It is and thank you.
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The eleven royal heirs enter a white board which leads them to a labyrinth that they must try to leave.
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You’re putting those eleven royal heirs through all sorts of trials, aren’t you?
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Atticus meets a guard with scars who tells him something he didn’t know.
Now he’s got more questions.
Then his bath arrives.
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This is just a training session before the real trials begin.
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There appears to be a Ghost that is very knowledgeable about the Thornwood Dynasty secrets and someone that sounds familiar to Aeris…
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Atticus doesn’t understand why Camilla is so unwilling to work with him to find answers both of them want.
Anyway, he’s gonna train with a gryphon cub now.
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Ummm… unspeakable things that shouldn’t ever happen to anyone? 
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She looks up from that unnatural position, still convulsing, her eyes strange somehow, as though seeing past the room, past the monastery, past this cloistered world. She speaks softly, hoarsely, ‘The veil has been rent, and this and that world is made one. Now Our Lady enters me.’
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Arthur broke into Aurora’s computer and left comments throughout her manuscript
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Nikita: Don’t you know who that woman is? She’s dangerous!
Horus: She’s harmless
Nikita: She destroyed a galaxy!
Horus: She’s mostly harmless
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been trying to get back into writing for a while now, and i’ve been watching so much (shows/movies). this is based off a show fanfiction:
character is having one of her regular sessions with a psychiatrist, and attempting to negotiate a higher dosage of medication (not entirely specified but likely some sort of sleeping pills).
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MC finally met the mysterious woman offering her what seems to be a magic fix to all her problems
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Wise words from Hathor:
First thing we get taught about fighting: Don’t fight. Seriously, the movies make it look cool, but it’s not. You’ll probably get yourself killed or someone else killed. When presented with a fight, either de-escalate or run. Unless you’re me in which case death is a temporary inconvenience.
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My main character summoned a “person” by merely walking through a thick fog.
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MC admits LI is the love of their life.
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It’s been quite a bit since I did this, but here’s some progress…
{Graphic Discriptions Warning}
Final Chapter 2 part
~ Part 3, Alyx ~
Alyx awoke to a brutal symphony of pain and a grotesque flutter against her skin. It wasn’t the sun on her face, or the damp chill of the ground that pulled her from the depths of unconsciousness this time. It was the frantic, almost delicate pecking. A sharp tug on her arm, a surprisingly deep sting on her shin.
Her eyes snapped open, blurry at first, then focusing on a horror that stole the breath from her already battered lungs. A fat, grey pigeon, its beady eye fixed on her, was meticulously tearing at the exposed flesh of her left forearm, where her sleeve had ripped away. Another, smaller bird hopped impatiently near her ankle, its beak already stained with dark, fresh blood from the open wound on her calf. A guttural cry tore from her throat — part pain, part disgust. The birds scattered with a frantic beat of wings, squawking their indignation at being disturbed. Alyx scrambled backward, a desperate, crab-like movement that sent fresh agony lancing through her ribs and ankle. She pressed her good hand against the torn fabric of her trousers, trying to staunch the new flow of blood, but it was already seeping through her fingers, hot and slick. The bird pecks had reopened the wounds, or worse, carved new ones into her already ravaged body.
She fought down a wave of nausea, her vision swimming as she pushed herself up on trembling arms. The scrubland stretched out around her, desolate and unforgiving under the pale, indifferent morning sky. The city walls, dark against the rising sun, seemed impossibly far away now. She was truly alone, and the world, it seemed, was determined to pick her apart.
The sun, now higher, beat down with a surprising intensity, baking the dry earth and amplifying the ache in her bones. Every movement was a struggle, each breath a fresh stab of pain. Alyx knew she couldn’t stay where she was. The birds had been a grim warning, and the open sky offered no protection from whatever else might be out there, or from the chill that would inevitably return with nightfall.
She scanned the horizon, her eyes gritty from exhaustion and the effort of focusing. To her left, the land rippled into a series of low, undulating hills, dotted with sparse, thorny bushes. To her right, nothing but the endless, flat expanse of scrubland. The hills offered the only chance of concealment, of finding some kind of recess or overhang.
Dragging herself forward, she began to move, a slow, agonizing crawl broken by frequent stops to gasp for air and wait for the waves of dizziness to pass. Her injured leg was a dead weight, her ribs screamed with every shallow breath. The bloodied patches on her arm and leg had started to stiffen, drawing the skin tight and adding to her discomfort. She tore strips from the hem of her cloak, wadding them against the wounds, more for the mental comfort of doing something than for any real hope of healing.
The hours bled into one another. The sun arced higher, then began its slow descent. Thorns snagged at her clothes, tiny insects buzzed maddeningly around her face, but she barely registered them beyond a dull irritation. Her mind was a singular, focused point: find shelter.
Finally, as the shadows began to stretch long and thin, she saw it. Not a cave, not even a proper overhang, but a shallow depression in the side of a small, rocky knoll. A cluster of gnarled, wind-stunted trees had grown together there, their twisted branches forming a dense, if flimsy, canopy. It wasn’t much, but it was something. It offered a measure of concealment, a slight break from the biting wind, and a place where she could at least rest out of direct sight. With a final, monumental effort, Alyx pulled herself into the shallow hollow. The ground was hard and uneven, scattered with sharp stones and dry leaves. She collapsed, her back against the rough rock face, letting out a ragged sigh that ended in a whimper. Her entire body throbbed with a dull, relentless ache.
Using her good arm, she began to gather what she could reach: dead branches, thicker clumps of dry grass, larger leaves. Her movements were clumsy, her fingers stiff and numb. She wedged the branches into cracks in the rock, leaned them against the sturdy tree trunks, and stuffed the gaps with grass and leaves. It was rudimentary, a crude lean-to more than a true shelter, but as the last light faded from the sky, it offered a thin barrier against the growing chill and the unseen threats of the night. Curled into a ball, trying to make herself as small as possible, Alyx pressed her face against the rough bark of a tree root. The air grew cold, carrying the scent of dry earth and distant, unknown things. She was exposed, vulnerable, and in agony, but for the first time since she’d woken to the birds, she had a wall, however flimsy, at her back.
She tried to Shift, a desperate surge of will pushing against her shattered body. But the pain, a blinding, all-consuming fire, ripped through her before it could even begin. Her muscles spasmed, seizing up as a strangled gasp escaped her lips. The effort was too much, too grueling. She lay there, defeated, the agonizing attempt draining what little strength she had left.
Chapter 3 draft
~ Chax, Cesellia
Purpose: Love hate relationship is established, worldbuilding, and connection to Alyx.
Scene Flow:
Opening - Subproblem and build relationship
Chax and Cesellia have been walking through the forests for days and they’re low on supplies.
Cesellia keeps trying to talk about what they’ll do next; Chax avoids the subject. He’s focused on “finding safe ground and supplies.”
Body - worldbuilding, connection to Alyx, build tension
They pass through a ruined settlement.
They notice signs of deliberate destruction
Cesellia tries to help a dying animal; Chax stops her.
Small argument about mercy versus necessity.
They agree to only help situations that would help them back.
They follow tracks for a “survivor”.
They find Alyx unconscious.
Chax notices the mark and feels uneasy, but doesn’t let Casellia see it.
Cesellia immediately wants to help. Chax hesitates.
Closing - postpone tension
They help Alyx and take her with them.
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your style is really cool! like it already
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*dryant using holy/light power to project a holy light devil’s trap creating area control
*flying ships using demonic energy to fly and do broadsides
*using portal magis in a defensive manner
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“Have you never seen a horror move?!” Imogene gestured at the darkness. “You’re the Immortal one. You go get eaten by whatever’s down there!”
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