#aralil mournstride

Edhest is a world in disarray. What was once an ordered world of open borders and peaceful trading between races and cultures, is now descending into madness. In the northern country of Westerfall, tensions are rising as a king once calm and measured spews hate-filled words of violence. It is now neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend, brother against brother.

Lessien Grayward feels hopeless. Her mother’s farm has turned from a sea of green potato leaves to dirt tracks hardened by the footfalls of countless soldiers. She thought her home town of Roseford missed the ignorance falling on the rest of the nation, until she sees an innocent old man beaten for being an immigrant and soldiers harass her friend, Adia.

She knows she cannot stay and watch the violence escalate. So, she leaves behind her friends and family, running away to chase a rose-tinted story of rebellion and justice. However, she comes to find that war is not all glory; it means blood soaked grass and faint memories of friends long gone.

The king’s power grows and victory seems out of reach. When Lessien sees her childhood friend fallen, blood red as the roses that bloomed on the hillside of Roseford staining her fingers, she has to confront the one question hovering at the back of her mind: Is this war worth the price?

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New title and new synopsis! I’ve been wanting to change the title and revise the synopsis for a while, and NaNoWriMo inspired me to finally change them. I can’t wait to finish out this first draft with nano

I was tagged by @leicawri!!

“She sang in a strange language that lilted and swayed, like a petal following a lazy draft of wind.”

In context, this is Aralil singing (she is a wood elf- they’re quite partial to music)

Thank you for asking!

16: do any characters have distinctive birthmarks/scars?

Lessien is scarred from farm work on her arms and hands, and also from being shot with an arrow. Aralil has plenty of scars from war wounds 

17: pick a color to represent each character.

Lessien - blood orange

Aralil - forest green

Thank you so much for asking!

Send in a character of mine for this! (character bios)

B A S I C S

full name: Aralil Mournstride

gender: female

sexuality: pan

pronouns: she/her

O T H E R S

family: Her parents are fletchers in Rosacil, the wood elf capital. Her grandmother disappeared after the dragon genocide a thousand years ago.

birthplace: Rosacil, Lorlyn

job: ambassador for the wood elf council to the rebellion

phobias: her secrets being found out, being seen as weak

guilty pleasures: singing

M O R A L S

morality alignment?: neutral good

sins - lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T

introvert/extrovert:

organized/disorganized:

close minded/open-minded:

calm/anxious:

disagreeable/agreeable:

cautious/reckless:

patient/impatient:

outspoken/reserved:

leader/follower:

empathetic/unemphatic:

optimistic/pessimistic:

traditional/modern:

hard-working/lazy:

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

otp: mmm.. spoilers :)

ot3: Aralil, Lessien, and Damien

brotp: Aralil and her friend Falán

I know I missed day one. I just decided to do Jotober today. I saw the list of prompts, and what everyone else was writing, and I just couldn’t pass up the inspiration. So, I am going to write small bits about the world of Wayfinder in no particular order!

(fair warning, this is unedited)

The humid air clung to Aralil’s armor like a spider to its web. She pressed her back against the broad trunk of a great jungle tree, a layer of dew-soaked moss cradling her spine. A single drop of water fell down her back, dripping through the chain mail link by link. Her eyes slid closed. As darkness enveloped her, the forest began to speak.

A tiny stream trickled through the forest floor to her right, running around wet leaves and fallen branches. A bird trilled above her, its call winding through the moss-covered trunks. The gentle paw steps of a tiger tracked around her, then faded away. Through all of the noise, a single beat emerged. She could hear the forest’s soul; she could feel the thrumming beat of its lifeblood flood through every tree trunk, every animal, every delicate vein in bright green leaves. Her own heartbeat slowed and matched the jungle with every soft thump.

“Aralil.” Her name brushed her ear, slight, but greater than every other sensation. Her eyes slid open.  Falán stood before her, his chin tilted ever-so-slightly.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

“I am sorry.” Aralil peeled away from the tree trunk. The back of her armor was slick with water released by the moss. “I got lost in the melody.”

“Which melody was it this time?”

“The forest’s.” Aralil’s amber eyes slid out of focus as she remembered the complete calm that had stolen over her just a moment before.

“What is it saying today?”  Falán stepped away from the tree. Aralil followed, placing her feet to avoid the soft patches of flowering moss stretching across the massive tree roots.

“It sings a song of peace,” Aralil said. She trailed the tips of her fingers across the broad leaf of a low growing bush, finding every twist and turn of the pulsing veins within. “A song of unity.”

Falán nodded once, then turned to leave. Aralil remained rooted in place. She tilted her chin up to survey the upper canopy. Sheets of sunlight bathed the topmost branches. A bird called sharply.

“Something is going to happen soon,” Aralil said.

Falán shouldered his quiver. “You can tell that from a single bird cry?”

“That cry was prompted by a different action. Actions are like a waterfall, turning and crashing and never stopping. A single moment does not happen for no reason.”

“You sound like the elders,”  Falán teased. “You’re only 200 years old.”

Aralil drew her gaze toward her friend. “My family is connected to the forest like no other. I feel every shift, every dramatic change that the heart of the forest endures.” She touched the soft white petals of a flower growing from a patch of moss clinging to the side of a tree trunk. “I am as old as this tree, and as young as a newly hatched bird. I depend on the wisdom the forest offers me.”

“That sounds confusing,”  Falán said.

Aralil smiled. “Never.”

13: sort your characters into Harry Potter houses

Lessien- Gryffindor

Damien- Hufflepuff

Aralil- Ravenclaw

23: which character has the best handwriting? the worst?

Lessien definitely has the worst- she doesn’t have the patience to write things neatly. Aralil has the best

2: Pick one sight, smell, sound, feel, and taste to describe the aesthetic of your novel.

The feeling of hope, whether its an absence or an abundance. The smell of apple blossoms. The sound of chain mail. The taste of blood. The sight of good friends having each others backs.

6:  Are there any former titles you’ve considered but discarded?

I called this series Incandescence for a long time, but then I changed it because I felt like it had no actual connection to the novel

17: Pick a color to represent each character.

Lessien- light red like roses in snow

Damien- blue like ocean waves

Aralil- the dark green of jungle leaves