/name_f] had come here for? Her hair was tied in a loose braid down her back, a dishevelled flower tucked inside one of the knots, and she wore a sage blouse that hugged her chest and complimented the green of her eyes. She appeared to be in a passionate conversation with a girl [name_m]Xeno[/name_m] could just about recognise as [name_f]Mary[/name_f] [name_m]Macdonald[/name_m], who was laughing at her friend.
Next[name_f][/name_f]: green