Tuesday, May 08, 2007

"Heal Thyself" at 13K (and a snippet)

After wrestling with POV issues, I have decided to keep this story to my 2 MC's POV, both in close 3rd person. It makes sense given the story's focus--on the clash of 2 cultures seen through the relationship between two characters, one from each.

So Lilliane Tor of Rimland and Jhanissim Zev of Tisreen will be unfolding this tale.

I also was able to outline the political conflict that sets the story on its course, much of which Lilliane and Zev will need to discover as they move through the plot.

This snippet follows Lilliane's arrest for breaking Guild orders and treating the Tisreen prisioner.

“It’s alright, Shira,” Lilliane said, “I’m just going to accompany these men to Guild Hall.” She reached slowly to the peg behind the door and withdrew her green cloak. “Tell Torrin I’m sorry about dinner. If I’m not on shift when he gets there, have him ask for Kayla.”

Shira’s eyes widened, her pupils swallowing up the hazel. There were a thousand things she wanted to tell her sister, but there was no time. And to say anything that felt like a goodbye would make her arrest all too real.

The guards flanked her as they walked to the end of the road. They stood a respectful distance from her and Lilliane felt grateful that someone would order them to spare her dignity. Or maybe it was just the honor accorded the Healer’s Guild. The green cloak billowed out behind her in the light afternoon breeze. She wasn’t sure she would be entitled to wear it for much longer.

Instead of turning up the cobbled walkway to Guild Hall, they herded her toward the city gates and the guard towers that looked out at Rimland’s western border. She glanced to her right and caught the slight smirk on one of the guard’s faces. So this wasn’t Kayla’s doing. Tige, she thought.

Lilliane refused to give the guards any hint of satisfaction. She kept her head up and walked steadily. Would General Tige question her like the Tisreen? She gritted her teeth. There were rumored to be ways for a strong healer to direct sight inward and dampen the body’s own response to pain. It wasn’t something the guild ever mentioned or taught. Likely, there was a heavy cost to the healer who tried it.

She let her thoughts roam as they would. Fear dulled sight. One of the first lessons learned in Guild Hall. A healer who couldn’t control his or her panic, never made it out of apprenticeship. No matter how strong the gift.

The towers loomed ahead of her. She didn’t have to look up to know they were the tallest structure in the city. The jail was in the tunnels that linked the towers underground. Lookout platforms jutted out from the top of each tower and were always manned. Lilliane had never been in the towers proper, though illness and injury had taken her to the guard barracks nearby. These two guards, she was sure she’d never treated.

Smirker must have decided she was walking too slowly. He moved in next to her and shoved her forward through the doors of the left hand tower. Lilliane stumbled and bit her lip. She smothered her cry.

“Arrogant witch,” he muttered.

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