Here we go, continuing to lead the charge! I am so happy with this week's words. Not because they are especially good but because I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere :3
1010 words!
(VII) Week 20 Submissions
2 posts in this topic.
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Yo.
Spoiler
“I am! I think those can be cool. I’m not sure I have a favorite or anything, but I still think they’re cool. Why d’you write about heroes?”
“I couldn’t say. I felt… pulled towards writing for one of those. My main character is this combination of heroic traits and a villainous vibe for the purpose of contrast, and I’m trying to perfect it. It’s the same principle I used to design my Emerald Dread.”
Valmond raised an eyebrow. “You… designed yourself?”
“No, no. I mean my armor. My title-name is also my armor’s name.”
“Oooh, that makes sense!”
Lylatt closed the book he’d been given then couldn’t help but jerk his head in sudden surprise while looking around, noticing that he no longer sat on the stairs of the battleground he’d started his read in.
“Ah, right, your camp.” Lylatt commented, chuckling to himself. “Apologies, Valmond; I lost track of time. Though I suppose you can take that as a compliment as well.”
“Oh, I am!” Valmond said in return, visibly excited. “I was cringing a bit while reading with you, since some of this stuff’s pretty old and… out of order, it turns out, but you didn’t seem lost at all.”
“I’ve dealt with flashback stories before. And well, I’m a hobbyist writer myself, so, I won’t turn my nose just because you’re no professional either.” he frowned, remembering something. “Which reminds me that I’ve been meaning to ask. Are you… non-native? Not just in uni-talk, but in the language you use for both writing and spell-chanting.”
Valmond’s eyes widened. “You… you can tell? I- yeah! Yeah, I am! But I thought you’d have things automatically translated to uni-talk thanks to the summoning and whatnot...?”
“It is, yes. I can tell because occasionally, your choice of words is very specific. The sort of thing one would only do if they spoke more than one language. I’m a polyglot myself, so it’s also why I can tell.” he smiled behind his reptilian helmet. “I also meant this as my first bout of gushing. Not because you’re clearly talented, but also because it’s not very common to have someone casually spell-chant in a language foreign to their own. Especially mid-battle like you did.”
A bright smile changed Valmond’s face from utter surprise to utter delight. “Thank you! It’s- I don’t think it’s work or anything— I mean it is, but I mostly do it because I like it? I mean I got pretty lucky with the chants though. Uh, ‘cause I get help from my summons and everything.”
“Did they come up with the alliterations?”
“No that… no, that was me.”
“Then you should at least take some credit. It’s not luck, young man, it’s your connections and your perseverance.”
A silent giggle followed. “...Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Do you have a favorite yet?”
“Absolutely. Hold on, I think it was…” Lylatt frowned, trying his best to remember. “‘Roles are this time reversed — for our shouts and shrieks ride the summoned squall, as your surrendered soul stays silent’.”
“Oooh! That was the hardest one to pronounce!” Valmond revealed excitedly. “Mine’s ‘We are Stormspook, the Zephyr-Fragment, commanding the weakling’s untamed neighbor: the wind.’”
“Bit childlike, that name, I must say. I don’t mind, to be clear, but I’m noticing now.”
Valmond’s smile turned mischievous. “That is the first insult I gave him as a distraction. Worked like a charm!”
“Oh, was it a summoned creature you have to defeat?”
“He’s one of the PhoBits. Those guys I’m looking for? Stormspook’s tamed now. I learned back home that one of the first things to do with fear is to… um… to lower its influence, I guess? So I figured calling him childish, giving him nicknames, and acting confident would make him slip-up. I’m a prestidigitator in training, so, I can do that last part pretty well.” his face visibly changed to something… nostalgic. Or perhaps bittersweet.
“But the truth is?” Lylatt asked softly.
“...The truth is, I think his name’s really cool. I like imagery and… and portmanteaus! But I can’t feel too bad for hurting his feelings, because I mean the guy was a major jerk, so, you know.”
“You’re allowed to have sympathy for your enemy. You didn’t let that control you, it seems, so I’d say that’s a win. Especially given that you can work together with him, now.”
“Yeah! Yeah, I think so too.”
A beat passed, leading to a silence during which Lylatt took in the camp’s look, somewhat incredulous of its… everything.
I really missed out while on my time blindness timeout, huh. He couldn’t help but think to himself, gazing at the softly lit, impossibly big light bulb sitting in the middle of the lake surrounding the circular glade-like room.
Said light bulb, emerging from the water, cast a glow that engulfed the entire area, aided by green-blue bioluminescent dots at the lake’s surface. Meanwhile, wood-painted steel lockers sat at the far edges of the impossibly spacious rooms, each standing like pillars before large sleeping bags. And then there were the circular wooden benches surrounding the light bulb like seats at a campfire, one of which was occupied by Lylatt and Valmond — although the young man seemed quite lost in thought, when Lylatt’s gaze focused on him again.
“I’m not sure what my favorite part of yours is.” Valmond said.
“You mean on the summoning chant side of things?”
“Yeah. But I think I remember one. It was… uh… Mark?”
“‘The First Mark.’”
Valmond snapped his fingers. “Right! ‘The First Mark. With separation shines individuality’. That one was straight fire.”
Lylatt grinned. “You seemed interested in pulse, too. It usually comes in different names, but I assure you everyone’s got some, and you do too.”
“That light?” his head turned to Lylatt. “I can do it too?”
“You’ll have to discover your variant, but yes. Although before that, we really need to talk about how the battle went.”
Valmond grimaced. “It sounded good before, but now it doesn’t.”
1003 words. Good to be second again. Not in a competitive sort of way, mind. I just appreciate the grind, is all.
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