[YANS] (NaNoWriMo Day 27)

The only thing she knows is true anymore is that the dragon needs to die.

In which the Writer rambles incoherently. Ish.

Daily Wordcount: 1,655
Total Wordcount: 43,273 (includes Title, Chapter Headers, etc.)

NOTE: This is a MuseFic in which the Writer, the Muse, and her fictives work to create the rough draft of a story (or just worldbuild). There will be spoilers for the story being drafted, which will most likely contain plot holes, retcons, and other inconsistencies.

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THINGS. FOR REASONS.

The Writer flailed about madly making notes. She had a migraine and was a million words behind and needed to get ideas out of her head onto paper.

They were very messy ideas.

But it was NaNoWriMo, so they still counted.

~*~*~*~*~

The white dragon shows up in both futures. If the blue one is the actual dragon for the city by the sea then who is the white one? And why isn’t the red one in both visions?

~*~*~*~*~

The fire has destroyed more than she can mend with magic alone and she has to wait for the townsfolk to return to start rebuilding.

~*~*~*~*~

My town isn’t big enough for two dragons.

Are you kicking me out?

Yes.

~*~*~*~*~

If there’s a happy ending here, she hasn’t found it yet, but it’s not an unhappy ending either and she can live with that.

The town is the never the same again. Not better, nor worse, but not the same.

She can’t live her life bound to the ghosts of the past, so she leaves and doesn’t look back.

There are gravestones down on the old floodplains and every year fresh flowers pile up, brought in from all the corners of the earth.

~*~*~*~*~

The pools are too far away to hear her, but the river is not.

~*~*~*~*~

The two dragons arrive to the still smoldering ruins.

~*~*~*~*~

I can’t change back, I’ve tried, but there’s too much of me.

That part takes a little practice.

~*~*~*~*~

There was a very very long pause as the Muse looked over the incoherent notes. For a moment she considered tossing all of them in the fire, but there was some small salvageable plot bunny fodder in the madness.

Meanwhile the Writer was covering her head with a blanket and avoiding the Evil Light of Evil and all things that required more than two neurons.

And lo, they called it day.

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Martha Bechtel

My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!

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