Quote of the Moment

"I'm half living my life between reality and fantasy at all times." - Lady Gaga

Saturday, August 08, 2015

Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession - Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: This is rough draft material. Don't be surprised if you fall into plot holes, trip over inconsistencies, and get hit in the head with direction changes. I've done my best to read through several times before posting, though, to make sure most spelling and grammar errors are corrected. Any constructive comments are welcome for when I revise this novel. Thank you for reading!

All current and previous chapters for Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession can also be found on Wattpad. And for an easy to access list of all chapters that have been posted to Born to Write, please visit the Table of Contents.

A new chapter is planned to be posted to Wattpad every Friday, and that chapter will then be posted on Born to Write on the Saturday after.

Chapter 2

* * * * *

Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession

Chapter 3

Sid had been utterly stupid. The excitement at making it to the House of Portals had overcome her sense. Instead of being on her best reserved behavior with Damian, she had allowed herself to slip, didn't wear the mask she had carefully created. He might have been young, but he was still a Guardian.

So when Councilwoman Liss posed the question to him, asked him exactly what he thought of her, her heart dropped out of her chest and splattered at her feet. She made sure not to show it, though--no, she wouldn't crumble now. Whatever he said, she'd fight until they dragged her out.

Sid had to learn how to open the gate.

The pause between question and answer stretched on. Too long. Then again seconds were too long for her. Answer the question.

"As you see here, she'll make a perfect Guardian," Damian said.

Sid needed to scoop up her heart from the ground so it could jump into her throat. Perhaps he wasn't as much of a jerk as she thought. But why wouldn't he tell them how she had acted? Could be that his stoic look was a mask of his own. He could be an ally to her in this. And she definitely needed an ally--she wouldn't be able to keep the facade up constantly without cracking. She already felt ready to crack, finally realizing how much more difficult it would be to stay here, in the nest of hornets, than it was to get here in the first place.

But she shouldn't jump to conclusions. Even if she needed someone to aid her, to believe what she believed, she couldn't assume anything. He could have other reasons for keeping her actions to himself. Heck, could be he was too self-absorbed to notice anything. That was probably it.

She'd watch him though, slip the mask off a bit around him, see how he reacted. No matter what the outcome, she had to accept that she might be alone in her endeavor indefinitely.

"Very well." Councilwoman Liss returned her attention to Sid. "You are willing to leave your past behind? Becoming a Guardian means cutting all ties to those you once knew, including your family. Do you accept this?"

Sid's mother had collapsed in a puddle of tears when she told her her desire to become a Guardian. She knew what it meant--losing her only daughter. Forever. But Sid didn't intend for it to be forever. It hurt that she couldn't tell that to her mom. She had cried that night, ashamed at making her mother feel that way. The next six years, her mother made sure to spend as much time with Sid as possible, so much at times that Sid felt smothered. But it was the least she could do, knowing the choice she had made wrenched the heart of the person closest to her.

"I do," Sid said. She forced herself to not have any shudder in her words--even behind the mask, she felt the tears threatening.

Liss nodded. "Please step back by Damian while we discuss."

She did so, hoping beyond hope that she had played her part well enough. If she didn't fool them, then she hadn't practiced enough, hadn't prepared for hiding her true self, for delivering the lies without a hint of doubt.

Sid glanced up at Damian, but he didn't meet her eyes, just watched the council members converse. Too much to hope for a small smile of reassurance even. If she couldn't succeed at anything else, she had to at least teach him to smile.

The minutes ticked by, standing in silence next to the young Guardian. It would be difficult indeed if most of her time would be spent this way. Silence was not her friend. Her father would always laugh and say that she enjoyed to hear herself speak. She'd never admit it to him, but she knew he was right.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but were clearly only several minutes, the council members broke up their huddle. "Come forward, Obsidian." Liss straightened in her chair and placed a tiny stray hair behind her ear.

All of these Guardians were so proper, so concerned with perfection. The councilwoman's gray hair was pulled back in a severe bun on the top of her head. No other hair except the one she just put back in its place strayed. Straight-lipped as Damian, too. The other four council members, two men and two women, were just as composed.

Sid had to find someone here that knew how to smile and laugh or she'd wither inside.

She took her position in front of the council members.

"In truth, welcome to the House of Portals, Dedicant Obsidian," Liss said.

Sid felt a tension in her shoulders release, then checked herself to make sure the mask wouldn't drop as well. One more step closer.

"Guardian Damian will be your mentor and teacher while you're here. If you have any questions or worries, you'll address them to him alone. You're both free to go."

Sid inclined her head in a brief bow. She considered thanking them, but gushing would have showed too much of the excitement of her true self. Guess she'd have to wait to squeal into her pillow tonight.

She joined Damian, and they left the room in step.

As they passed the watcher at the door, he said, "Don't screw it up, Damian. Still can't believe they made you a mentor."

Damian glared at the man, so briefly that Sid wasn't sure she actually saw the expression on his face, then turned away and took up a quick pace down the hallway.

Sid had to jog to catch up. No love lost between those two. There was a story there. She loved stories.

They exited the building, and Sid inhaled the fresh air--much needed after being in the stuffy council chambers. And when she took a lungful of air in, the magic dancing around the portals came with it. She felt it worm its way through her muscles and bones, clinging to corners she never knew she had.

"Are you hungry?"

Sid jolted. She almost forgot Damian was standing next to her. "No." She knew she should be, as it was close to dinner time, but food was the last thing she wanted after the scrutiny she had underwent. And she wanted to make sure her book was safe. She'd need to find a hiding place for it here--the bottom of her chest was too obvious.

"Then I'll show you to your dorm. You can unpack and rest." He took off for the main building before she could reply.

She was going to be doing a lot of running to catch up with this one. Like a puppy at his heels. She groaned, and checked to make sure he didn't hear her, but he didn't react.

They entered the main building after brushing by the magic of the gates in a winding path, then took the stairs up to the third level. Of course, her room was halfway around the circle. It would have been nice if there was a set of stairs on this side as well, but the Guardians must want peak physical health with all the walking that's required of them.

Damian opened the door and motioned her in. At least the room was on the inner wall, so it had a window looking over the courtyard. The outer wall was windowless, which would have drove her to jump off the roof after spending so long cooped up in such a box.

"Your bed is the one at the end. Dresser is on the other side of the room. You may also keep your chest at the end of the bed, if you wish. Dedicant robes are already in the dresser for you. There are two other female dedicants in this room, and unless they plan to study in the library, they'll likely come in after dinner. Latrine and baths are right across the hall."

And there sat her chest, waiting for her to make sure her treasure still remained.

"I'll pick you up in the morning, shortly after dawn, for breakfast and to begin your studies."

Sid looked up at Damian and risked taking his hand. "Thank you." She hoped he could hear the inflection in her words, that she was thanking him for more than just showing her to her room. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't even be here right now, but staring at the ornate door with the word that probably did mean doom at the top of it.

He nodded and pulled his hand from her light grasp. "Rest well, Obsidian." Then he was gone.

Sid closed the door and leaned against it. Alone at last, for the time being. She headed for her bed, made of plain, dark wood, simple but sturdy, same as the dresser. Closest bed to the window. She suppressed the urge to peer down at the portals and sat on the edge of the bed instead, next to the pile of neatly folded sheets--she'd make it in a moment.

Right now, she had something more important to do. So she tugged the trunk to her and fiddled with the latch. She wished it would have had the same mechanism as the small box buried under her clothes--harder to get into that way, if you didn't know how it worked.

Everything still seemed in place, untouched by nosy Guardians. Like the puppy she had imagined herself as, she dug through her things, all the way to the bottom, and fished out a small, rusted metal box wrapped up in a piece of flower-patterned cloth.

Sid wrestled with the mechanism until she heard the proper clicks. There it was, safe and sound. She plucked the book out of its compartment. Its magic tickled her fingers, just like every time she had looked at it and paged through it, since she found it.

But now, she felt some of its magic stretching toward the window, reaching for the gates below. It called to them, like a lost child, desperate to return home, to be where it belonged.

Just wait. A little bit longer. Then your words will be unleashed.

* * * * *

Chapter 4

Wednesday, August 05, 2015

What's In A Name?

I'm not sure if I've talked about this before on my blog. I do know I wrote something up for a guest blog post a few years back, though. So, if I'm repeating myself here, I apologize. Chalk it up to nostalgia.

I had a birthday this week (no, I won't tell you my age, but I'm sure if you take what I tell you here and think a little, you can make a decent guess - that doesn't mean I have to fess up), and it made me realize that it's been almost 20 years since I chose my pen name, Alexa Grave. This was years before I even sent anything out, hoping I'd get an acceptance.

I was in the middle of writing my first novel (well, now looking back, it's probably more like novella length - 4 years to write the rough draft, too - ha)...one that will never, ever see the light of day. Here's a juicy spoiler, though. Everyone dies by the end. Yes, everyone, including the point of view character (I wrote it in journal style and even took a red pen to show the blood spatters on the final page - yup, laugh at me, laugh hard). Now you can understand why that "novel" will remain in my binder and on my hard drive (the revisions of which I may not be able to access myself because I password protected it and forgot said password, but I digress).

I don't exactly remember how the name Alexa Grave came to me. I do remember sharing it in excitement with my few friends. And from that point forward, that's who I was when I wrote, who I still am.

Now, the meaning behind the name has grown over the years. I see it as a contrast of the light and dark, the first name being the former and the last name the latter. This also reflects my style of writing - dark fantasy, dark humor even, but it's never completely dark, as there's always that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel (for the most part - clearly not in the aforementioned first "novel").

It's a name that means a lot to me, though. One that I have grown insanely attached to.

And this really brings me to the other thing that prompted me to write this post. I've always seen the comments on pen names about how you can use a different name if you're writing in absolute different genres, like erotica and young adult. I've also seen the suggestions that if your career fails under one name, you can rise from the ashes by using a new name. Of course I see these tactics as beneficial for people - they make sense.

More recently though, with the indie publishing revolution in full swing, I've been reading a lot of posts in a pretty popular forum, and pen names come up a lot. Many people are of the opinion that you should use a different name for each different sub-genre. Yes, this means one name for epic fantasy and another name for urban fantasy. It's like pen names have become tissue paper.

Unlike the first two things I mentioned, I have a hard time finding the logic in this. They claim the audiences are different and will be mad if they really love your epic fantasy, pick up your next book without looking at what it's about, and feel betrayed because it happens to be urban fantasy. OK, I understand different audiences, but the reader has a responsibility of their own to at least read a short blurb before they buy a book. Not to mention, so many traditionally published authors keep the same name and write in different sub-genres. Jim Butcher writes both urban fantasy and epic fantasy, for example.

Not only is it a lot more work, managing several names (and I know some writers who do this - my props to them, and the ones I know personally tend to do it mainly because the major difference in genres, not just sub-genres) with having an author presence via website, social media, etc. You also have to rebuild a following each time you start a new name.

But one of the reasons I know I could never do this is because of the meaning behind my pen name. Names are important to me. It's one of my favorite things to do when I'm writing - picking out the character names! Because I feel those names should have a layer or two of meaning, at least for the main characters, even if that meaning is only something internal to me.

So, I guess it astounds me, how some people can just use name after name, thinking of them out of the blue, in the end only a means to an end and because maybe they sound cool. Like I said, tissue paper.

It also makes me wonder what ramifications this might have on future writers. In a decade, will so many names have been used that there will be insane overlap? How will readers then keep things straight if there are several authors with the same name? What will happen to building a following with your name as a brand then? Or will author names become so outlandish just so they can be different from what came before?

I already see similar names to mine out there. There's actually an author named Alexa Grace (I don't know if this is her real name or a pen name - I've only noticed her books on Amazon). Yup, only a single letter difference from mine. And I'm sure it will be easily confused in the future (actually it has already been once when someone asked to quote one of my posts in a forum).

I guess, in all my postulation and incredulity, what it boils down to is one thing - Alexa Grave will always hold a lot of meaning to me. Of course I can't speak for other authors, but I know my name represents who I am as a writer.

And I'll never hide my work behind another name because of that. Sub-genres? I think epic fantasy and urban fantasy can go together nicely under one name. YA? Yes, I have a few YA ideas, but they are still fantasy. Erotica? OK, I've come to terms with the fact that even though this is a great market to gain traction in and has a lot of voracious readers, I'll never be able to write straight erotica, so no problems there.

If my career tanks and something really bad happens that I can't recover from? I will be going down with the sinking ship, and I'll probably still be writing once underwater.

Is that a mistake? Maybe. But you can also call it part of my brand. Stubborn, for one. Dedicated, for another. Also loyal. Loyal to who I am and the name that I've carried with me on my writing journey for all these years.

NEXT UP: I've decided I'm no longer going to post NEXT UPS! The post for next Wednesday isn't firm, and it seems I trip myself up on occasion because of these NEXT UPS. I'd like to be fluid if necessary and change the topic if I need to. Though, you'll definitely see a chapter of Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession on Saturday.

Saturday, August 01, 2015

Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession - Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: This is rough draft material. Don't be surprised if you fall into plot holes, trip over inconsistencies, and get hit in the head with direction changes. I've done my best to read through several times before posting, though, to make sure most spelling and grammar errors are corrected. Any constructive comments are welcome for when I revise this novel. Thank you for reading!

All current and previous chapters for Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession can also be found on Wattpad. And for an easy to access list of all chapters that have been posted to Born to Write, please visit the Table of Contents.

A new chapter is planned to be posted to Wattpad every Friday, and that chapter will then be posted on Born to Write on the Saturday after.

Chapter 1

* * * * *

Chains of Nect: Obsidian's Obsession

Chapter 2

Damian wasn't sure what to make of this new girl. True, she wasn't raised within these walls, but no other dedicant coming from the outside acted as she did. How had she passed the tests? She seemed too willful to become a Guardian.

The tests were only part of it, though. Anyone could give the right answers if they were so inclined--the final vetting took place here, and it was his responsibility as her mentor to decide whether she had the mettle.

He studied her back, straight black hair falling to her waist--clearly where she got her namesake--entranced by the portal nearest her. Her demeanor during the tour of the inside was a definite mark in the no column. However, he couldn't fault her for latching onto the sight of the gates. Everyone felt the pull of them, and some of the new dedicants had to be dragged away after seeing a portal for the first time.

Obsidian seemed to look at it differently, though. He couldn't put his finger on it, but she still seemed more aware of her other surroundings, not fully caught up in the magic. Still drawn. Not consumed. And the portals had a way to consume even the most determined dedicants. They'd lost a few to madness over the years, according to his parents. He'd never witnessed such a sight--he didn't want to either.

All of those thoughts weren't what bothered him most. No. She intrigued him. Something inside of him stirred when she smiled up at him--a desire for something other, something more than his cloistered life had allowed him. And such a desire could get him into trouble, steer him off of the proper path, following the precepts laid down by the Guardians. It could cloud his judgment when the time came to give his decision on whether she should move from dedicant to full Guardian.

But he had years before he had to worry about that. Why was he fretting now? He'd disciplined himself to not allow his mind to wander, and here he was, following paths, wondering what ifs that had no meaning in the present.

The past is gone and the future unclear--neither hold value over this moment.

Damian shifted from one foot to another, unable to bring himself to break Obsidian's gaze on the portal. He'd have stood there watching her back, stray hairs getting tossed about by the breeze, if she didn't turn to him, ending the enchantment on her own.

"Where to next?" The smile made her face shine.

He didn't answer her at first, merely observed her radiant features, in awe that she so readily dropped the connection to the gate. Like someone who had grown up around them, grown used to their presence, knew how to quench the desire. Like him.

"Is everything all right, Damian?"

He'd pondered too long. This girl had him thinking and wondering more than he had since he was a child. "Sorry, yes." He clasped his hands behind his back. "It's a bit of a hike to the center, but it's time to present yourself to the Council."

Her smile faded. "Already? I didn't think I had to do that until after my studies were complete, when they make the final decision on whether I'm to become a Guardian or not."

"They see all new dedicants upon their arrival. Tests and Guardians in the field can only assess so much--the council members have a tendency to see things that may have been missed." And if they saw what Damian did, she'd be turned out immediately. No reason to worry about his future decision, just as the precept dictated. Why fret over something that may never happen?

But part of Damian hoped the Council would miss what he saw, would approve of Obsidian as she was, so he'd get to know her better, have time to unravel the puzzle that stood before him. It was a hope that went against too many of the precepts. He knew it would be better for him and everyone within the House of Portals if she no longer graced the halls. But he didn't want to accept that.

A couple hours with this girl, and his mind was addled. She had him not thinking straight, not thinking proper. It was as if she carried a magic of her own. Like the portals.

"Well, then," Obsidian said. "Let's go."

Damian nodded, afraid to open his mouth. He had to stop thinking so much.

She walked by his side as they made their way to the central building, weaving around the gates. Knowing the path around the portals better than the lines in the palm of his hand, he was able to watch her, taking occasional glances so she wouldn't catch him staring. And what he saw unsettled him even more.

Most dedicants would gaze at each gate they passed, feeling the tug of each and every one of them, trying to listen to the call. But Obsidian looked straight ahead, likely at the council building, ignoring arch after arch.

And she slowly changed from the person he greeted at the door and guided around the main building. She stood up straighter, her chest more prominent under her white blouse, and her pace became smoother, as if she was gliding, her multi-colored skirt shifting with her step like it was part of her.

No hint of a smile played on her lips. She wore the stern and confident look of a Guardian, not a mere dedicant. If possible, her eyes grew darker, full of power.

In this shift of bearing, Damian saw the woman that had been hiding underneath the girl. And now he wondered which facade was her true form. He walked next to a shapeshifter--the change seemed so distinct that that was all he could think of to describe it. The puzzle only grew more complicated with this revelation.

She didn't speak a single word on their trek. No more endless questions, no more prying into his personal business. The bored look she had during the tour had been replaced by pure determination. This was a woman who had what it took to be a Guardian. Or so much more.

They reached the council doors, and Damian opened them, motioning her inside. "After you."

"Thank you." Obsidian stepped inside and vanished into the shadows.

He took a deep breath and followed her in.

The council building was designed much like the main one. It was circular, a hallway, which included several chairs along the walls for those waiting for a meeting, wrapped all the way around the circumference. They had to walk halfway around the circle to reach the entrance to the central council chamber.

Bear stood guard at the door, a middle-aged Guardian who Damian disliked. He'd overstepped his authority with his parents on more than one occasion, which is why he now was stuck with the boring duty of watching the council room door.

"Greetings," Damian said. "I'm here to present Dedicant Obsidian to the Council." He'd prefer not to be civil with this man, but he ranked higher. Those below must respect those above.

"It's about time you got here. You shouldn't have dallied." Bear opened the door and sneered at them as they walked past.

Damian had only done as was expected of him--no dallying involved. He suppressed the desire to accidentally tread on Bear's foot in passing. His name suited him all too well.

They entered the stuffy meeting room, no windows to allow the breeze in. The worst room in the House of Portals. And the last time Damian had been here was during his own raising from dedicant to Guardian. It was torture then, unsure if he'd be accepted or tossed out of the front doors to deal with the entirety of Nect on his own, the stuffiness had made him feel like he was choking.

The five council members sat on the other side of the room behind a long desk, shuffling through papers. He didn't know how they could stand to be shut in this room for extended periods of time. Perhaps they'd gotten used to the sense of claustrophobia.

"Ah, perfect timing." Councilwoman Liss stood from her seat in the middle and beckoned to them. "Guardian Damian, you may stand off to the side, back by the chairs. Dedicant Obsidian, please stand before us." She sat back down.

Obsidian didn't hesitate. She glided across the room, situating herself before the now intent council members, papers before them forgotten. It was as if all five gazes bolstered her strength instead of making her quiver as they should. She bowed her head in respect. "Welcome to the House of Portals," Liss said. "You wish to become a Guardian, Obsidian?"

"I do."

"Why?"

Such a simple question, but one easily stumbled over. Damian was never asked--he was born here, and he was expected to follow in the footsteps of his parents. And he was raised with the need to help fulfill the precepts, to protect all gates from the commoners. No good would come if someone found a way to open one, if they didn't go crazy first.

"To maintain the order set down by all Guardians before me," Obsidian said. "To protect those in Nect who cannot protect themselves from the magic." Words expected of a dedicant, but the strength was in the delivery. She spoke with conviction, as if it was an affront that the question even had to be posed of her.

An amazing transformation indeed. The caterpillar who had chattered in his ear existed no more.

The five council members watched her, gazes boring deep into her soul, looking for any twitch, any indication that she wasn't sincere, that she might crumble in her attempt. Damian was just glad they weren't looking at him like that--it had been all he could do to stay firm when they did the same to him at his graduation.

Liss turned her stare to him, as if she had heard his thoughts. "And you, Damian? You've spent a short time with Obsidian. Any observations? Do you think she belongs here?"

Acid climbed up his throat. Her gaze was hard enough to bare, but he hadn't expected to answer such questions. This was his first time as a mentor, having only become a Guardian a year ago. And how should he answer?

He should tell them what he'd seen. A silly, giddy girl who didn't seem to be serious enough for the task. Then the metamorphosis, as she shifted right before his eyes, preparing to show her best face to the Council. Yes, he should tell them.

Obsidian looked across the room at him. He tried to find pleading in her eyes, but there was none, only a distant consideration. Her fate was in his hands, sooner than he expected it to be, and she didn't feel the need to beg for his blessing.

Damian swallowed the bile pooling under his tongue. "As you see here, she'll make a perfect Guardian." His heart thudded in his chest, faster and harder than he'd ever felt it beat before. He'd just lied to the Council. Well, a lie of omission. Surely the woman before them would make a perfect Guardian.

But he couldn't push down the need to learn more about her, to figure her out, to discover just what it was about her that made his mind unravel. To discover her magic.

The truth in all things.

Didn't that also mean he should find the truth about Obsidian? He had to convince himself of that, or he'd have to admit that he just took the first step in the opposite direction of the precepts.

* * * * *

Chapter 3