Chatterbox: Inkwell

Storm of the Dark Castle. Or, my NaNoWriMo 2018 novel. So, I tried posting this a few days ago, (Cough cough week and a half Cough cough) but it's kinda just... *Makes wierd 'bloop'ing noise*. But I decide to repost it! NOTE: This is a first draft, so it is IN NO WAY FINAL!

RANDOM LETTER FROM MC: 

If you're reading this, it means that all has gone wrong. I have failed in my quest, and Farway is doomed. If you're reading this, it means that this is my only hope. If you're reading this, it means I have Transported this letter to Earth in the hopes that someone with any spark of Magical power will find it, read it, and use it to come to Gaia and continue my Quest. if you can, I plead that you use the following Incantation to transport yourself here, and continue my Quest. However, I do not wish you to go into this quest blind. Read the manuscript also enclosed in this package, and make your decision after. Now comes the Incantation:

Follow Skymark, Follow Earth, Follow Ignis, Follow Aquae, Follow Terra. Follow Venti, Follow Fey, Follow Fell.

Follow Elements, Follow Time, Follow through Eternal Night. 

Follow through the Place of Fay, Follow through Metal and Sky. Follow through Chaotic Mist, Follow through to Gaia. 

Follow from the Central Realm, Follow to the Land of Charms.

Follow into Gaia bright, Follow to the place of Night.

Follow there to Farway Great, 

Magicae Portalis!

The following is a manuscript of the events of my Quest, and will be Magically updated every time there is a major event. Read it well, and know this: This is not just a danger for Gaia, but Earth and every other world as well.

Leila Thorne, Witch of the Ice Havens 

PROLOGUE:

A cloak flaps in the wind as its wearer pushes through the raging snowstorm. "Venti Obstructionum!" the figure says, and, with a flash of light, there is a circle of calm around them. they look around to check for onlookers, but they are the only one crazy enough to be out now. Satisfied, they hold up an amulet. "Ianuae Magicae Denor Village!" They disappear in a flash of blue light. 

Unbeknownst to them, there was someone else in the snowstorm. They too held up an amulet, and copied the words of the other figure.

The figure from before ran up the steps of a house, their cloak almost tripping them. They knocked on the door, and a man with wild grey eyes and dark hair answered the door. "Were you followed?" the man asked in a hushed whisper. 

"I don't think so, but you can never be too careful."

"I'll put up the shields." He mutters something under his breath, and a mist races through his fingers, then disappears. The windows tint blue. The figure lowers her hood and smiles. She embraces the man. "How's Leila?"

"Well, and active as a serpent in a snowstorm!" 

"So, asleep?"

"Er, yes."

She smiles, her whitish blond hair falling around her face as she undoes the neat ponytail she had it in. "Anyway, how are you doing today, Azreal?"

"Good, Lyra. You?"

"Good." He smiles, and his face suddenly hardens.

"Did you run into any Valcor soldiers?"

"Yes, but they left me well enough alone."

"Good. We don't need any more trouble than we're already in."

"Yes. Did you know they're outlawing magic?"

"What? How dare the-"

"Azreal!"

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"I know."

"Hmmph."

"Anyway, all magic?"

"Yeah, and guess what the penalty is."

"Prison?"

"Burning."

"But that's barbaric! Do they want to be the Xarvan Empire now?"

"Actually... Yes. They've proclaimed a new holiday celebrating the "Sacrifice" of the Xarvan Empire in their failed attempt to destroy the 'evil Sorcerers'"

"No."

"Yeah."

"How dare the foul Trenarvits!" (Tranarvit is a word that i will not bother translating, as it would have to be censored)

"Language!"

"Don't scold me."

Whatever she was going to say was drowned out by a yell of "Found  'em!" 

They stared at each other in horror. "Get Leila and go!" said Lyra, a steely glint in her vivid green eyes. "I'll hold them off!" A battering ram broke through the door, and scores of armored warriors came through, dark magic gathering at their fingertips. Azreal ran.

As he burst through the door of the bedroom, he heard flashes of magic bolts, and screams- though none of them sounded like Lyra's. He allowed himself a small, smug, smile. He knelt beside the crib, and, shaking, ripped off his teleportation amulet and strung it around the baby's shoulders. "Ianuae Magicae Thornrose Mansion, West Starfall!"he yelled, and the baby shimmered out of existence, and grabbing his sword off the mantle, he raced out to help Lyra. When he found her, Lyra was being targeted by a huge man with a Darkfire amulet, and Azrial shot a Bolt at him, knocking him over onto another, smaller man, who died from the other one breastplate hitting his head. "I told you to go!" yelled Lyra, skillfully disarming someone, then stabbing her. 

"Yeah, and?" 

"SO GO!" she screamed, then gasped in horrer. She was quickly overcome.

CHAPTER ONE:

In the land of Krynndor, there is a place famed for its witches and wizards, and their swear pigs, which are more like guinea pigs than actual pigs, and cuss like sailors. But that is not this story. This story is about a (Barely) teenage girl in the land of Valcor, which is known for its persecution and burnings of wizards and witches. Her story begins hereforth. It really does. yup, now. Drumroll, please! actually, no, drumrolls are overrated. I mean seriously, what's the point? they're just going on and on and on, while you just want to hear the- (Sounds of people screaming at author to "Shut up and write the story, you-" the rest is bleeped.) Right. Anyway, our story begins in the land of Valcor, where our heroine, 13-year-old Leila Thorne, is currently tending to an infected splinter.  

____________________________________________________________________________________________

"OI!"

"What is it?"

"THAT 'URT, YA-"

"Oh, be quiet, it's just a splinter."

"'TWAS INFECTED, YA-"

"Seriously, you big baby, it was just a splinter."

"BUT IT HURT!"

"If you blubbered this much every time something hurt, you'd never 'ave gotten a job."

"I'M GONNA-"

"Hold still whilst i apply this poultice? Yes, you are." The man she was tending was suitably chastened by her glare, and held still. 

"Alright, John, you're done. Payment, please?" John grinne.

"Like I'm gonna pay a witch gir-" He stopped as a tall, imposing woman strode into the room, with an expression that could've stopped a rampaging owlbear in its tracks. 

"What was that, John? i must of heard wrong."

"I-i was just sayin' that she did sucha' good job i was gonna give her double!"

"Good, because for a second there i thought you said you weren't gonna pay a 'witch girl. But of course a fine, upstanding citizen such as you're self wouldn't even think of such a thing."

"C-c-c-course not, Esmerelda, no, ma-am!" John threw Leila the money, and fairly scurried out the door. Esmerelda turned to her granddaughter. "You need to be careful, Leila. There's some folks who wouldst push you off a cliff in a heartbeat, if it served them."

"I know, and i hate it. It-it's like a cloud that follows me and brings the attention of others to me. And of course my eyes don't help." as she said this, her eyes turned grey with fear and sadness.

they sat in silence for a moment, before Esmerelda gave a hoot of laughter, and warbled in a highly insulting impression of John's voice,"'C-c-c-course not, Esmerelda, No, Ma-am!" 

Leila's eyes swirled to an orange of mirth, and she guffawed, before warbling back, "I-I was just sayin' that she did such a good job i was gonna give her double!'" They both collapsed, laughing until tears came into their eyes.

Suddenly, Esmerela sobered again, though only just. "Leila, can you go to the bakery and get me some bread? We're gonna run out soon." she coughed, loudly.

"Alright."

"Try not to get in trouble."

"'M-kay"

"Promise?"

"'M-kay." 

"Promise?"

"'Promise."

"Hmm."

Leila ran out the door, and began the walk to the bakery. Halfway there, someone tripped her. Leila got up and kept walking.

"Hey, Witchgirl." Jezebel said. Leila kept walking. 

"You deaf now?" She said. Leila kept walking. "I said, are you deaf?"

"No."

"Seems to me that that's all you ever say. I'm sure your mother never said much more" Leila clenched her fists.

"After all, she was a witch, just like you."

Leila clenched her fists tighter, and it was taking all of her self restraint not to hit Jezebel.

"I bet she just can't be bothered to take care of you, and is actually still alive!" Leila almost turned and slapped her, but just kept walking. Luckily, they had reached the baker's shop, and Leila turned in. She bought several loaves of bread, and began the walk back to her house. The walk back was uneventful, despite her paranoia. When she got home, her paranoia increased, for her grandmother was hacking and coughing, like she was sick. But her grandmother denied it.