That Other Project (YA Book Preview)

Hey folks! So, on my last blog post, I discussed a particular project related to some of my work here in on FiMfiction. I mentioned then that I was working on two books, however. One was “Better With Robots,” and the other was a YA novel that was a bit further along. Well… about the latter…

The story has been an ongoing (well, on-again-off-again) project, but I’ve been slowly making strides toward getting it done. It’s still a ways off, but I think I’ve got some interesting stuff to share, and since the reception to my last preview was so positive, I thought I’d share a bit more.

The story is tentatively titled Beyond These Walls about a group of kids who wake up in a castle at the center of a massive city. Their memories are gone, but they possess strange new powers, and the empire that’s taken them in has plans for them and their newfound abilities…

I’ve still got a lot to do, but for a little taste, I thought I’d start with the first two chapters of the story. It introduces the main characters, including the adorable goblin girl seen above, as well as our main protagonist, a young lady with quick wits and low tolerance for everyone’s bullshit.

These sketches were done by my trusty illustrator Greenfinger, by the way.

But I digress: shall we begin?

1.

The Girl With No Name

The Girl With No Name awoke suddenly, her eyes popping open to the sight of dull stone and wooden rafters in the ceiling above her. She stared for a few moments before sitting up, realizing she was in a bed. Her head ached, so she rubbed her temples and took deep breaths until the pain faded away.

She looked all around her. She was alone in a small room that she had never seen before. Its walls were stone blocks, the floor was wooden planks, and an oil lamp cast a wavering, dim light over everything. Her bed, though simple, was soft and clean, and there was a pitcher of water and a glass on the table next to it.

“Where… am I?” she asked aloud. Then she coughed, feeling the dryness of her throat, so she reached for the water pitcher. The glass was just out of reach, but fortunately, the glass lifted up off the table and floated slowly through the air and into her hand, so she filled it to the top with water and guzzled it down.

“Pah!” she gasped. “Oh, wow, that’s refreshing. Now I…”

She froze. Wait a minute. Did that glass just float? Is this some sort of… magic glass?!

She held the empty glass up to her face, narrowing her eyes at it. It certainly looked ordinary, and it felt weighty enough as she turned it over in her hand. Still, to make sure, she held it out over the edge of the bed and let it slip from her fingers. 

The glass fell straight to the ground and smashed to bits.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” she muttered. “Guess it wasn’t magic.”

She looked around her room again.

“Wait… what if this is a hotel room? Oh great, they’re probably going to charge me for breaking their glass. And I don’t think they’re going to believe that their glasses have suddenly developed the ability to defy gravity.”

Having just murdered an innocent piece of glassware, she took notice of her bare, still-outstretched arm and hand. She then held up both of her hands to examine them. “Ten fingers. That’s a relief,” she muttered, wiggling them experimentally. Her skin was pale and pinkish with a bit of a tan, and her palm was rough as she traced a line across it with one finger. She knew they were her own hands, of course, but it felt like she was looking through the eyes of a stranger, wearing someone else’s body like a borrowed set of clothes. And that’s when she began to wonder:

Wait… what do I look like?

Her pulse and mind raced. Anyone would know their own appearance, she reasoned. And yet she didn’t. She paused, clutching the sheets close to herself as she struggled to remember. She gently touched her own face, running her fingers over it to try to get some impression of the outline of her features.

Don’t panic, she told herself. It won’t do you any good. She nodded back to herself in agreement, took a few calming breaths, and looked around the room. She saw that there was an oval mirror on the wall and a window with shutters on it through which she could see daylight streaming through the wooden slats.

She tossed off the bedsheets and looked down, seeing that she was in some kind of nightshirt that went down to her knees. She slid out of bed - on the side without the smashed glass - and walked over to the mirror to see who would stare back.

I sure hope I’m good-looking. Maybe I’ll recognize myself; yeah, I could be some nobleman’s daughter or a famous singer, or something like that! Okay then, it’s time for me to meet… me! 

The Girl With No Name put her hand to the mirror, touching it gently, her mouth dropping open as she took in the sight of the person staring back. She sucked in a deep breath at the sight before her. “Oh,” she gasped. “I… I have…”

She heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. “I have no idea who this is,” she finished irritably. “And if I am famous or important, I sure haven’t heard of me.” She tossed her hair back, smoothing down the bedhead frizz she’d woken up with.

She had shoulder-length brown hair, plain features, a slightly ruddy complexion, and blue eyes. She made a smile and saw that she apparently had all her teeth. She was slender, though not thin, and just a bit under five feet tall.

“Well, it could have been worse, but this is not the face of a famous singer or actress. Damn. And judging from these rough palms and this tan, something tells me I don’t have a bunch of maids waiting on me. So much for being a noble either. Not off to a good start, Me. Whoever the heck Me is. Er, I am.”

With the unsatisfying answer of what she looked like out of the way, that still left the question of where she was and, for that matter, how she got there. With that in mind, she turned to the window, walked to it, and undid the latch on the shutters, throwing them open.

And for the second time that day, she could only gasp: “Oh.”

In contrast to the tiny room, she now found herself looking out onto what seemed like infinity itself.

Outside her window was a gigantic city. She saw she was a few hundred feet above the ground, and just below her was a wide courtyard through which she saw a few dozen knights in armor marching in sync. Around her were several other large buildings, and she realized she must be in some massive tower. Beyond the area around her was a high wall, and beyond that were numerous towers and grand estates and mansions as well as cathedrals with sharp, ornate spires reaching up toward the heavens.

And yet, there was another wall beyond that, and out even further she could barely see that the city went on and on all the way to the horizon which was marked, once again, by yet another wall, this one even more enormous than the others, dividing the horizon where it met the sky.

This city was endless. The wall at the very distant edge of her vision might as well be the very edge of the world itself.

She looked on in silent awe. Then she realized that - amazing as the sight was - she still recognized absolutely none of what she was seeing and thus still had no idea where she was. 

She took another calming breath, pushing down the panic that had been threatening to erupt since she woke up. Instead, she opted for the most direct route to getting some answers and turned her attention to the knights marching stiffly through the courtyard below.

“Hey!” she shouted down at the knights.

Several of the knights tripped as they marched, causing several to collide into each other with a clatter and clanging of their armor and one or two even drew their swords as they looked about frantically for whoever had just shouted.

“Oof,” she said quietly, wincing. More loudly, she shouted “Up here!” and waved a hand.

One of the knights saw this and pointed up at her, causing the others to look up as well.

“Uh, hi!” she shouted, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry to bother your, uh, knight practice or whatever, but can any of you tell me where I am?”

The knights looked at each other in confusion. She thought they were talking to each other but she had no idea what they were saying. Then one of them raised his visor, cupped his hands to his mouth, and yelled up to her, “Seems you’re in a window, miss!”

Another knight smacked him on the back of the head.

“No no no, I know that!” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “You see, I just woke up here and have no idea how I got here, so if someone could maybe help me out and tell me the name of—”

She was interrupted by the sound of the door to her room as it burst open, squealing on its hinges like an angry cat as someone stepped in.

“Oh, never mind, someone’s here now!” she called down, waving to them. “Thanks anyway, though! Keep on, uh, knighting the good knight, as they say... or maybe they don’t, I wouldn’t know!”

“Step away from that window and stop that shouting at once!” yelled a woman as she swiftly strode into the room, shoving the girl away from the window.

The woman appeared to be middle-aged with high cheekbones. Her oval spectacles reflected the light from the window in a way that almost made them almost glow, and she wore an expression so sour that it looked like she had been fed nothing but lemons from birth. She wore a dark blouse and a skirt that went down to her calves. She wore her dark brown hair up in a tight bun.

“Oh, sorry,” the girl said. “I just—”

“Hush!” the woman snapped, her voice not raised in the slightest as she held up two fingers pinched together. She roughly closed the shutters on the window and then resumed her hard gaze. “Nurse, please check her.”

“Yes, my lady,” said the nurse who entered the room behind her. The nurse came up to the girl, holding her face, examining her closely, asking her to raise one arm, then another, examining her face, asking her to open her mouth, peering closely at one eye then another while holding up a match to check her pupil dilation.

“She seems to be fine, my lady.”

“Very good,” the sour-faced woman said to the nurse. “You are dismissed.”

“It might be wise to give her a more thorough physical exam—”

“She’s up and about and robust enough to bray like a donkey to our honored knights, isn’t she?” 

“Hey hey, hang on,” the girl said, frowning, “I object to the term ‘bray.’ Or at least to the ‘donkey’ part. I at least request a better animal’s bray to be compared to when I’m being a jerk! I demand equal bray for equal jerk!”

The sour-faced woman rolled her eyes. “She’s fine, judging by that mouth of hers. That will be all, nurse,” she said, waving her off.

“Yes, my lady,” the nurse said, giving the girl a quick glance as she hurried out of the room.

“Now then, young lady,” the woman said, her arms folded behind her back as she approached her. “Am I correct in thinking that you do not know where you are?”

The girl nodded.

“Ah ah ah,” the woman said, wagging a long, slender finger. “We do not rattle our brains like that. Respond with ‘Yes, ma’am’ or ‘No, ma’am,’ if you please.”

“Oh, uh, yes, ma’am. That’s right.” She smiled politely. “You see, I woke up in this bed and—”

“Hush!” the woman snapped again. “You will answer my questions promptly and precisely, young lady, and wait for my permission to elaborate.”

The girl’s smile faded. She crossed her arms.

The woman’s sour expression increased by a factor of several more lemons, but she pressed on.

“Do you remember how you came here? Or why?”

“No, ma’am,” the girl said tersely.

“Do you know where you’re from originally? Your country? Your hometown?”

The girl froze. Somehow, that question hadn’t crossed her mind. “I… no. I don’t…”

The woman cleared her throat.

“...ma’am,” the girl added.

The woman nodded in approval. “I see. Then do you happen to remember your own name?”

The girl began to sweat. Though she’d already established that she didn’t know who she was, the woman’s questions were thrusting a very real possibility in her face: that nobody there knew who she was. She was in a strange, unfamiliar place in a strange, unfamiliar body talking to a strange, unfamiliar woman and, she realized as that wave of panic threatened again to consume her, it was looking like the questions she had about herself might not be answered.

“No, ma’am,” she said, feeling herself grow dizzy. “I don’t… that is, I can’t remember…”

The woman raised her head. “I see.” And then she nodded and said: “As expected.”

The Girl With No Name looked up at her, aghast. “What do you mean ‘as expected?’ None of this is expected!”

“Hush!” the woman snapped again. “I told you to—”

“No, you hush!” the girl yelled, stomping her foot and pointing a finger at her. “I don’t know who or where I am, and you’re just barking orders at me! And I don’t even know who you are either or why I should even care!” she screamed. She rolled up her sleeves and began to move toward the woman. “What I need now is for you to—”

The woman swiftly held out her hand, and a dark, swirling orb of blackish-purple energy appeared in her upturned palm, and she casually tossed it at the girl’s feet. It expanded and immediately the girl felt like her feet were made of lead and she stumbled forward, falling onto her face. It was like the floor itself had suddenly seized her feet and she could no longer lift them.

“I realize this all seems sudden and you have many questions,” the woman said, leaning down. “I will gladly provide you with all the answers you need to know in due time, little girl, but only if you cooperate. I am in charge here, so we will follow procedure as I dictate it to you.” She smirked. “Now, do we understand each other?”

The girl gritted her teeth, trying to push herself up, but it felt as though there was a massive weight pressing down on her back. Finally, she heaved a sigh and nodded. Getting upset wasn’t going to get her anywhere, she realized, at least not right now.

Still, she forced herself as far up as she could, raising her head up enough to meet the woman’s eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” she replied.

“Very good,” the woman said, snapping her fingers.

The black energy and the weight vanished in an instant. The girl got to her feet, standing up straight.

“Now, before we do anything else, you need a bath and a proper set of clothing,” the woman said, turning to leave the room. 

“Bath?” the girl asked. She raised an arm and sniffed, then made a face. “Oh. Ew.” 

Plain-looking, probably poor, and stinky too, she noted to herself. Just great. I really need a do-over on this amnesia; maybe next time I’ll wake up as someone better.

The woman cleared her throat, getting her attention. “We don’t have time for this nonsense,” she said. “Now, come along, Patricia.”

The girl nodded absentmindedly but then froze. “‘Patricia?’ I’m sorry, ma’am, but is that… I mean…”

“Correct,” the woman said, turning back to her with a smirk. “That is your name: Patricia. And I am your new caretaker and instructor. You may address me as Lady Batavia.”

The girl, Patricia, nodded. “I see,” she muttered. “Wait, how did you do that? That thing a moment ago where you made me… heavier?” she asked, quickly adding “Ma’am.”

Batavia grinned. “I am one of the Blesséd,” she replied. “As are you. You will discover your own Blessing in time, dear child. Consider this the first step on a long and wondrous journey.”

Patricia nodded numbly and followed Batavia out of the room. She had no memory of the path that had led her to this place, so, she supposed, there was nowhere to go but forward.

2.

Girls and Boys

Patricia couldn’t remember the last bath she’d taken, of course, but she had the impression that they were supposed to be warm and relaxing.

Instead, Lady Batavia had shoved her in a room with a few maidservants who’d whisked off her nightshirt, tossed her naked and protesting into a large wooden tub of cold water, and poured buckets of even colder water over her when she came up sputtering and protesting at the temperature and indignity. Such protests went unheard, however, as the maidservants held her down and scrubbed her from head to toe with rough brushes and “massaged” shampoo into her hair with hands that felt like eagle talons that were making a decent effort at shredding her scalp off to get at her delicious brains.

When the nurses had finished, they yanked her out of the water, toweled her off, and shoved a parcel of clean clothes into her arms before leaving, all without ever having said a single word other than when the one in charge of her armpits gave her a whiff and then yelled, “More soap!”

The parcel had contained a rather simple white shirt, a blue skirt, stockings, and a pair of scuffed brown leather shoes. They not only fit perfectly, she felt a strange sense of familiarity wearing them, so she supposed that these clothes must have been hers originally.

Once she’d dressed, Patricia walked out of the torture chamber posing as a bathroom with a grimace on her face and saw Lady Batavia standing there expectantly.

“Well, it took you long enough,” Batavia said, consulting a pocket watch.

Patricia blinked. “Oh, sorry, ma’am,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “but you can blame those ladies. I specifically asked for the Express treatment; they apparently thought I should have the ‘Deluxe, Deep Clean, Scour-Your-Skin-Off’ option.”

“Hmph,” Batavia sniffed. “It might have been an improvement on your comrades.”

Patrica raised an eyebrow. “Comrades?” Wait, what would’ve been an improvement? she wondered.

“Yes, we’ll be meeting them shortly,” she said, beckoning for her to follow as she began making her way up the hallway. “Also, I don’t appreciate smart mouths.”

“I’ll try to dumb it down for you next time, ma’am.”

Batavia whirled around, her eye twitching.

Patricia only stared back, her face expressionless as she tilted her head. “Anything wrong, ma’am?”

Batavia wordlessly turned away to continue down the hallway. Patricia allowed herself a small, victorious grin as she followed.

***

Batavia led her through more stone corridors and up a spiral staircase and finally to two wooden doors facing each other across the hallway that looked almost exactly like all the others they’d passed along the way. There was a symbol on a placard next to each door on the wall.

“This symbol means ‘female,’” Batavia said, tapping the placard. “This will be your room. You’ll be sharing it with two other young ladies. The other room,” she said, gesturing to the one across the hallway, “is for the boys. There are two of them. You’ll have the chance to meet them a bit later.”

Batavia gave a quick knock on the girls’ room’s door and opened it, gesturing for Patricia to go inside first.

Patricia entered and found herself in a long room with three beds, two on her left, one on her right, and a small window at the far end of the room. Each bed had a chest at the end of it, presumably for supplies and personal effects. A carpet ran down the center of the room, which was just about the only thing that added any semblance of style to the room compared to the others they’d passed on the way. Most of the rooms had nothing more than a bed, and a few just had blankets laid on the floor, and Patricia half expected to see a sign that said “I.O.U. 1 bed here.” So, all things considered, this wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

It was then that Patricia noticed that one of the beds was occupied. There was a girl lying there with her hands behind her head and one of her legs drawn up slightly. The girl popped open her eyes once Patricia and Batavia had entered. 

The girl on the bed turned her head toward them and smirked. “Ah,” she said, getting off the bed and standing to her full height. “You are here. Good. I was starting to get bored.”

The girl was a head taller than Patricia with a lean, lithe physique. Judging by her face and figure, was probably a few years older than her as well. Her skin was dark brown, and her hair was very short. She wore a close-fitting shirt and leather pants along with boots that went up to her calves. Most striking to Patricia, however, were her two long, pointed ears that angled out and slightly upward.

An elf? Patricia wondered to herself.

“So this is the third girl you spoke of, Lady Batavia?” the tall girl asked.

“Yes,” Batavia answered. Then she frowned. “Wait, where’s the other one?”

“H-here, ma’am!” a quiet voice called from the corner.

Patricia had to stand on her toes to see that there was a cloaked figure huddling in the corner, her back turned to them all.

“She has been like that for a while,” the first girl said with a shrug. “I did nothing more than introduce myself and she fled to that corner.”

“Well, never mind that for now,” Batavia said. She placed a hand on Patricia’s shoulder. “This is Patricia. Perhaps you three should make your introductions and decide your sleeping arrangements. You will be working closely with each other for the time being, so I suggest you get acquainted. Now, I must retrieve the young gentlemen and—”

“You said you would answer our questions when you returned,” the tall girl said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“No, I said I would return and answer your questions soon,” Batavia replied, narrowing her eyes as she peered over her spectacles. “I did not say I would do so at the same time. Have patience.”

The tall girl clicked her tongue as she looked away.

“Well, go on, Patricia,” Batavia said, roughly shoving her forward at the elf girl. “Meet your comrades. I’ll return shortly, so be quick about it.”

Patricia looked over her shoulder and saw Batavia hurrying out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Gee, why not pick me up and just throw me at her, ma’am? Patricia thought to herself. If you’d shoved me any harder, I’d be halfway through her.

She then turned her attention to the tall girl who was now strolling over to her and looking at her while holding her chin between two fingers. Patricia was starting to feel like a piece of meat being judged at the market, and so did her best to look more like prime rib and less like a pile of yesterday’s giblets.

“Hm. I had hoped our third comrade would be closer to my own age,” the tall girl said, frowning as she leaned in closer to inspect her. “But at least you are older than that one,” she added, thumbing in the direction of the girl in the corner who whimpered at being mentioned.

Patricia managed a smile. “Hi there!” she said. “I’m Patricia. Apparently.”

The tall girl’s eyes widened. “Apparently?” she echoed.

“Well, I can’t seem to remember anything before I woke up in this tower,” she said. “I mean, it is a tower, right? This feels like a tower.”

“Indeed it is,” the tall girl replied flatly.

“Well, there we go!” Patricia said, rubbing her hands together nervously. “Um… so, I see you’re an elf! How’s, uh… how’s that working out for you?” she finished, cringing inwardly so hard that she nearly imploded.

The tall girl’s eyes bulged and she held up her head. “Did you just assume that I am an elf because of my ears, human?!”

“Huh? Oh, no, I—”

“Do you simply assume that every person with slightly pointed ears is some manner of elf? Are you some sort of bigot?!”

“Oh, no no no, I—”

Patricia paused, locking eyes with the girl, and then rubbed her chin.

“Actually, wait just a minute. Since I don’t know anything about who I was before about an hour ago, I guess it’s possible that I do assume that,” she said. “I guess I could have been a bigot before. But I also don’t know for certain that I’m a human…” 

Then she smirked. “In fact, how dare you assume that I’m a human!” she shouted, jutting her chin out and looking the tall girl right in the eye, mimicking her offended expression. “For all you know, maybe I’m actually an elf with underdeveloped ears! Having round ears is probably a sore topic of conversation for me if I’m an elf… unless I’m not, in which case it isn’t! What nerve! I’m hypothetically maybe quite outraged!”

The tall girl blinked. Her stern expression began to waver and her lips tightened, struggling against the grin that she was obviously fighting to suppress. Finally, she let the smile win out and beamed as she clapped Patricia heavily on the shoulder.

“Well done! Others would become defensive or simply retreat into themselves, but you do not shrink from confrontation. I respect that! But yes, to answer your question, I am an elf. And you, I presume, are indeed a human.”

Patricia grinned. “Well, it sure seems that way, though I’m not really sure how I’d check.”

“Then I shall introduce myself to you, Patricia,” the tall girl said, making a fist and holding it to her chest. “I am called Liawen. Or, at least, that is what Lady Batavia has told me. It seems that we all lack memories from before we came here. It fills me with questions, and I do not appreciate that woman’s silence, but I believe it would be wise to obey her for now.”

“I agree. Did she do that heavy thing to you too?” Patricia asked.

Liawen raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘heavy thing’?”

Patricia shook her head, deciding it would take too much time to explain. “Never mind, I’ll tell you later,” she said, offering her hand. “Nice to meet you, Liawen!”

Liawen grinned. “And the same to you, my new friend!” she said, seizing Patricia’s hand in a vice-like grip of a handshake that threatened to fuse her fingers into a single digit.

Patricia extracted her aching hand from Liawen’s and peered around her to look at the girl in the corner.

“So, um… what about her?” she asked.

Liawen shrugged. “I tried to talk to her, but she screamed and ran away.”

Patricia gave her a sideways glance. “Were you as ‘assertive’ with her as you were with me?” she asked.

Liawen winced. “Ah. Well, I suppose I was a bit forceful,” she admitted. “I went to her and said ‘You there! Tell me what you are called!’ and then, once I saw her features, I asked ‘What manner of creature are you?!’” She ran her tongue around her cheek. “I can see how that may have seemed, as you say, ‘assertive.’”

“Oh, you think?!” Patricia asked, rolling her eyes.

Liawen looked away. “I merely wanted to assess her character. Hmph!” She turned her back suddenly. “Very well, then, human. If you are so inclined, then perhaps you can coax her to speak!”

Patricia took a deep breath and made her way over to the girl huddling in the corner. She knelt down behind her. “Um, hello?” she asked softly.

“J-just leave me alone!” the girl cried, refusing to face her.

Patricia could tell she was small, even scrunched in like she was, and probably a bit younger than herself.

“If that’s what you really want, I will,” Patricia said softly. “But it sounds like we’re going to be living together for a little while, so we should probably get to know each other sooner rather than later. I think I’d really like to meet you.”

The girl kept silent, but her shuddering decreased noticeably.

“I’m Patricia,” she said. “But you probably heard me talking with Liawen over there. Do you want to tell me your name?”

The girl in the corner was quiet for a moment, but then she muttered something in response.

“Hm?” Patricia asked, cupping her hand to her ear. “I’m sorry, could you please say that again?”

“...Tabilox,” the girl replied. “I’m Tabilox.”

Patricia grinned. “That’s a really pretty name,” she said.

“...It is?” Tabilox asked.

“Yeah, I like it!” Patricia said. “You and Liawen both have pretty names. I’m kind of envious; my name sounds like someone sneezing.”

The girl in the corner snorted, obviously stifling a laugh. “N-no it doesn’t,” she said. “It’s a good name.”

“Well, thanks for saying so,” Patricia said. “Listen, if you don’t want to talk, that’s okay. We can talk later. But if you do, I’m right here. You can take your time.”

At first, Tabilox said nothing. Then, just as Patricia was about to turn and leave her alone, she asked, “Aren’t you scared?”

Patricia paused. “Scared?” she asked.

“Not knowing who you are or where you came from?” Tabilox continued. “I am. I’m really scared. But you and the elf girl don’t seem to be.”

“Well, sure, I guess I am, a little,” Patricia said. “Not knowing anything about yourself or what’s going on is pretty scary. But honestly, the scariest thing so far was that stupid bath they gave me. I thought they were going to pull my hair out!”

Tabilox shuddered. “They said they couldn’t wash it off. And then they laughed.”

“Wash what off?” Patricia asked.

“The… the green,” she replied.

Then she turned to face her, pulling back the hood of her cloak.

The girl before her had bright green skin. Her large, yellow eyes shifted back and forth nervously. Her black hair was long and unkempt, and her ears were even larger than Liawen’s, with several earrings embedded in them. The ears twitched, moving up and down. She was wringing her hands anxiously, her fingers slender and bony. Her clothes were rustic, barely better than ill-fitting rags, with her black cloak being the most notable piece of attire that she wore.

Patricia couldn’t remember seeing an elf before, she realized, but she’d known what one was. Likewise, she somehow knew what this girl was too.

“You’re a goblin!” she exclaimed.

“Y-yes,” Tabilox said. “…I’m sorry.”

Patricia tilted her head to the side. “Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“Well… I know people don’t like goblins. Most people.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she quickly added.

Patricia gave her a gentle smile. “Well, I don’t know about most people. As far as I know, you’re the first goblin I’ve met, and I like you just fine. So don’t apologize, okay?”

Tabilox raised her head. Her lip quivered a moment, but then she smiled. “Sure,” she said. “Okay!”

She offered her hand to Patricia, who shook it eagerly, though taking care not to be as rough as Liawen was with her handshakes.

Then Liawen cleared her throat. “Ah. Well, I…”

The two of them looked over to see that Liawen was rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she approached them.

“I am sorry for frightening you, little goblin,” she said.

“Tabilox,” Patricia said, giving her a pointed look as she stood up to greet her. “We all have names. Right now, other than the clothes on our backs, our names are the only things we have, so let’s use them, please.”

“Well said!” Liawen said, nodding emphatically. “In that case, I am sorry for treating you so roughly, Tabilox. I would be honored to call you a friend. Please, do not be afraid of me any longer. I meant you no harm.”

Tabilox stood up and smiled. “All right,” she said. “I’m glad to meet both of you.”

Patricia also smiled. Despite her situation, at least she wasn’t alone. And even though their introductions were a little rough, she’d already taken a liking to the cocky elven girl and the timid little goblin she’d be sharing a room with.

Then they heard the door open, and they turned to see Batavia standing in the doorway.

Patricia frowned, noting that Tabilox retreated behind her, but Liawen actually stepped forward, placing herself between Batavia and the others.

“Well, it seems you’ve introduced yourselves,” Batavia said. “Good. Come with me, and I’ll introduce the two young men you’ll be working alongside.”

“What do you mean by that?” Patricia asked.

Batavia raised an eyebrow. “What do I mean by what, exactly? You know what ‘men’ are, don’t you?”

“Sure, they’re those things you use to kill spiders, open jars, and get things off shelves,” Patricia replied with a roll of her eyes. “But my point is that you said we’d be ‘working’ with each other earlier. And you said it again, just now. Well, what are we ‘working’ on?” she asked. “Ma’am,” she added for good measure.

Batavia grinned. “My my… you’re quite observant, young lady.”

Patricia folded her arms and grinned.

“Unfortunately, that will also have to wait until we’ve all gotten to know each other. If you’ll follow me…”

Seeing no other option, they followed her out across the hall and into the room facing theirs.

The room they entered was identical to their own, except that it only had two beds facing each other. Standing in the center of the room was a boy who bowed at the waist to them once they’d all entered.

“Hello!” he said once he’d bowed, flashing a broad grin. “I’m so glad to meet you!”

The boy was just slightly taller than Liawen and had vibrant blue skin, pink eyes, and short, snow white hair that was combed neatly. He had a lean but muscular body and wore a sleeveless white vest, bulky brown trousers that puffed around his thighs, and a pair of high black boots.

He stepped forward and took Patricia’s hand in both of his, startling her with the sudden handshake and the noticeable warmth of his hands. “It’s great to meet some other people my own age here!” he said eagerly. “I’m B’Rad!” he added (pronouncing it like ‘buh-rahd.’) “What are your names?”

Patricia was too startled by this sudden display of enthusiasm to respond, but then she realized that it was the first openly warm greeting she’d received since waking up, so she quickly recovered and returned his smile. “I’m Patricia,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you too!”

His grin widened, and he next went to Liawen who, rather than offer a handshake, put out her hand palm-down in a ladylike manner. “Liawen,” she said. “Honored.”

B’Rad paused, looking at her hand in confusion, but then grinned. “Ohhh, I get it! You must be one of those fancy ladies!” he said.

Liawen raised an eyebrow as she continued holding out her hand. “I beg your pardon?” 

B’Rad bent his knees slightly, took her hand and leaned toward it, his lips puckering.

Liawen’s eyes bulged, but before she could react or B’Rad could plant a kiss on her hand, Lady Batavia stepped forward between them, shoving the boy back.

“No no no!” she exclaimed hurriedly. “None of that business! No unnecessary contact between young ladies and gentlemen will be tolerated!”

B’Rad shut his eyes, bowing to her. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said quietly. “I thought it was expected. I don’t think I’ve met an elf before.” He looked back to Liawen. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Liawen cracked a smile. “I… I suppose I can this once,” she said, turning away slightly, tracing a finger along her ear.

B’Rad next moved to Tabilox, who’d stuck close to Patricia the whole time. He again flashed a smile and bent down to look at her on her level. “Wow, what an adorable goblin girl!” he said. “What’s your name?”

She grinned, looking away as she wrung her hands, giggling nervously. “T-Tabilox,” she stammered, breaking into a sweat. “It’s nice to meet you. Um, I’m sorry, but aren’t you an Az’Huran?”

He gasped, his eyes lighting up. “I am! How did you know that?”

Tabilox considered the question. “I can’t remember anything specific, but I think goblins and your people must have some sort of contact with each other.” She paused, peering around him to look around the room. “Um, I’m sorry, but Lady Batavia said there would be two of you. Where’s the other one?”

“A very good question,” Batavia said, raising an eyebrow. “B’Rad, where has Grub gone? I told you to watch him. If he’s wandered off…”

B’Rad chuckled. “You didn’t notice him? He’s been here the whole time!” he exclaimed. “Actually, he seems very interested in you, Tabilox.” He pointed behind her.

“Huh?” she asked as she and the others turned.

A short, grayish-green creature no taller than herself was standing directly behind her, his nose in the air as he sniffed her.

Tabilox shrieked and leaped onto Patricia, scrambling up the taller girl like she was a tree. “Ogre!” she screamed.

“Tabilox, cut it out!” Patricia cried, trying to keep her balance as Tabilox scrambled up to the top of her head as if she were desperately attempting to metamorphose into a hat. “Will you relax? He’s not even doing anything!”

Tabilox looked down and saw that the ogre boy was looking up at her with curiosity but was otherwise standing still with his arms at his sides. He wore a simple shirt made of some sort of animal pelt and a woolen kilt, but his feet were bare. His legs were stubby, but his arms were rather long for his size, and his prominent forearms were bulging with muscle. He was bald save for a simple tuft of orange hair on the top of his head. His eyes were beady and black, and he had a large lower jaw from which a pair of small, tusk-like teeth protruded upward.

“W-well, he shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!” Tabilox exclaimed, climbing down from her perch on Patricia’s head.

“She’s right, Grub,” B’Rad said, going to the smaller boy. “I know you were just curious, but you should apologize.”

Grub tilted his head at him, then he turned and looked up at Tabilox.

“Myah!” he blurted and then dashed off toward his bed, leaping onto it and bouncing on it eagerly.

“Does that mean ‘I apologize,’ in Ogrish?” Liawen asked.

B’Rad shrugged. “Beats me,” he replied. “He understands Mutual-linga but doesn’t seem to speak very much. Or at all, really. He makes a few sounds like that, but he seems like a nice kid.”

“Regardless,” Batavia said, cutting in, “I’m certain that we can drill some civility into that feral boy eventually. B’Rad, as his senior, may I trust that you’ll try to keep him out of trouble? We can’t have him going around sniffing people like some manner of beast.”

“I’ll try, ma’am!” B’Rad said, even giving her a strange salute.

Batavia rolled her eyes. “Well, putting that aside, at least now that you’ve acquainted yourselves with each other,” she said, gesturing to the door, “why don’t we get you more familiarized with your surroundings and your situation?”

The five of them looked at each other and then let Batavia lead them out of the room.

They went up the hall, turned a corner, up a flight of stairs, and arrived at a pair of large double doors. Batavia threw the doors wide open, and they were suddenly blinded by a flood of daylight. They held up their arms to shield their eyes until they adjusted, then followed Batavia through to the outside.

Liawen was the first to speak, and she said just one word in an awed whisper: “Incredible…”

Patricia’s eyes adjusted, but her brain hadn’t yet caught up. Instead, she only stared on, her mouth open as she and the others took in the sight around them.

They were on a stone bridge between the building they’d just left and another, far more ornate building with arched stained glass windows, gargoyles, and tall steeples. They were high above the ground and from where they stood Patricia could see that both buildings were dwarfed by two truly monolithic buildings that took up the greatest amount of space in this area at the heart of the vast city.

The first was a fantastic palace of alabaster stone with dozens of golden spires and fifty-foot statues of great figures clad in robes and crowns holding swords and scepters. Guards in brightly-colored armor stood watch along the sheer castle walls, spears and crossbows at the ready. This palace towered over all other buildings, mountainous in its height and awe-inspiring in its grandeur.

Adjacent to it was another building, equally grandiose but completely different in appearance. Unlike the lavish, bright palace, this building was made of duller stone, but every wall was carved with intricate designs, including a repeating symbol of a twelve-pointed pictogram. The building’s roof was a massive dome made up of stained glass filled with a cacophony of scenes and human figures, though Patrica couldn’t tell what scenes they depicted, at least not from where they stood. Most notable was that the building had twelve sides and each side was marked by a monolithic statue of a different figure, each one towering. One, for instance, was a beautiful woman holding a silvery orb aloft in her hands. Another was a muscular man with a hammer.

And all around them, contained by the innermost of the walls Patricia had seen earlier, were dozens of smaller buildings of varying sizes and designs, and people in armor or fancy dresses or priestly robes crisscrossed the ground between them far below.

“Welcome, children!” Batavia exclaimed, throwing her arms wide in a grandiose gesture. “You are here because you have been granted a gift. And not any gift, but one from the very Gods! You each possess an ability we simply refer to as ‘the Blessing.’ And as one of the Blesséd, you have been chosen to serve the Gods here in Edoma, the greatest city in all the world! 

“I know all this because, many years ago, I too was given the Blessing, and now the Gods call me to guide you on your journey. Here, under the guidance of the Holy Order of the Twelve Deities, you will learn how to harness your Blessings and help to vanquish darkness from the world!”

They all stood in silence, still stunned by the sights and absorbing the information about who their hosts were.

“These two great structures,” Batavia continued, “are the Royal Palace of Edoma and the Great Temple of the Holy Pantheon, where the highest officials of the order may pass on their decrees to serve the will of the Twelve Gods, and where services are held for citizens of the Central Ring.”

“Central Ring?” Patricia echoed.

“The section of Edoma contained within the innermost wall,” Batavia explained. “It is home to the royal family, the church, and numerous facilities related to the most important duties of both. Your home is in the Bastion Barracks, a temporary housing for soldiers, a clinic, and other purposes.”

“Other purposes meaning us,” Liawen remarked.

“Yes, exactly,” Batavia said quickly, eager to maintain her momentum. “But greater accommodations may be in your future, should you earn them through your service.”

Patricia swallowed. “This is an incredible place, ma’am,” she said, holding up a hand. “But what do you mean, ‘service?’ What do you want us to do, exactly? You still haven’t explained that.”

Batavia’s smile grew wider. “You will find that out very soon, my dear child. But it can wait for now. After all, you’ve all had a busy day, so let us proceed across this bridge to the seminary to get your documents and supplies, and then we’ll get you all a nice dinner.”

Grub sprang forward, his stomach gurgling loudly. It was joined by the sound of the rest of their bellies.

“Ngah?” Grub asked, opening his mouth and pointing to it.

“Yes, little ogre, food,” Batavia said slowly, her smile becoming more forced. “After we tend to our errands.”

Grub sulked, rubbing his belly, but B’Rad scooped him up and placed him on his shoulders.

“Well, you heard her, everyone!” he said, grinning broadly. “The sooner we take care of this, the sooner we can eat!”

They all went toward the seminary, but Patricia lingered, casting a long glance at the great palace and temple before her. The setting sun was starting to cast a reddish-orange glow on the buildings and though her belly rumbled, part of her couldn’t help but feel like she should turn tail and run from the overwhelming situation she found herself in.

But where would I even run to? she wondered.

“Patricia?” Tabilox called, pausing when she noticed that her new friend wasn’t with them. “Aren’t you coming?”

Patricia sighed but gave her a smile as she sped up her pace and joined them. “Sure,” she said. “No point just standing still, after all.”

That’s all for now, folks. Hope you’ve enjoyed it, and feel free to leave comments or questions!

Thank you again for all your positivity and support. I hope to have more horsewords out sometime in the near future, so keep your eyes peeled in the meantime. 

Comments

[Reese]

Good luck!
(Though I did skip the book preview here, sorry. I am... not flush with time at present, and quite behind on FIMFiction, as evidenced by me leaving this comment now. Still, I do hope this goes well. :))