Double Down Day Delights
And Rochelle's Origin Tale?!
Welcome back, everyone! As many of you might know, I host live writing sprints on my YouTube channel that also stream to Sarra Cannon’s Heart Breathings Writing Community over on Facebook. If you want to join the community, click here to learn more about the HBWC.
We had our monthly Double Down Day (DDD) today as we usually do on the first Saturday of the month, and it was a blast. Kay Parquet visited with me again to start the day! I love it when my fellow otaku-gamers sit and stay a while with me backstage for any reason.
I love DDD so much. Its literally the way I reset myself from month to month. With Virtual Writing Retreat weekend coming up for the quarter in two weeks, I know I’m going to be all set for the epic things coming down the pipe line.
Sarra’s resource library has been a huge help with planning to write Vitaelangica 2 and solidifying all of its connections back to Seasons 1 and 2 of The Merna Annals. I’m using the rest of today to finalize my outline for it using Sarra’s Preptober Workbook and Tarot for Writers by Corrine Kenner. I had a blast writing Regolith’s Relics 1: The Children of Moondust last year, and I think Vitaelangica 2 will go just as smoothly. If you’re wanting other resources beyond those Sarra offered and that I mentioned above, please feel welcome to consider the items I made with Mel Power and Jodee Jean Daniels to compliment Sarra’s library? Click here for our sources, too!
Oh, and there’s EVEN MORE resources coming to you from me NEXT WEEK!
As we speak, I’m filming a DDD vlog to capture that process. Follow us on my YouTube channel here fore more (click here to my channel).
With all of these supports and structures coming into existence throughout October, I hope to gain a full 50k words during November, even with December’s looming moveout date on the horizon.
Can I talk about the things going on behind the scenes yet?
Should I?
Shan't I?
Well, I guess I can leak this one little thing—
Frey: Soul Writer… behave!
I probably should indeed behave and keep the mystery going a little longer, Frey. You’re right (for once).
Frey: Oi! I am right more often than that—ask Lee!
I am sure you’re right about as often as she lets you be in that case. Anyway! I’ve been promising some new material for a while. Well, here it is! Ream Stories has been getting most of the fun things lately, so I think it is time that I share something here first before sharing it over there.
This does contain some spoilers, and yes, it goes on Ream Stories when it is completed in the shareable draft stages. Want a glimpse at Rochelle’s life as a human? Check out the first of the origin tales here.
Rochelle: Why me first? Why does the eldest always have to go first?
Frey: Yeah, really…
Rochelle’s Origin Tale
Little: Rock, Vampire, Rose
Draft Version September 2023
This is a RAW mostly unedited draft. There are going to be typos and more. No, it is not yet complete. Thoughts? Feedback? Let me know!
“Where is she?”
They were arguing again.
“I thought you saw her at breakfast this morning, wife? This was the third time Rose has disappeared since we told her about our original answer.”
Her father.
“I will not be undermined again.”
Her mother.
“Astrid, do not be vile to our beloved curly one on her best day. This is the start of a new life for her and for us.”
They were arguing over her again.
“And my daughter should be marrying someone from our country. Not selling herself off to someone as if she is a highest bidder, Marko.”
“Your stormy eyes tell me you’ve seen something gray in her future. What do the flowers whisper in your ear when you tend them with such love?”
“Not gray. Black and red. So much black and red.”
She slid herself off the wall from where she listened to their senseless banter. She knew all about the red and black in her dreams, but what her mother did not sense in her wise ways was the aquamarine splashes of laughter. The bolts of cobalt blue. The shooting ribbons of gold. And the warming, endearing shoots of bright, peridot green.
A rainbow of wonder and light sprawled ahead as she awoke. Not all blood and abyss.
An entire garden of colors and brightness to love. To lead. To heal. The thorny crown she couldn’t shake from her brow would cause her veins to bleed a river of sorrow.
“Maybe she will carry a fiery redhead as her daughter.”
Her father couldn’t be more wrong.
“Do not curse her so. Her blonde curls are a blessing from our gods old and new. I will not have that Easternly husband of hers painting her future in such turmoil.”
Listening to them babble hurt more than the damned crown renting her awake in the first place from the nightmare turned paradise. Clearing her throat, she announced, “All the while, I stand here, listening to my parents determine my future without my desire to be something different.”
“Child, what are you doing here? You should be preparing for your wedding feast. The party starts this afternoon.”
Rose watched as Astrid bit on her tongue, no doubt to stop chastising. Well, she certainly could not call the blonde with grey-blue eyes to match her own that title any longer.
In the coming days, weeks, and months, their little girl would vanish from their lives to become a full-grown female of merit. A woman by noble birth with the soul of a saint and the mind of a queen. If only her mouth would be less disrespectful in the process.
“I don’t need to do more than change my clothes, since no one will let me leave the four walls you’d rather impression me in forever.”
“Sancta Terra is your ancestral home, and you should be staying here instead of moving so far to the East.”
Marko hissed, “Astrid, the monsters and their war with those Romans and Greeks shouldn’t be the reason to send our beloved precious away. At this moment, based on the bloodshed I’ve seen with my human eyes, I cannot trust leaving Sancta Terra in your hands with them so close.”
“She’s been here again asking for help, hasn’t she?”
“Has who been here, Mother? Or do you not want me to know?”
“That vampire.”
Marko reasoned, “Nephtyri is a friend. An old friend.”
“I am not sure how I feel about her. She doesn’t look much older than me, and yet she’s ancient. And her ways… they are so feminine.”
“She is a force you can learn from in a time where you’re learning how to be a wife. In exchange for escorting you to where Halfdan’s men will be waiting, she asked for supplies. I’ve given them. You’ll be traveling with her in three nights. There are some werewolves traveling with her, and she needs to keep the moon in mind.”
“More immortals?”
“Precious daughter, stop that curiosity growing with your sprawling curls,” Astrid warned while glaring at her husband.
“I know that look. I shall wait in my room for you two to argue. Father will arrive in a few hours to tell me to do as I like, and you’ll show in the morning to tell me to be a sensible lady with her wits intact.”
Astrid hitched her skirts a little higher and stalked past her beloved daughter. “I save you from worse Fates by being the parent you feel you do not need.”
“When is she going to learn that I have my own mind?”
“She learned that lesson with you the moment you spoke your first word.”
“No?”
“Precisely. Do not be in such a hurry to grow up as your time within our walls dwindles to hours. You might think of them yet in terms of days, but such would be foolish.”
“Why do you speak as if I might not ever see Sancta Terra again?”
Marko’s heavy hands landed on his daughter’s strong shoulders. “Raiders sought your hand instead of Halfdan. I deemed him the better choice for a warrior-like woman.”
“I am not a woman.”
“That is your issue. You thrive with a male’s blood in your veins, and yet you are the most beautiful of flowers. Your thorn reaches deeper than you pretend to acknowledge. Time with Nephtyri will teach you how to be a flower with softer petals.”
“Is that how you view us? Flowers?”
“There is a grave and a danger to the comparison. I am quite aware. You, Rose, will always be my flower. That will not change. No matter whose garden you call home. Now, prepare for our guests. And do not pretend to like or dislike her too much.”
She wrapped her arms tight around her father’s torso, almost until she could feel the forgiving bend of his ribs.
“Don’t look at your mother in that manner, girl.”
She sighed. “As long as you don’t call me curly one, we are safe from angering one another, Father. I want to take this journey and live in another kingdom. It would be the best idea for everyone involved. Myself, yourselves, and our people included. Our kingdom is small if you can call it a kingdom.”
“The princes abroad do, even if we do not. You are our eldest. Your mother wishes you to remain where your bloodline can support our family the best. I see where you might enjoy a grand adventure from a higher station.”
“Is it true about the vampire and her people helping us again?”
“You like it when she is here, though you pretend that such ruffles your feathers for your mother’s sake.”
“She brings much excitement in her wake. That’s the part mother cannot tolerate.”
“Your mother knows when and how to have fun. What she does not know or understand is how to be your mother as you grow older. You are fit and right to be a queen in her eyes, and in mine, I would see you safe and happy and in love.”
“Do you know the meaning of those words with the woman that you’ve married and adored for so long?”
“Good night, my blossoming Rose. I will be gone in the morning, but I’ll return for supper. We have guests.”
“Is High Priestess Nephtyri joining us?”
“You know she is a princess? Ah, your look of surprise says not so much. Dwell on that point deeply as you dream, daughter mine.”
She watched his back disappear. She wouldn’t show fear in front of him. She would only show wisdom. Grace. The care he and her mother instilled in her would be her light. She didn’t sleep well after departing from his tender care, but she would be damned if his mischief kept her awake longer than it needed too. Thought she maintained an entertaining façade once the vampire’s sunlight ready people moved into the grand hall, she passed out on one of their chairs in the den long before dusk arose.
The alto glimmer didn’t crescendo above a firm resolve of facts, but Rose heard the words leagues away. “Master Marko. My heart does well to see you alive again.”
“High Priestess Nephtyri. Welcome. Your mother, Princess Setti-na, did not mention how much like your grandmother you seem to be. Uran Shifan-ra Maghda-lira ”
“My Mother might sooner rather forget about the similarities between myself and the first daughter of Pharaohs born of our kind. Thank you for taking us in. I know your wife and your people are split on the decision you and I agreed upon.”
Marko laughed and embraced her. “You have been a dear friend of mine since the night you and Aryeh saved me as a young boy. We shall come to an accord.”
“How is the fae prince?”
“A prince no longer.”
My father knows about this woman’s life so long? And a prince of fae? What has he hidden from Mother and me for so long? Rose thought from where she stood around a corner to listen in, as was her favorite way to learn what her future could hold without her knowing its design. Her parents pretended to be so careful, so she took heed to play at their game.
To what end?
Marko pulled back to look Nephtyri’s golden eyes over with concern. “He isn’t, is he?”
“A king, yes. His parents were not able to make it as safely as us in the last exchange. The losses on all sides have been steep as of late, and we maneuver around our enemy when we can flank them hardest.”
“Please send my condolences. Tatiana is proud of her chosen son, though she has many children to pick in his place. What about his brothers? His sisters?”
“They are at war.”
“All of you are at war.”
“Not with the humans.”
“Then you mean with one another?”
Rose covered her mouth to silence the gasp neither of them could or should hear. She didn’t need to reveal her position when the best news would come her way at the most opportune moment. IN that moment, Nephtyri’s gaze snapped to meet Rose’s line of vision to the core.
Not just to her own grey-blue eyes.
Not her mind. Not her blood. Not her heart. Not her spiritual embrace of the world.
But to her true core.
Right to her soul.
Though the look could have passed an eternity of conversations between them, Nephtyri snapped her attention to Marko again in an instant. “The dark fae cannot be sated with curiosity for growing our connection to what is divinely given and should not be demanded. We’ve outlawed our own from using certain means of magic.”
Rose slid further into the shadows. Magic? What kind of magic? Divinely given? Does their gods play foul with the world again? Like in that story Father used to tell me as a child? Oh by the powers that are good in this world. He was talking about her. Nephtyri. He was telling me all about Nephtyri. This spoiled princess thinks she is some sort of magical priestess does she? What kind of power do they have in her world that permits females to be so special?
Marko started on another question but stopped short when he caught a pair of grey=blue eyes staring at him through the darkness over Nephtyri’s shoulder. “There is my little beauty. Would you care to say hello instead of lurking in shadows?”
“Father, is that the princess you were talking about?”
Nephtyri smirked. “I am not that yet.”
“You should be.” His daughter raised an eyebrow.
They didn’t curtsey or bow to one another, and Marko asked, “Do you remember meeting each other before?”
“The first time, you were a beautiful baby girl in your mother’s arms. You played with my hair when you were five.”
“That was you laying in that bed?”
“The wound was not as bad as the fevers in the days after. Thank you for being the one to look over my care.”
Marko didn’t hide his pride. “She is our favorite healer in times of battle for a reason. Her mother trained her in our ways. I hoped Aryeh would spend time teaching her the power of using her voice to soothe others instead of solely biting them with her lashing wit.”
“Father, do not betray my secrets so soon.”
Nephtyri stole the choice moment to laugh, and the alto sound rippled through the air as if a spell Marko could not understand were attached to it. “What is your name, girl?”
“They call me Rose when the mood strikes.”
“Otherwise, she is beauty, child, girl, any number of other names from her mother.”
“Do not speak of her as if she is thorny in my presence, Master Marko. You will only receive my guard in her honor as a thorn in reply.”
Rose laughed, her blonde curls bouncing with the bitter effort covering sardonic loneliness. Marko wished Rose had siblings, and he longed to make her a happy wife with children to some noble or royal who would protect her in comfort and laziness. It was not the life she knew. Though they were noble, and only just, his only child knew starvation as much as the local orphans. War was ever unkind.
Raiders and outsiders like Nephtyri were sometimes helpful, but they brought in their own dangers. “I appreciate you taking her side.”
“We females stick together, regardless of immortal or mortal ties.”
“Thank you, Priestess Nephtyri. Will you protect us with your best ability?”
“I have yet to best it, but I will give you a playful display to enjoy.”
“Rose, would you like to travel with her?”
“Of course, father. If she would have me as her escort and personal attendant.”
Nephtyri’s left hand landed on her collar bone to accent the nodded bow she gifted in reply. “You are far too formal, and yet I like you already. Thank you for offering to join me.”
“I am quite honored, Princess Nephtyri.”
“Well, you can travel with me under one condition. Never pair my name beside the title I will never carry. I do not mind it as a compliment until you learn our ways more, my lady.”
Rose fumbled with her words, so her father added, “Do forgive her rudeness. I have not educated her in your proper titles for mernakind.”
“It is not the habit of female humans to know them unless they loved one of our own for a reason or another.” Nephtyri took Rose’s hands in her own, squeezed them, and rubbed her arms with vigorous care. “You will learn the ins and outs of our ways just in time for you to forget them as we wish you well in the arms of your young prince.”
“Prince?” Rose gasped. I thought he was a minor noble.
Marko warned, “You can hardly call a tiny plot of land his kingdom. Once upon a time, when his clan and kin were strong, I might have believed that title. Now, he might as well be a lord, or a duke compared to the other powers growing along our shores alone.”
“As a winged friend of mine has been known to say, you humans do not agree on the meanings of file and rank across cultures with your words. Not like us merna. Your daughter, however, didn’t deserve this shock. A lady should prepare for her husband properly.”
Mark laughed at Nephtyri’s almost political answer. “This from the vampire who annulled a betrothal with the king of all faeries and a member of the elder council in her own government. You weave words as well as your mother said. When you see Shifan-ra Setti-na, please give her my regards.”
“With great honor.”
Ah, so that is how an Egyptian vampire princess meets up with a Norse noblewoman to become progenitor and Turnling. I am loving writing this more than I realized! If you want to read more of it, please click here to watch out for it on Ream Stories.
Thank you for reading and supporting all I do in whatever ways possible, so that I can continue to share my stories to heal others and to help other writers set their stories to phoenix mode for doing the same.
Take care of yourself, I know you’re worth it!
Sincerely,
Jenna O’Malley
Your Soul Writer
BONUS
If you read this far…
enjoy a new, bonus graphic of Lee and Frey for The Merna Annals (Book 3): Bound by Vengeance and Mind
