I learned a lot about Mykal tonight. Nickelback is my new favorite group. He particularly likes S.E.X. and Burn It To the Ground. I have no idea why.
Mykal’s scene: 1,127
NaNo Total: 50,282 Makes me wonder how far I’ll get by the end of the month…Will I actually get a complete FIRST DRAFT? At this point, I’m guessing no, I’ll be drafting into Dec. We’ll see.
Snippet: Oh, it’s so hard to limit this to just a few hundred words. Mykal is so…well. You’ll see.
If Mykal’s eyes didn’t betray him, the scroll bore the Great Seal of rampant lions wreathed in roses.
Roses. He sucked in a deep breath. Even from a dozen paces away, he swore he could smell her on that parchment.
Gana jerked his chin in a command, and a warrior stood and moved to intercept the trader. Hissing, Mykal flung back his taamid, silently flowed behind the unsuspecting warrior, and swung his arm in an arc.
He was as stunned as everyone else when the rav’s head rolled across the sand. Staring down at the vicious claws, he slowly rotated his hand, watching the moonlight flicker across the silver razors. Shaken, he tried to remember what he’d done to make the claws come out. How had only part of the dragon manifested? How did he control it?
Raising his hand high above his head, he turned in a circle, letting the warriors see the evidence of his transformation. He might as well use the opportunity to bring them further under his control, as long as he could successfully mask his own unease. By the awe on his own rav’s face, no one suspected his stomach boiled with fluid as noxious as the Venom Lake.
“Tal,” Asad’s voice shook as badly as his hand offering the scroll.
As though dragon claws on his human hand were perfectly normal, he used his index blade to crack the wax seal. Carefully he unfurled the parchment, his heart pounding. The dragon crouched, wings cocked, ready to burst free and fly hard, fast, toward Shanhasson.
He held the precious scroll to his face and breathed deeply.
Iyeh, her hands had touched here and here, and…there, a hint of salt. The ink had blurred, smearing her name slightly. A tear, how appropriate, how fitting. The dragon within shuddered, curled up its wings, and slept to dream of a sweet, clear lake the likes of which this blasted land had never known, sprinkled with drops of blood.
He knew she was the Rose of Shanhasson, Last Daughter, High Queen of the Green Lands, but more importantly, she was the White Dragon to break Agni’s fiery punishment.
Or loose Yama’s Shadow on all the world.