Step Forward

My friends have often acknowledged that I am not a very brave person. I must admit, that's fairly true. My idea of a good time is sitting in my basement with a book, some root beer, and a big bowl of jellybeans while the summer rain pounds on the windows and my Ipod plays soft sweet songs. When I go shopping, I head for the book store, not the clothes department. I rather retreat into what is safe, comfortable, known, then act out and step forward, but that's the hing about life, sooner or later, w get to crunch time and we have to act out, fight or flight. The beauty behind books  is that I am never presented that option. I often tell my best friend when he reminds me that I am once again reading a book that I have read several times already that "the more you read a book, the better it gets. The joy can only grow with every time you greet old friends and return to the same, familiar adventures." I'm starting to think though that "Familiar" might not be all that it's cracked up to be.
I started writing because I wanted to give that to kids, show them the forever loyal friends that I have always had. Allow them to embrace what was known until they were ready to stand up and face it on their own.
All these years, my friends have all kinda looked at me funny hen I brought up that a book was beautiful, beautiful is what those kinds of books are. The once that wrap you up in a hug after the hard days are over. I have always wanted to write a book like that. 
words are easier down on paper. when they're like this, people have a simple choice, read them, or not. Not to mention, I can always hide them away myself. Whats written down is what's easier to take.
To sum all this up, this disconnected wisps of thought, what really makes us act when the time comes for us to do so is everything e know and hold dear because in the end we always know that we can't hold onto everything forever, only the recollections of everything e have, and the knowledge of everything we will do because of it. I suppose this is probably the biggest cliche of all time, but I ant to put down words that make people act. That make people want to act, the words that everyone holds dear. The good stuff in life.
Well, with that in mind, on to my daily writing dosage. This is where, by the way, I'll be writing A Dark Dawn. I'll add in some back round information every now and then to try to explain some stuff, but otherwise, I will try to write everyday, and more often than no, it will be without explanation. I'll generally start from where I left off the day before, but I'll switch it up every now and then. Don't be afraid to comment! I'd love to hear back from you! 

Marod looked at Mauria with a look of pure disbelief. "The mourning stars?" He asked her in a hoarse whisper, all smiles gone now. "Mauria are you insane?"

Mauria looked distant, disturbed. she frowned at nothing and none in particular. "Possibly," She looked back at Marod, as if just noticing him. "you make think that I have no idea what I'm talking about," The look on his face said that this was indeed the case, and Mauria continued on. "but I do. I know who they are. Renegades. Outcasts." She smiled a wry smile. "things that I know about." 

Marod looked at her with a shocked expression. "Mauria, you may are many things, a wanderer among them, but you are most certainly not an outcast, that I know. You are the Champion of the Virtue*, how can you be an outcast?"


Mauria's smile was a sad one. "So you haven't heard the news then. Nyra* fears that I conspire against her. She outcasted me." Mauria's voice turned bitter. "And they all believed her claims, Regulairis* as well."


Marod eyes filled with sorrow and pity toward his young friend. He could see that Mauria would grow to be ancient, older even than he, but to watch as yet another weight was placed upon her shoulders, to see lines that shouldn't have marked a man five times her apparent age, made him worry. So long had it been since Mauria had actually truly appeared to be the 19 years her face and height showed.


"Are you sure that this is something that you want Mauria? We are the discontent, the woeful. We are those that bear the true sorrows of the world"


Mauria's laugh was harsh."As if I do not already do these things." Her voice softened. "Please, Marod, I'm begging you. If I am not that which I thought I was, then what am I? And Nyra has removed me from all that has since defined me. Where shall I turn now if not to your door, is t not you who I have always come to hen my road turned weary and dark? If I cannot rely on you for this one small favor, then I cannot rely on you at all, for what friend would deny me the right to redefine my position in this sorry land? Written in my bones is my need to act and from acting I am exiled. Allow me to join Marod, I need this, without it, I fear I will jot survive."


Not for the first time that night, Marod carefully examined the girl who had so often come to his doorstep, pleading for his company. Mauria created around herself this shell if impenetrability, something that others often wrote ff as arrogance, but Marod knew, Marod knew the soft vulnerability that lay beneath that shell. Mauria spoke the truth to him, this he knew. She honestly believed the words she spoke, the question was though, was what she asking for what she really wanted?


"What of husband, your daughter?" Marod's voice was soft, but it carried, it carried on the wind and he knew that no matter how hard Mauria tried not t show the the way those words stung, they would sting, and she wold not be able to hide it. Indeed she flinched, as if he had poked her with a sharp spear over the heart.


"Gone. Kayla's child...*," Mauria's voice turned sad at the thought of the name. It brought back memories of a smiling brunette girl that had stood unswervingly by Mauria's side through all the hardships she had faced, until the moment Mauria had drawn the line between friendship and duty. "It was discovered and none survived." With a pang, Mauria thought of her daughter, who she had left on the island while she and her husband returned to the Gan to carry out their various duties."

Marod gasped in surprise. "But that only explains your daughter, what of your husband?"

"He remains with Death and the Gen. As far as I'm aware, he does not know of my exile. I imagine he will be very angry when he finds out."  


Marod looked at the dawn that had slowly started to bleed into the back sky. He knew what he had t do. "Alright then, come. we have far to go and I imagine that the guardsmen will quickly find out that we are on their land. It is not wise to anger the Montorians, even when we have barely crossed their border." He turned away, walking though the woods once more, unaware of the thankful glance that Mauria threw at his shoulder.

*Virtue is one of the four leaders of the Gen, which is the ruling council of Mauria's religion. Mauria is the champion, which means that she serves Virtue in battles and carries out punishment that Virtue inflicts.  
A Journeyer named Nyra took up the position of Virtue, marking her out as an immortal. The irony is, however,, that Mauria originally trained Nyra and that in their house, house Nithagria, Mauria is actually ranked higher than her.
Regulairis is Mauria's fighting partner. In Quiet fire, he is also the Champion of Death, yet another ruler on the council of the Gen.
Kayla was a good friend of Mauria's and later became the Queen of Montoria, the land of the Journeyers. When Kayla tried to expand the kingdom and create an empire ruled by the Blood, Mauria turned her down, saying she would have no part in such action. For this, Kayla began persecuting Journeyers, and anyone else of the Blood, striking them don without mercy. The remaining members of the Blood retreated to the towering mountains south of Montoria to escape such punishment and fought a brutal war to keep that land. Mauria stubbornly remained away from this new realm, preferring to keep to a hidden island she had found of the coast of Montoria, knowing that there she would be safe while remaining within the country she still considered home. Kayla had died during the war, but her daughter had carried out her mother's quest with the same ruthlessness, and her daughter after that.