Welcome to my little corner of the internet! I’m so glad you’re here. Below you’ll find part two of my fantasy short story Rough Draft. It starts like you might expect: our Hero is on a mission to rescue the Princess. I’m excited to show you where it goes from there.
Want to start at the beginning? Here you go:
The storm had built itself into a blizzard as Anaxl and the princess came to the entrance of the cave. The sound of the wind made it seem almost a living thing. The princess paused inside, looking uncertainly at Anaxl.
“Have you brought the necessary equipment to handle such inclement weather?” she brayed. Anaxl nodded, moving closer to be heard more clearly.
“We can go out if we must, your grace,” he yelled. “But might I suggest waiting here until the storm subsides a bit?”
“And what of the Witch?” she asked. Anaxl looked around, searching for signs that they were not alone.
“I was worried that we would encounter traps trying to leave this cave, but have found nothing,” he said. “And I would rather not brave descending the mountain with such poor visibility.”
The princess nodded and followed Anaxl a short way back into the cave. Here the sound of the wind was more like the tide against the shore. It was comforting rather than alarming.
“That was almost poetic,” the princess said.
“Your grace?” Anaxl asked, looking puzzled.
“That description of the wind. By your narrator friend?”
“Ah. Yes. Although I do not believe friend is the correct word for him.” He placed the torch into another sconce built into the wall, then removed his pack and dug around, removing several hard pieces of bread wrapped in leaves.
“What is the correct word then?” she asked, laying her cloak on the ground and sitting. “And why do you say ‘him’?”
“He seems to understand me much better than he knows you,” Anaxl answered. “And his use of the word bosom. Forgive my indiscretion, but would you ever refer to your…” he made a vague waving motion to his chest, “with that word?”
“No, I suppose you are right,” she agreed.
“As to your other question,” he continued, “the narrator is not so much a friend as he is… a force. Of creation.”
“Surely he isn’t creating us,” the princess said, stubbornly clinging to her own sense of free will. “He only has some unexplained knowledge of the immediate future.”
“I have been through this same line of thought,” Anaxl said. “And have consented to be content with not understanding completely. At least, the narrator believes that I have, and so it is.” He held out one the packages to her. “Hungry?”
The princess accepted a bundle of the bread and, unwrapping it, set upon her meal with a ravenous hunger. “This bread is delicious,” she said between bites. “And I feel my strength returning already. What is it called?”
“Lembas bread,” he responded. “It’s made by the elves.”
“By the what?” she asked, hastily wiping crumbs from her chin in an attempt to preserve her lady-like airs.
“They awoke at Cuiviénen, the Water of Awakening, in the far east of Middle…” he paused, then shook his head. “It is not important, your grace. This entire conversation will likely be removed in subsequent drafts. I am pleased that you are enjoying our meal.”
They sat in silence for a time. The princess took the opportunity to examine her surroundings. She did not remember how she had ended up in the cave. There was a vague recollection of a witch, and a song. Her foggy memory was most likely a side effect of the hag’s dark magic.
Her inability to recall the past made her uncomfortable, so she instead looked at Anaxl, really studying him for the first time. He sat, head down, lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the world. She noticed his strong jawline, the way his muscles bulged against the sleeves of his shirt. It was not an altogether unpleasant sight. The solitary flame on the wall cast half of him in shadow, making him look lonely. She felt a sudden desire to move closer to him, to feel his warmth, to perhaps have him wrap his strong arms around her and then slowly pull her down to the…
“Some weather we’re having!” the princess said suddenly. Anaxl looked over at her, as if awakening from a dream.
“I’m sorry, your grace,” he said. “I was not paying attention. Did the Narrator say something important?”
“No, nothing of consequence at all,” she said. “So… what happens next?”
“That depends on what kind of story we are in.” he answered.
The princess opened her mouth to argue, but remained quiet instead.
“It is impossible to say for sure,” he continued, standing up to stretch, “but the Narrator has not shown himself wise enough to create a mystery, and as this is obviously not a romance…”
“Obviously,” the princess interjected with what she felt was the perfect amount of eagerness.
“…I am confident in declaring us to be in the midst of an adventure.”
“An adventure,” she repeated. “How… original.” She popped the last bit of bread into her mouth. “Okay, so what happens next in our adventure?”
Anaxl began cleaning their modest campsite as he spoke. “Well,” he said, “we have had a long span of dialogue, during which nothing has happened. I’d expect that there would soon be an exciting development that spurs us to action, an earthquake, for example, or…”
Suddenly, the ground began to shake. The princess rose quickly, smoothing her dress and moving closer to Anaxl. He held one arm out against the wall to steady himself. Dust streamed down around them, causing the companions to cover their mouths. The quake subsided, but was quickly followed by a piercing howl.
“What was that?” the princess asked. “It sounded as though it came from behind us!”
Anaxl said nothing, but instead grabbed the torch and took several steps back toward where he had originally rescued the princess. He held the flame high in the air, as if hoping to push back the darkness by force of will.
He heard the beast snarl mere moments before it charged him.
The princess shrieked as a large wolf bounded into the light, crashing directly into Anaxl and knocking him over. It had white fur mixed with patches of gray, and was large enough that Anaxl was momentarily pinned beneath its weight.
He dropped the torch, using both arms to shield his face from the wolf’s snapping jaws. He managed to throw the creature to the side and reached for his still-sheathed sword, but a second wolf appeared. It leapt at him, forcing Anaxl to roll away. He threw a powerful kick at the first wolf, dazing it, then jumped to his feet.
“Run!” he yelled, sparing a brief glance for the princess. “She is coming!”
The princess stood frozen as a third wolf appeared, circling Anaxl, who had gotten to his feet and drawn his sword. He swung at the newcomer, who lithely jumped out of the way. The other two wolves pounced upon Anaxl’s back, knocking him to his knees. He lashed out wildly with his sword, forcing one of the animals back, while the other sunk its teeth into his pack and tried to drag him to the ground. His eyes locked onto the princesses’ as he shrugged out of the pack. They were the eyes of a man who was determined.
And hopeless.
“Run…” he whispered, then yelled and jumped back to his feet, swinging his blade in a wide arc to create some space.
She didn’t wait to see what happened next, but turned and ran for the exit. The torch was left behind, but the sound of the blizzard led her in the right direction. She paused at the entrance to catch her breath, then headed into the whiteness.
Suggested music for Part 2: Same Logic / Teeth by Brand New
Keep going! Part 3 is out:
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