#writingchallange

Write 500 words a day (I'd post it here)

Write a chapter a week (^^)

One day write 500 words and the next day develope a character (repeat)

So I've gotten a "Winter Writing Prompts" challange, one word for every day of December. I'm sadly a bit behind, but I'll try my best. I've decided to write around 200 words for every prompt, and everyone from Saiph's POV to get to know him as he is ment to be one of the characters in "Tales of Stars Gathering". Here's the first five. Enjoy!

Snowfall

Saiph opened the door to his little hut and looked out on the snow falling there. He wasn't fond of snow, as it had more cons than pros. The only good thing about it was that one could bring it in in a jug and turn it into water by warming it up. The downside was that one could no longer find things, and let's not even talk about how hard it was to get somewhere without leaving tracks. Could he not been a hedgehog or bear? Think how nice it would have been to hibernate and wake up to spring. He pulled his brown cloak tighter around the body and stepped out with his staff in hand. In the other hand had he a basket. Saiph turned his gaze up to the grey sky and the odd eyes narrowed. It wasn't supposed to snow today. He muttered, annoyed, because yesterday hadn't shown any signs of snow. Now it would take a while to find all the mushrooms and fungi he needed for his stew. The snow wasn’t deep yet, so luckily it wasn’t too hard to find what he needed. Some yellow chanterelle and dotted stem bolete, but also some which weren’t for eating.

Hot Chocolate

It was only once in a while Saiph went to the market in the Elven capital, Irmasari, and this time he had met a merchant from a land far away. This merchant sold spices and meat, and the most curious scent came from his booth. As Saiph got closer, he realized that the scent came from a steaming hot liquid in a cauldron over a fire. It didn’t smell like anything he had smelled before, and looked strange with its brown colour. ”Would you like some hot chocolate?” the merchant asked, as he saw how curious Saiph was. ”Yes. What is it?” Saiph couldn’t take his eyes of the brown liquid. ”Warm milk, a little sugar and most important, cacao powder.” The merchant poured some of the hot chocolate in a cup, and gave it to Saiph. ”Careful, it’s hot.” ”Cacao powder?” ”Yes, it’s made from the seeds of the Cacao plant growing on Serine.” Saiph nodded and smelled the hot chocolate, and waited for it to cool off as he wanted to try it without burning his tongue. He had learned the hard way to wait for things to get cold, but figured this should still be lukewarm when one drank it.

Snowman

Elven children were rare. As rare as they were, the Elven folk most of the time hid them away from other people. Saiph however, would never harm the children, as nothing was more innocent than the young Elven offspring. But he couldn’t help but stop and look at them when he saw any. This time it was in a small village were some children were playing outside in the snow. He stood there calmly, looking at them, his cloak on and staff in hand. Saiph had seen these children before, years ago, in summertime and they had grown. Not much, as Elven children took years to grow but some. They made snowballs, bigger and bigger, and put them on top of each other. A snowman. As they played Saiph could also see an Elven woman watching them, and she nodded with a smile when their eyes met.  He knew he was accepted as long as he held his distance. When he was back at his hut, deep in the forest, he built his own snowman. It was taller than the one the children had made. It got some berries for eyes, a small stick as nose. He even gave it an old scarf around its neck.

Fireplace

Saiph came inside his hut and walked straight to the fireplace to put on a new log and made sure the fire was breathing. The flames soon grew bigger and bigger, crackles was heard as the wood was burning. A warmth started to spread in the room which made the most of the hut. Saiph's home wasn't a big place compared to most, but he didn't need much. It had room for his things and a bed to sleep in. He stopped in front of the fireplace and looked into the  flickering blue flames. It was the birch that made the color of the fire, and Saiph enjoyed looking at it. The scent of smoke felt like home, as he always had a fire on, something which was important during the winter. There, in the flames, he saw things. Little red ember salamanders crawling up on the wood, bathing in the warm fire. They were always there, helping him keep the fire alive and eating old ashes. But those wasn't the only things he saw. This time a pair of eyes were staring back at him. Golden fox eyes. Saiph knew for certain those eyes didn't belong to just any fox.

Snowstorm

S.C.O.U.T.S.: Special Citizens Obliged and United To Save began with a group of girls raised in seclusion away from outsiders and the modern world. Only those few people who were trusted to raise them to be the warriors and defenders that they were destined to become were allowed to know about the existence of the 8 girls were masters or either combat or academics and were willing to live a life of seclusion in the mountains and forests of Japan. Not a lifestyle many or racing to take up, but the Priestess raising children found 3 teachers willing to live on the hidden compound with them, and together the 5 preistesses and the 3 teachers raised the 8 children to become lethal in Combat and have genius intelligence. Each girl had their own power and personality and was trained to be able to expertly hone their own skill.

Between their uniform levels of combat and academic intelligence partnered with their own unique abilities, it is no surprise that competition between them began to grow, for years the girls would get in trouble for using their powers against each other, they were raised to be sisters yet treated very differently which caused a lot of tension. The preistesses and the teachers gave up one night and kicked the girls out of the compound, none of the girls stuck together until someone screamed. The scream was deafening and in these parts of of the forest belonged to no stragglers. Every girl thought that itwould have been one of the other girls. Scared and alone going further from the compound seemed like a mistake but going back at the moment also seemed dangerous. Each using their own abilities to protect themselves and find others the girls slowly began to pair and group up. All 8 girls eventually found each other and tried to account for the scream, they all claimed that they didn’t scream. After about a minute of looking around for potential threats and possible plans of action all the girls began running back to the compound. The closer they got, the louder crying noise they heard. When they get to the opening before the compound they see the Gate is opened, which means that it was never closed behind them, beyond the opening was a preistess on the ground and a pool of blood and other preistesses fretting around her. She was dead, murdered and the compound was no longer secure, was no longer home. Someone knew they were there, what they were, how to kill them, and how to leave without being seen. So girls began to lean into their training and began their real world excersises it wasn’t long before they were global news assisting in global issues outside of Japan. Some say they came from the pits of hell, some say they came from the heavens, those who say otherwise frankly don’t have much of an imagination.

The real truth is that 8 girls raised in solitude, descended from long forgotten Galactical folklore of Gods, Godesses and Warriors becomes heroes for the planet they called home using the powers given to them from beyond. They saved the world. This is the thing about war it’s never really over and with a crew of only 8 against an entire universe or bad and evil, victory is a fairytale. Peace does not exist.

They are dead, all of them are dead. I was there, I witnessed it and I still cannot believe it. I am not sure if I ever will be able to bring myself to begin to understand what happened.

“We are ready for you now miss,” the guard says bringing me back to reality and out of the past.

He guides me into the room where all the leaders of the United Nations are sitting staring at me as I approach the podium in the center of the floor. The room is big, but not as big as you would think. Every time is was here before, there were about 50 cameras and 100 microphones around the podium and room recording everything that is said. But this is not a normal situation. Nothing about today is protocol. Instead of formal requests and events planned, and UN represntatives in place taking notes and translating the meeting while it is also being recorded, this meeting was not preplanned in fact as far as I know it was planned about 10 minutes ago when I was yanked off of the sidewalk here in New York. That is when I met this guard who walked me in after asking me to wait in the lobby. I didn’t wait long, I wouldn’t have waited at all but when he eberered the room two more guards flanked me and blocked the door. I was meant to stay. And as stated earlier, actual world leaders are here and not their chosen cabinet members. Before approaching the podium I stop about halfway taking in the room and fully noticing the differences. Once I get there I make eye contact with the current leader of the United Nations and the President of the United States of America. They make eye contact with me. The Leader of the UN speaks to me first.

“Identify yourself” he says. His tone was calm the only normal part about whatever was happening.

“My name is Harper” I say say nervously.

“Full name please” same tone.

“My name is Harper Leilani Stone” I say plainly, shaking the nervous tone.

“Please read what is on the podium out loud for the room to hear Ms. Stone” the President of the United States says.

Having a huge insecurity about reading outloyd in public I try and skim the pages before I begin to read aloud, but my eyes can’t leave the top of the page, and the words cannot come out.

“Is there a problem Ms. Stone?” The President asks me.

“No” I say but that isn’t meant to be the answer to his question but a response to the document before me.

“So start from the top for us Ms. Stone.” He says his patience is beginning to dwindle.

“No, no,no, no,no,no,no,no,no” I said shaking my head as I step from behind the podium nauseous at the idea that these crazy politicians are planning something like this.

“Excuse me?” He says, his patience has left the building at this point. That is why I didn’t vote for him. Ya know I always had that vibe that he was not as mild mannered as he ran out. Wasn’t the only reason but just a reason.

“Are you insane?” I say as I look at him. I look away from him and face the other leaders in the room, “Are you all insane?Do you not remember what happened the last time?”

They all look away from me like I am the crazy one.

“You are the only one who could do this, we need you to be on board” the leader of the UN says.

“Then I guess it isn’t happening” I say curtly.

“S.C.O.U.T.S.” He says, “Do you remember what that means?”

“You cannot be serious? How can all of you well educated democratic leaders think let alone fully support this idea this trash?” I go back to the podium and grab the paper and hold it up in the air. “Have you all forgotten?”

“Have you, Ms. Stone?” Says the President. “You were asked a question please answer it.”

“S.C.O.U.T.S., never heard of her” I say throwing the document in the table in front of the the In leader and the President as well as a few other leaders sitting with them.

“Mia Young, Shadow Park, Carmen Santiago, Tiffany Ellis, Heather Dudnst, Prim Hashimoto, and Jazmine Chatterjee” someone yells from down the table. It’s the Queen of England Next to her Prime Minister, I guess they both got invited. “7 of the 8 original scouts who stood with the message and principals to defend the world against evil. No one has forgotten the tragedy that happened, no has forgotten the tragedies that happened before or after it either. But evil has not rested with them being gone. We need help.” She said he tone less harsh toward the end then it was in the beginning. I make eye contact with her and walk down toward her seat and stand in front of her.

This was always the plan, not a plan I made or had any part in making, but a plan none the less. And not following through with it would be a disservice to the ones lost. I look down at the table and see the words on the paper upside down. A part of me was hoping that I would never have to do this, like something would change so I couldn’t or didn’t need to do participate or keep up my end of a bargain. But that isn’t the case and my word must be kept especially in this thing called private politics.

“Secret Citizens Obliged and Unite To Save” I say back to the men who has asked me my questions earlier. “I have never and will never forget the meaning nor will I ever retract from duty.” I say centering myself back at the podium. I am looking at the room one last time before focusing back on the President and UN Leader.

“It is with Great Honor Ms. Stone, that we have this ability to reactivate the Scout project. And we have decided that now is the best time to do that. As you are the sole survivor of the original scouts you will recruit and train the next group of scouts and prepare them for what is ahead of them. You will have two years.”

“Sir with all due respect the first group was given 18 years of trialing and they still lost.” I say offended by the time limit, no way was that a realistic expectation.

“As the sole survivor frontbe original 8 you know first hand what will work for trainings and what won’t, use that to your advantage to speed up the process.” He says, clearly he no idea what it really takes to do what he is asking.

“With all do respect it can’t be done” I say, “I am on my own and I won’t have any resources available to me how do you expect me to do this?”

“That is where we come in” he says confidently. “You and the scouts you recruit will have access to all resources and locations needed to train, survive, develop, learn, play whatever. If we have it” He says featuring towards everyone in the room, “you have it.”

“Will you try?” Asks the Queen.

Alangkah banyaknya nikmat yang Allah berikan setiap hari bahkan setiap detiknya. Dari nikmat bisa bernafas dengan gratis, nikmat melihat, mendengar, nikmat memiliki teman dan keluarga yang selalu ada, nikmat rezeki yang tidak ada akhirnya sampai kita kembali kepada Allah serta nikmat waktu dan keimanan yang masih Allah lekatkan dalam diri kita. Nikmat yang mengantarkan kita untuk terus belajar dan berbenah.

Sayangnya, sadar atau tidak dalam keseharian adakalanya keluhan masih saja sering keluar dari lisan, mengeluh atas ujian yang dikira kita adalah manusia yang paling berat masalahnya, mengeluh atas makanan yang tidak sesuai inginnya kita, mengeluh dengan kondisi cuaca, mengeluh dengan sikap orang di sekitar kita, mengeluh dengan lingkungan kerja, gagal masuk PTN impian, skripsi yang belum selesai, atau harus mencoba berulang kali apply beasiswa, mengeluh atas doa-doa yang belum Allah ijabah dsb. Kadang kita lupa dengan kondisi diluar sana yang hidupnya jauh lebih berat dari kita, pengemis di jalanan yang cacat fisik, pemulung yang dari pagi mengaiz rezeki, para penderita penyakit kanker yang divonis oleh dokter, orang-orang yang sedang terbaring lemah di rumah sakit, kondisi pasien di rumah sakit jiwa yang membuat kita pilu, Anak-anak yang rela jualan koran hanya untuk bisa sekolah, ibu dan ayah yang banting tulang untuk kesejahteraan keluarga. Disaat kita mengeluh dengan semua keadaan tersebut, diluar sana ada banyak yang merindukan posisi yang Allah berikan. kita masih jauh lebih baik yang Allah berikan nikmatNya, Allah tahu kita tak akan sanggup berada di posisi tersebut. Lalu apa lagi yang membuat kita tidak bersyukur ata segala nikmat Allah????

Allah tak akan menghukum kita karena tidak tahu, kata Imam Al Ghazali, begitupun sebaliknya Allah akan mengazab siapapun yanh tidak mau tahu.

Atas segala nikmat tersebut lalu apa yang menjadi penghalang untuk terus belajar? belajar ilmu agama yang dirasa tak akan pernah cukup, belajar bersyukur menggunakan nikmatnya, belajar tentang perjalanan yang akhirnya akan menemui kembali selamanya, apa yang akan kelak kita katakan kepadaNya jika tidak menggunakan dengan baik segala kemudahan yang Allah berikan..

Mari cemburu pada mereka yang selalu bercumbu dengan ilmu, Berlimpah dengan dakwah ,Bermesra dengan Allah, (Salim A. Fillah)

Masya allah, perkataan diatas mungkin menusuk dada! Malu dengan sosok yang selalu mendekat kepadaNya.

Kemauan untuk terus bersyukur itulah yang diwujudkan dalam bentuk terus belajar dan beramal menjemput hidayah. Mengubah sikap mental kepada Allah, dari tidak tahu menjadi peduli, dari berburuk sangka menjadi ber-husnuzhun, dari ragu menjadi yakin, maka saat itu Allah akan menunjukkan jalanNya.

The disturbance started with a broken window. The sharp crack echoed through the dormitory, silencing every conversation at once. Children jumped. A few gasped. Glass scattered across the floor in glittering fragments. Nobody saw who did it. Nobody needed to. Every head turned toward Dirii. The little half-breed froze where she sat. Around her, children shifted away instinctively, as though simply being near her might somehow make them guilty as well. A boy pointed. "It was her." Dirii stared at him. She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. "I didn't." The words sounded small. Nobody answered. The silence hurt more than being called a liar. Moments later one of the matrons arrived, drawn by the noise. Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the broken glass, the frightened children, and finally Dirii. Always Dirii. "Come with me." The little girl lowered her head and obeyed. She didn't ask why. She already knew.The office smelled of old books and candle wax. Dirii stood quietly while the matron spoke. The lecture was familiar. Responsibility. Trust. Behavior. The importance of making good choices. Dirii stared at the floorboards and listened. Not because she agreed. Because arguing never changed anything. The matron never actually accused her outright, yet somehow Dirii always left feeling guilty. When the conversation finally ended, she was dismissed with a gentle warning and a tired smile. No apology. No acknowledgment that she might be innocent. Just another reminder that people expected better from her because they expected the worst.Outside, rain had begun to fall. The storm settled over Stormwind as evening approached. Raindrops crawled down the orphanage windows while the other children gathered together near the fireplace. They played games, shared stories, and laughed at things Dirii couldn't hear from where she sat. Her usual spot was against the far wall. Far enough away that nobody complained. Far enough away that nobody had to be uncomfortable. Dirii pulled her knees against her chest and watched. Friendship looked so effortless for everyone else. The way children leaned against one another. The way they shared blankets. The way they laughed without worrying whether they were welcome. It seemed as natural as breathing. A little girl noticed Dirii looking and immediately scooted closer to her friends. Farther from Dirii. The familiar ache returned. Not anger. Something sadder. Something emptier. For just a moment, an ugly thought crept into her mind. Maybe they're right. Maybe there really was something wrong with her. Maybe she was exactly what they whispered about when they thought she couldn't hear. Monster. Demon. Half-breed. Disturbance. The words settled heavily inside her chest. Heavy enough that she almost believed them.

Almost.

Movement near the fireplace caught her attention. A small bird had somehow found its way indoors. It was soaked from the rain, trembling violently. One wing hung at an awkward angle. Nobody else noticed it. Nobody else looked. The other children were too busy. The matrons were occupied. The bird was alone. Dirii quietly rose from her corner and crossed the room. The tiny creature panicked when she approached, attempting to flutter away. It only succeeded in tumbling onto the floor. Carefully, she knelt beside it. "It's okay," she whispered. Her hands closed around the little bird with extraordinary gentleness. As though it were something precious. As though it mattered. The way she wished someone would hold her.The rest of the evening passed in quiet work. She found a small wooden box, lined it with scraps of cloth, brought water, crumbs, and warmth. Nobody asked her to do any of it. Nobody thanked her. Most people didn't even notice. That was fine. The bird needed help. That was reason enough.Late that night, the orphanage finally fell silent. Rain tapped softly against the windows. Moonlight slipped through the cracks in the curtains. Dirii lay awake in bed, staring into the darkness. The little box rested beside her. Inside, the bird slept peacefully. Safe. Warm. Alive. The sight should have made her happy. Instead it made her think. The world had given her every reason to become cruel. Every reason to become bitter. Every reason to stop caring. Sometimes it would be so easy. To stop trying. To stop smiling. To stop helping people who would never help her back. To become exactly what everyone already believed she was. A monster. A disturbance. A problem. The children expected it. The matrons expected it. Perhaps the entire city expected it. They watched her constantly, waiting for the day she finally proved them right. Dirii rolled onto her side and slipped a finger through the opening of the box. The tiny bird stirred, then nestled against her hand, trusting her completely. The little girl felt something inside her chest loosen. Not much. Just enough. A small smile appeared. Sad. Tired. But real."No," she whispered.Tomorrow people would still fear her. Tomorrow they would still avoid her. Tomorrow someone would probably blame her for something she hadn't done. The world would remain unfair. Cruel. Lonely. But that didn't mean she had to be. They could keep waiting for a monster. Dirii would disappoint them. Again. And again. And again. The city might never love her. The orphanage might never understand her. But she refused to become the thing they feared. And in the quiet darkness of a lonely room, beside a broken little bird that trusted her when nobody else would, that stubborn refusal became the first truly important thing she ever owned.

(@daily-writing-challenge)

Dirii learns very young that being good does not make people love you.The matrons say it often enough."Be polite, Dirii.""Sit still, Dirii.""Don't crowd the other children, Dirii.""They need space."The other children always need space.Dirii doesn't understand why.She isn't mean.She shares her food when she has extra. She helps scrub floors. She carries water buckets that are almost too heavy for her. She even lets the younger children pull on her tail because it makes them laugh.But when games begin in the courtyard, nobody picks her.When stories are read before bed, nobody sits beside her.When nightmares wake the smaller children, they crawl into the matrons' laps.Never her. Never.The orphanage sits near one of Stormwind's poorer districts. The building is old. Drafts creep through cracked boards. Rain taps endlessly against the windows.Dirii hates rainy nights.Rainy nights make everyone want comfort.And comfort is the thing she wants most.She's eight years old when she first notices it.A little human girl named Clara falls and skins her knee.The matron immediately scoops her up."There, there."The woman strokes Clara's hair.Holds her close.Whispers softly until the crying stops.Dirii watches from across the room.The ache arrives so suddenly it nearly hurts.Not jealousy.Something worse.Wanting.She wants someone to hold her like that.Just once.Just once would be enough.That night she cannot sleep.Eventually she slips from her bed and pads quietly through the dark hallway.The matron's office glows faintly beneath the door.Dirii stands there for several minutes.Working up courage.Finally she knocks.The woman opens the door."Dirii? What's wrong?"The little half-breed stares at the floor.Her hooves scrape nervously against the wood."I..."The words feel stupid.Embarrassing.But she says them anyway."Can I have a hug?"Silence.A long silence.The matron's expression changes.Not cruel.Not angry.Worried.That somehow hurts more."Oh, sweetheart..."She kneels.But she doesn't reach for Dirii.Doesn't touch her.Instead she keeps both hands folded neatly in her lap."As we've discussed before, physical contact can make some of the children uncomfortable."Dirii feels her stomach sink."I'll be careful.""I know.""I won't squeeze.""I know.""I just..."The words crack.The woman sighs.A tired sound.A defeated sound."Dirii, dear, some of the children are frightened.""Of me?"The matron hesitates.Which is answer enough."They don't understand what you are. Dirii knows what she is.At least partially.Half draenei.Half tauren.Neither.Both.Wrong.The children tell her all the time.Goat-cow.Mutt.Demon.Monster.The matron always scolds them.But never quite disagrees."They think I might hurt them."The woman doesn't answer.Dirii laughs.A tiny laugh.The sort children make when they're trying very hard not to cry."I'm not strong enough to hurt anybody."The matron looks away.Because unfortunately, Dirii is.Even at eight.Even skinny.Even hungry.She is bigger than most children.Stronger too.People notice.They always notice.The woman finally offers a smile."You should get some sleep."Dirii nods.The conversation is over.No hug comes.No hand on her shoulder.Nothing.She walks back to her bed alone.The hallway feels colder than before.That night she curls around her own tail.Pretending.Pretending it is someone's arm.Pretending someone cares enough to hold her.Pretending she belongs somewhere.Years later she will forget many things about the orphanage.The names of some children.The shape of the rooms.The meals.The seasons.But she never forgets that night.Because it teaches her something important.

Something terrible.

The people of Stormwind did not hate her.Hatred would have been easier.Hatred at least required seeing her.No.What they felt was fear.And fear built walls.Walls no amount of good behavior could climb.So little Dirii stopped asking for hugs.Stopped asking to play.Stopped asking to sit with the others.Stopped asking for almost everything.She learned to smile anyway.Learned to be helpful.Learned to survive.But deep inside, beneath the cheerful grin she would one day show the world, a lonely little orphan remained curled up in a cold bed.Still wondering what was so wrong with her that nobody had wanted to hold her.