It’s this time of the month again. đ Welcome to my serial story, Beyond the Parchment
So far we learned that a dysfunctional portal, invented by a weary writer, May Ann, actually begins to work, bringing characters to our world. And herself into their world.
Anyway, you can read the first parts of the story here. You could just read the short blurbs about them, of course, but youâll probably miss some important details. The blurbs are there for those of you who have read the story and are trying to keep track of all the names, more than anything else. Youâre welcome. *bows*
Part 1: It Just had to be Lord Jerinthreo Kraven Balstin the Second in which a writer, May Ann, wakes up to find a portal sheâd designed in her book has become operational and two brothers, Jerinthreo and Daraton have come through and engaged in a bitter fight.
Part 2: All brothers fight sometimes, right? May Ann tries to keep the brothers from killing each other. Grabs Jerin and pulls him into a secret passage, only to discover she has Daraton instead (they are identical twins). Break out of the passage into May Annâs kitchen only to discover Varizan, a villain May Ann created, waiting for them.
Part 3: My kitchen will never be the same Another fight between Daraton and Varizan breaks out in May Annâs kitchen and May Ann saves Daratonâs life by shoving them both through the portal (which so happens to be the fridge).
Part 4: I am never doing that again May Ann and Daraton arrive in Braceaon, Daraton is wounded and Varizanâs soldiers have taken over Daratonâs former home. May Ann helps Daraton away and they find Ethred, a lady both Jerin and Daraton seem to respect, and her daughter, Adella, who happens to be Lord Daratonâs wife.
Part 5: Well, that complicates things: May Ann confers with Ethred and Adella and discovers they are both wordsmiths, chosen from their generations to record what happens in other realms (with some creative license). With Daraton resting, May Ann finally tries to get some sleep. But her eyes have barely closed when she finds herself wide awake. And captive in her own world.
Why canât this just be a dream?
âVarizan?â I blink, staring into his sharp blue eyes. How⊠I was in Braceaon. Resting. Relaxing! Why am I having a dream like this!
âRested?â Varizan raises an eyebrow, rocking back on his heels as he releases me. âYou slept long enough.â
I open my mouth, then shut it soundlessly. Varizan was in my home, but Iâd gone through the portal, hadnât I? Yet I am⊠here? In my closet. My arms tied behind one of the bare supports of my closet. With Jerinthreo, of all people, even more trussed up than I and glaring at me from the side.
Varizan shakes his head. âWhat realmly good did you think it would do to get Daraton out of my way when I didnât care a wit about him in the first place? Well,â he corrects himself, âwith his brother in my hands, Iâm sure I can pull some good out of the situation. Assuming the young lord survives.â
Jerinâs breath hisses between his teeth. âJust you wait, Varizan. Just you wait.â
âI have been waiting, several hours,â Varizan says. âNothingâs happened yet.â His gaze flicks back to me and hardens. âYou, however, my dearâŠâ
I am still staring at him, my mind spinning. Characters have come to life and Iâve visited their world. Why should being back here, interrogated by my own villain, be so startling? Interrogated⊠My stomach churns. That is one part of his character I have developed. For once, I donât like knowing what to expect.
Varizan flips a dagger absently between his fingers, still rocking on his heels, then finally sheaths it. âAre you ready?â
I glare at Varizan. âIt might help if you gave me a clue about what you wanted.â
âThe wordsmith doesnât know?â Varizan raises his gaze to the ceiling, then snaps his eyes back to my face. âI daresay youâd help if you did?â
âItâs doubtful.â
His hand smashes against the side of my face. I gasp, my head snapping to the side.
âThat was a warning.â He lifts one finger as I blink. His face blurs in and out of focus. âIâll be back. With details.â He rises. âIn the meantime, think over what you do know about me and consider how long you can defy me.â
He strides from the narrow closet. I stare after him, his last words echoing my mind. How long⊠Time. Time. I close my eyes, my shoulders slumping. What my family would have done if Jerin and the others came through when they were all here is beyond me. As it is, theyâll be back tomorrow night. Back from the visit to our grandparents. A visit I skipped because I was supposed to be writing. If they return while Varizan was hereâŠ
That is an interrogation weapon he knows how to use too well.
I muffle a groan.
âYouâre going to be dealing with more than a mere slap if you intend to defy Varizan.â Jerin growls.
I twist my head, glaring at the twin as best I could. âYou think that is bothering me?â
âIt should.â
I bite my lip before snapping a retort. âAnd you? I thought you were with Varizan?â
Jerin snorts. âJust because he gave me information doesnât mean I trust the son of a snake. But he was right. And Daratonââ
âDaraton did not kill your father.â
âOr so he claimed in those brief moments before you threw him back in the portal and then collapsed in that strange pantry?â
Strange pantâ Oh, the fridge.
âEthred told me,â I say.
Silence.
âThat name is not one to be bandied about just because you have a token from her.â Jerinâs voice is low. Deadly.
I close my eyes, my fingers twisting at the knots about my wrist. They donât give. âAnd yet she did tell me. I went through, Jerinââ
âJerinthreo.â
I ignore him. âI went through and got your brother to Ethred and Adellaââ
I cut myself short. Was Jerin for the marriage, or against it? Ethredâs hasty explanations still wound confused webs between my eyes.
âHeâs safe then?â
âYes, wellâŠâ I hesitate. âBesides slowly slipping away from poison on Varizanâs dagger and hiding from soldiers who seem to have taken over the manor house.â
âFlaming Salendrians!â Jerin spat the exclamation. He jerks against his ropes, then lets his head fall against the wall with a sigh. âWhen I get my hands on Varizanââ
I blink, shaking my head. âVarizan now? I thought you were mortal enemies with your brother. Not that Iâm complaining.â
âIâm not a fool,â Jerin says. âMy brother has much to answer for, but it is not Varizanâs place to interfere or implement execution for a crime he seems very well able to have committed himself!â
Well then. That was one uneasy truce brokered.
âSoâŠâ I venture. âVarizan?â
âWhat about him?â
âDo you happen to know his backstory?â
âBackstory!â Jerin jerks upright. âIs that all we are to you? Characters in some book?â
âNot anymore,â I protest. âAnd itâs not just me. You should see what Ethredââ
âEthred has issues when it comes to her wordsmithing.â Jerin rolls his eyes. âEveryone is orphaned, had a troubled childhood, or was beaten at a young age. I had hoped you werenât all like that.â
I press my lips tight.
Jerin snorts.
âVarizan then?â I ask again.
âAmbassador from Salendria. Still not sure why he came, but Fatherââ His voice wavers, but he takes a deep breath. âFather accepted him. Didnât talk much to him though, that I could see.â
âFamily?â I ask.
âNone that I know of.â
âAnd that is probably where the backstory comes in,â I mutter under my breath. I search back through my various shreds of history. A wife and two kids, at least Varizan had them at one point. What happened? A raider attack? Fire? I shook my head. Something involving the former lord Balstin, probably. Their ages matched. There had been a war twenty years ago when Balstin was a captain and Varizan a mere villager.
âWhat are you smirking about?â Jerin demands.
I clear my expression, blinking as I snap my gaze back to my fellow prisoner. âJust thinking. I had a⊠idea.â
âIf it is about Varizan, youâd better keep it to yourself. I know what you types are like.â
âMy type!â
âEthred, remember? What did she do to your past? Kill your family and have a sibling die in your arms?â
I choke out a small cry of indignation.
âWhatever family Varizan had is dead,â Jerin says. âThat much I know. If you try to share the elaborate ways they might have died, then it will go the worse for you.â
âThat I donât doubt.â I bite my lip, then draw a soft breath as footsteps approach.
The door swings open and I turn my head away, blinking in the bright light.
âGeneral wants to see you.â A dusky figure blocks the sun, striding around me. Cold steel presses against my wrist. The ropes jerk tight, then loosen abruptly.
I swing my arms around, massaging my wrists. âWhat does heâ?â
âIâm sure heâll tell you.â The man yanks me up by the arm, shoving me before him. âCome along.â
I stumble a step as he pushes me out into my room. My poor room. What had these men done!? I bit my lip as I stare at the maps torn from the walls, the trampled flag, the scribbled parchments, my leather journal of customs and superstations lying open, with some passages underlined and others scribbled offâŠ.
The corridors and rest of the house isnât much better. Iâll not get any sleep at all if I want this clean before my family gets back.
Varizan is sitting in state at the dining room table, rolling magnetized balls around the palm of his hand. He pinches two apart as the man who fetched me loosens his grip and pulls out the chair at the other end of the table.
I watch him warily as I sit down, then let my gaze skim the paper and assortment of pens and pencils before me. I bite the inside of my cheek.
Varizan lets the magnet balls reconnect with a snap, then drops them to the table and looks at me. âI suppose youâve a guess at what I want?â
âPerhaps.â
Varizan waves one hand in a circular motion. âPray, elaborate.â
I trace the inside of my teeth with my tongue. Family is probably a sensitive point. Power? Revenge? Most likely, but we can go with power. âYou want to take over this world and you want me to write up some story or such where that that happens.â
Varizan throws back his head, his laughter billowing upward. âThis world? This world?â He shakes his head. âWhy in all the realms would I want this world? I have great confidence in my own abilities, but taking over a whole realm which is already fragmented into dozens of warring factions? I must say, I am flattered.â
So much for the power angle.
âBraceaon then?â
âCloser, but not by much.â Varizan sobers. Folding his hands, he watches me steadily. âI want you to write.â
âHence the paper and pens.â
âSomeone died once.â Varizan continues. âSomeone dear to me. You are going to write them back.â
My breath caught in the back of my throat. So it was family then.
âButâŠâ
âBut what?â Varizan rose, circling his chair and leaning on the back. âYou canât? Think carefully about what you say.â
âIâŠâ Best have it out with. âThatâs not what I do. I write, yes. But what has happened has happened. I canât change events. I canât bring people back from the dead.â
âNo?â Varizanâs brows draw closer as he rounds the table. He presses both hands on the surface beside me. âA wordsmith can do what she pleases, how she pleases.â
âYou must believe me, we canât.â
âAnd I am supposed to take the word of one captive on that?â Varizan leans close.
I force myself not to recoil. âIâm not the only one! Even Ethred saidââ I cut myself off. Idiot! I could write my own death scene at the moment.
A slow smile spreads over Varizanâs face. âAh, so you did go through the portal? A portion of you, anyway. I suspected as much.â He rounds the back of my chair, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders. I jerk, but their grip hardens, holding me in place.
âNo need for any writing yet, my dear. The past is, as you said, past. The future, howeverâŠâ his hands slowly slide toward my neck. I suppress a shudder.
âWordsmiths have more power on the future than Ethred likes to let on. Ask her about it, why donât you? And,â he leans over my shoulder, âwhen you see Daraton, tell him the Black Shadows has finally come.â
Varizanâs hand close over my mouth and nose, cutting off all air. I twist, struggling to breathe, but his hold tightens. Blackness edges my sight. Choking, suffocating blackness. And then I know no more.
Aaah!!! More, please!
EEEEEEEEPS!!!!!
You’re killing me with this!
I actually do love that the reason Varizan captured her is because he wants his family back. Sweet… for a villain.
Eh, well… he didn’t quite say that.
Oh, man…Oh man! This is AWESOME! I can’t wait for more! I really hope it’s all a dream, though…If the house is as trashed as I’m imagining, it would be really expensive to clean up. But what’s happening in the story…I love it! It could make for a really cool movie…
Thanks. đ
And I think the house is the least of the worries right now. đ
XD Varizan is still my favorite character.
Well then, he bids me say he will spare you life if he ever sees you.
Great! I would love to get to know him. I have a character fairly similar to him. Well, in the villain aspect. He’s more charismatic than dear Varizan. XD
Varizan just got several levels more interesting… and Jerin’s analysis of writers—! XD I’m dying.
Yep, I love showing what everyone else thinks of the crazy writers. đ I’ve plenty of material to draw from. đ
Sounds awesome! I think this twist is great….and you’re developing Jerin’s character quite nicely…..great post and can’t wait to hear more!
Oooh. . .this is getting so tense and more epic by the installment. More, more, more! What happens next?!?! …I suppose we all must endure until another month passes. *sigh* “I am patient. I can wait.” to quote a certain elven king. đ
đ I don’t suppose that means you will show up on my doorstep with an army, only weeks after proclaiming everlasting patience? đ
An army? What army? Who’d ever think of a crazy idea like that? *Insures the army of elves, dwarves, hobbits, and fans is ready if another installment is not delivered* Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN TO MAY ANN AND ALL THE REST?!
Oh. . .I did say I would be patient, didn’t I?
Pingback: Beyond the Parchment: Part 7 | Writing in the Light
Pingback: Beyond the Parchment: Part 8 | Writing in the Light
Pingback: Beyond the Parchment: Part 9 | Writing in the Light