To find home

There is no need to tell me – I’m lazybones and from a distance it stinks of laziness from me. Yes, you know what I mean. I did not finish drawing and I have no idea when it is going to be end. I trust it will be place in the next week.

Limi-ted edition

Through the whole week I thought about what this post should look like. How to introduce Limena, to show her like I see her. This is not an easy task, at last she is in my life for five years and recently even more. So how can I explain her magnificence without uncovering the plot of the story?

Since the moment I created her I treated her as distinct person. Not as a character, but as a representative of my personality in a game. I just built her but when she came out to the area of the game, the quality of how she appeared, how her personality became real. I felt it, when I controlled her, when I fought with her, when I learnt new skills. She was talking to me and I answered her. We represented unity while we were two separate women, who live in completely different worlds.

It sounds like I am possessed. Maybe I am – possessed by Limena (the Imagination tell me it is good idea for the next novel).

Later, playing other games, I tried to precisely recreate her and she came into the new body, being the same as always: brave, courageous, majestic, the only one of her kind.

New chapter of the  being

When I started to write, I did not have to create a new character. She existed already. I gave her a story, which influenced upon another quality of Limena. I put her in the new world, which she did not know yet, but she considered as own, she found her place in it. She got new life, which will be her final one. I am deciding her short period of her history, but what would be later, she will inquire into it.

A difficult decision

Now, I am wondering if this story that I had decided to write, would end my acquaintance with Limena. Yes, it is me who decides where she appears, but she does not match with every place. Especially after the greatest journey, that she would survive. She would meet new friends, know incredible feeling, that accompany normal humans. She would take a decision, which only she could take. And I think that after all of this it will be hard to talk her leaving the place, she call home.

Part II A quiet hope

Elioen

   A big bouquet of flowers had lain next to him on a bench. The flowers were wilting, red plants of roses were not as beautiful as three hours earlier. He looked at them wondering how he had waited for so much time here. It was a fact he had brought a book with him and read it heating up in the warmth of the summer sun. But every now and then he took his eyes off the novel and looked around. Among the strange people, who had decided to spend their Saturday’s afternoon in park, he was looking for familiar silhouette. For three hours he stopped reading to look at the people and then he came back to story and forgot about the whole world over and over again. Only when the sun started to set down slowly, he realized how late it was.

   He had been so happy when he bought the flowers but now they seemed to be disgusting. Not only because they were wilting but because they lay next to him, dying. Once again he looked around the park, he did not know why, then threw the roses to the bin placed next to the bench. For some time, he sat with his eyes closed, savouring the fresh air.

   She had not come. He was surprised he accepted it so normally. This morning he had been sure that if she had not come, his heart would have broken, he would has come back to home and closed himself up in the comfort of his room. But now he listened to birds singing, children laughing. Somewhere nearby, little elves had their little castle and on occasion, he could hear a faint rustle of their tiny wings. He was looking for a sign of sadness, nostalgia, a feeling of loss within himself: he found nothing. As if he had never waited for her, she had never existed. Maybe some kind of a good spirit had hidden every memory about her from him. But he remembered her, anyway – her sweet smile, happy eyes. He remembered a smell of her hair, a touch of her skin, a taste of her lips. He remembered her anger, her happiness, and her sadness. He remembered everything, but nothing made an impression on him anymore. He felt like he had watched some kind of film that had ended and left behind nothing to think about.

   He hid the book inside the bag that he hung on his shoulder and set off towards the metro. In the distance, he saw a strong silhouette of the stone Megoel’s Tower complete with a backdrop of glassing-buildings, which reflected the cloudless sky. He liked this contrast very much. A simple, clear dark shape and sleek, barely visible lines of the glass.

   He knew this holiday would pass so fast and soon he will go there to study for the second year. He will meet his friends, laugh with them and sneak out from the Island at night and then they would have to explain why in front of the professors if they were caught. But in this year everything will be a little bit different.

   He went underground and waited for a metro. He feasted his eyes on the hypnotic weaving water railway. Yes, it will be different. At first: there will be no her. That was her last year, and she had left for the holidays as she had gone on an internship. However, today she should have come back and this is how it had ended. For him that was no loss, for his friends it will be a gigantic change. Especially seeing as he did not think that he would tell them anything. After some time they will be asking him: why, when, what happened? That was the problem: nothing happened. Literally. She did not come, there will be no other chance for her. And the boys should respect that.

   The water weaved and soon the metro sailed into the station at breakneck speed. An enchantment shielded the passengers from splashes. Elioen thought what would be happen if there was no magic. Everything around  would be wet. Or there would be no metro at all. So how people would travel inside the city? Horses?

   He stepped onto the train.

The second: Netheid. All the time he was worried about her. In some way she had survived her education so far but attending to Academy of Magic Strengths was something different. There was be no maths, biology, nor languages. There was a fight with yourself, many exertion and pain; people who were thinking that  they were the best and would sneer at others.

   She did not even match there! She was tiny, and delicate, and she would come to the most demanding school of magic on the Earth. As her older brother, he had advised her against doing this, but she had insisted.  ‘Where you are, I am too, Gerald’, she was saying with faint smile and applied this bloody application for admission. He had honest hope she would not get in. Not because he had no faith in her – his little sis had a big magic talent – but he was afraid after one week she would have problems with her psyche. Teenage magical beings could find everyone’s weak point, drive the greatest tough guy cry. Elioen knew them, he had gone through it and he was trying not to imagine how Netheid would go through. At first they will have targeted her hair, next her fringe, which covered up her eyes and then they would slowly kill her sense of value of her own. Without any friends, she would not manage and her only one friend was he, her brother. It would be not possible to be next to her all the time.

   Soon he will find out if she got in. What he knew was that the first letters would come, in the middle of July to humans. They humans start the school year a month earlier to find the Energy in themselves and expand their magical skills that other magical beings was born with. A whole two weeks for learn something what others have known since birth!

   Now, at the end of July came the answers to applications. One hundred and twenty magical beings will be happy because of admission to AMS. One hundred and twenty magical beings will be stand on the Square of Agreement, waiting for Allocation. One hundred and twenty magical beings will be living on the Island, under the highest tower in the whole of Poland.

   He got off at the end station in Wesoła and the rest of way he went on foot. Their house was placed on a secluded estate, hidden amongst trees. At least they lived in quiet and at peace, what was best for their mother’s life. He liked this neighborhood. Forests, nature, the end of the city, but within Warsaw anyway. For the three of them there was nothing that was too far from anything else.

   He stopped in a salon. After all Netheid will be asking how the meeting was. His little sis accustomed to her. He hoped that the news he had, would not break her heart.

   He hear a roar so loud that it left a ringing in his ears. After a while, barefoot Netheid ran down the stairs. In her hand she clutched a violin, in the other one, a bow. She squealed with happiness when she saw him. He was still wondering by what miracle she could see anything  from under her long fringe.

   ‘Gerald! Come on!’, she shouted and ran outside without her shoes. He came out behind her and they looked at the sky.

   Right above their head flew the Greatest Antakalnian Dragon.

Part I The day in which the dream may come true

Leonard

A heavy material, that was blocking out the glassing-wall, was parted and the rays of the light came into the room, brutally forced the boy out of his dream state. Leonard moaned trying to cover his eyes from sun lights. In the night he could not fall asleep. He tossed and turned, changed positions, threw the quilt out but nothing brought him a dream. His thoughts had circulated around the letter, which could change his life. At last, he grabbed the book that spoke of the Race War, hoping if he got bored he would go to sleep. It happened in the early morning. He remembered the rising sun showing through thick curtains. A moment later he collapsed into the land of dreams.

‘Do you have to…?’, he asked his roommate and the best friend since their youngest years as well. He slipped his head under the quilt. The book, he had slept with, slid down on the floor.

‘Normally, I would let you sleep further but not today’, Arthur ripped the quilt off his friend. His eyes accidentally came to rest on the book. “Did you read it again? It is boring as tripe with oil.’

‘That is the reason I decided to read it. I wanted to go to sleep. What time is it?’

‘ You have fifteen minutes to make an order with yourself. Well , it is less now.’

Leonard jumped out of his bed. He thought he had set the alarm and even if he did not he was certain he had asked Miss Lucy to wake him. Why did not she do it?! Oh, Arthur! Undoubtedly, he said to Miss Lucy he would awake Leonard and wanting to spare him stress, he did it over two hours after the fixed time. He wanted good but it came out to worse.

Leonard took a quick shower, pulled on his trousers and cleaned his teeth. With still wet hair he came back to the room. Five minutes! He shoved the book on its place and make an order on a desk. While he was making the bed, he unintentionally pushed a lamp off. It rolled and bounced off the glassing-wall. Precious seconds passed whilst he tried to find its Place. During cleaning the clothes from the previous day, the bells rang at midday. He froze. He felt his empty stomach do a somersault and his heart stood in the throat. In his head appeared pessimistic thoughts. What if will it turn out he does not match? What if he did not have enough Energy within himself? What if did not they take him into consideration and the letter will never come?

Letter… A dozen or so lines of little signs on a paper, a few sentences on a sheet. His greatest dream and the only one hope of future on the scrap of parchment. He was so sure he will get into this school, that he hadn’t applied to any others. What was he thinking of?! He should have protected his future! He knew this, but he still hadn’t done it. He just sat down at the desk and wrote an application for admission. His hand sweated, excited as heart beat faster. He wanted to resign but then Arthur proposed to send letters together. ‘Let’s do it, you will feel safer.’ Leonard knew his friend did not care about getting into this school. He wanted to become a writer and his dream had chances of coming true – he had won a few competitions in school and two of them were nationwide. What kind of a chance had Leonard got? Every year, only fifty of the recruited human students will geta place, one hundred in the entire country. However, not everyone can uncover the Energy in themselves and they are removed. The next year they are waiting to start study somewhere else in the normal high school or technical college.

He did not know how many times he stood still. He did not hear steps on corridor until Arthur shook him and gave him a shirt. Leonard managed to wear it, when knocking started to reverberate around the room, and Miss Lucy entered. She was an American. She had arrived to Poland, where, as she claimed, she had found the most tolerant place on the Earth. At her sight, Leonard sighed with relief mixed with sensation of bitterness, but soon his heart beat harder when he saw a slander being passing through the doors.

‘My God, Leonard’, whispered Miss Lucy, coming up to him. ‘Your hair, your shirt!’

Damn! Not only he forgot to dry his hair but was also wearing the wrong buttoned up shirt. In front of him stood a representative of primeval race and he looked unpresentable. He did not know if he should lower his eyes or look at the Emissary. Any other opportunity to see him could never happen again. It is said that it was an extraordinary lucky to meet this kind of creature.

The Emissary was taller and, on top of that, skinnier than any human. When he was coming into the room he had to bend down so as not to hit the door frame. His moves were laborious as if a rush could damage his joints. His dark hair fell down on black suit. Despite rare appearances, it was the eyes caught the biggest attention. Upon this sight, Leonard stepped backward involuntarily. They were glass.

He had once read that just a few representatives of the Emissaries lived nowadays. Their race was so old and mysterious that no one remembered its name. Their title was gained by the function of messenger, which they fulfilled in present-days. The living individuals did not share their history and waited for quiet and peaceful death, thus for extinction of his species. Many scientists had approached in attempts to spread essential facts concerning Emissaries, but none of the publications exceeded fifty pages and every of them told about the same things.

In Emissary’s hand, clutched with long fingers, appeared an envelope. The handwriting on it was written in careful calligraphy. Leonard’s heart was a step from exploding with excitement. His dream should come true right now. That hand should make its way toward him. The envelope should find itself in his hands, his fingers should touch this delicate surface of the envelope. Just a few seconds remained…

Time stopped. Leonard felt his blood swim out of his face, his muscles resigned. Printed on the envelope he did not see his name. Hand did not go to his side but to his friend. It was Arthur, who got into Academy of Magic Strengths, not he. In this moment the Emissary for the first time looked at Leonard. This was the first time that their stares had crossed. The first time the boy had felt that something had broken within the depths of his mind. Some kind of impulse penetrated his brain, spread throughout it, reached the most distant nook and disappeared as fast as it had showed. It left emptiness, bitterness and… something new, but Leonard felt he had it for a long time.

He sat down on bed. He did not care what happened around him. Miss Lucy with the Emissary went out. Arthur was saying something, but Leonard did not listen to him. Closed letter lay on the desk. Silence. It would be better if he applied to high school, but what was waiting for him now was a fruitless year and nights spent alone in the room number 142 in Children’s Home number 4 in Warsaw.

About the girl who was found in another world

Yesterday I was shot by the Imagination. Her expectations were  beyond my capabilities. After all day long of working I have done nothing. She didn’t even look at me, just BOOM! – and I am dead.

That was the day before, but now I am back among the living again.

I was wondering what I should write today. I have so much information to relay and I cannot choose anything from that mess in my head. Heroes, weapons, suits, maps, animals – so many possibilities! However I decided to start from the beginning. The main base, on which the story is rested on is the person of Limena, but I want to write about her some other time. I want to put here an image of her.

Fantasy about fantasy

Another character that appears in the story is Dominica. Her personality is kind of important – it just so happens that she is a narrator. I could leave her out and create an omniscient narrator and in later events replace her with some other person. Why did not I do it? Because that is important to me to show the world through somebody’s eyes, who would be a stranger, who would get to know new rules, that do not exist on the Earth. I want the character to be close to the reader, be like him – normal.

Exactly. As far as normality is concerned. How many times did I come into bookshop, take to hand a book and put it down just because on the cover was written: “Lucy is 16 and she is a normal girl until blah, blah, blah”. If she is abnormal, she can’t be normal! I do not want Dominica to be created on patter like this. She should be the most normal person in the world. The teenager, who comes into new stage of her life, rids of her step-mother and goes to another city to study. The teenager, who has problems to open to others. The teenager, who loves the alternate worlds from books, from games, a fantasy worlds (oops, I just did describe myself). And suddenly that normal person gets to a strange world, where she has to learn to live from basics. Moreover, there is someone who has plans connected to her.

The girl had a problem. Of course, she wanted to jump into some fantasy world, just to be as far away from Poland, step-mother and life-problems as possible, but when she did find herself in there… Well, she was not ready. If anybody had told her what could happen maybe she would have learnt to handle some weapon and prepare, but she never had that opportunity. In no way could she identify with this new world. She wanted to jump back into her old life, to problems she once had. In addition without her permission and knowledge she was joined to the team with the difficult mission to do. She did not care and thought that it did not concern her. I ask myself: what or who would convince her to change her mind and identify with Limena’s world? What kind of incident could influence her and in what kind of way?

As I mentioned, the girl liked the world of games. Into her life I have weaved an event from my own life – I allowed her to create a virtual character of Limena and Sashila.

Black goes with her

Just like Limena, Dominica was created within a game as well, but I use only her appearance and class. As a guardian swordsman, she used a sword with a shield… Wait, wait! Back! After all, she was a normal person from the 21^st century, she could not fight!

Her look… I had to change her amaranth hair to an ordinary colour. She had lived in the real world, where people do not have naturally pink hair. I decided she would have long dark one which would like to wear undone. But developments would make it so she will wear them in two pony tails (just like in the  illustration in the header).

New world, new name

A Polish name in another world would match like coffee with salt, but it depends on taste. When Dominica introduced herself, she changed her name to Sashila and with this name she started in the strange world.

(I do not know now but in the middle of the story it may turn up that in an odd language ‘Sashila’ means something like ‘Fearless’ or ‘Gallant’ or ‘The Girl with Seven Legs’. My Imagination has weird ideas.)

Prologue

‘…In these tough days, at the time of war and anxiety, it is important to remember that our races are not enemies. We have beautiful common history, which includes both great and tragic times. In the battles, wars, and clashes the blood of every race has been poured. Our lives have tangled together for over thousands of years. We have lived through bad and good moments, we cannot forget the past now! Yes, this is true that humans are the youngest race, unaffected by the strength of the Power, but it does not mean we can condemn them! Our ancestors had watched the first steps that was made by humans. From the forest they observed the Roman Empire, the building of the Great Wall. Imperceptible they agreed with the human culture.  During the Dark Ages they stood in silence when our brothers and sisters died, but at least they have found the shelter. They came slowly out of the shadow, showed their strength and friendship to youngest companions. With you, my dear Poles and  Lithuanians, they developed and commanded language. And now I am asking myself: what would be if Wladyslaw Jagiello did not bring us on the Polish land? Who would we be if you did not help us? Probably, we would hide in shrinking forests. We could not find the place in this constantly expanded society of humans. There would not be solutions, which was brought in by us to save the Earth from disaster. We would be watching as the world is dying and with it every single being, the magician or not. And if we would fight at last, it would be too late. Yes, with common strength, but under our command, we are making the life better, we recede from the destruction. What would be the Power Poland-Lithuanian, if there would not be us? So many times we could depend on ourselves, so many times we fought shoulder to shoulder against our enemies and we chased them away from our lands! So many times our blood mixed together! We were the first who blurred the racial boundaries, which did not happen in other countries! Together we streamlined so many fields of our lives! In agreement we came into the 20^th century! So why this small group, Who Know the Secret of the Power, started the war on European scale?! Once again I am asking you, rebels, to remind you: the human race is not the enemy of magical beings! We live together in symbiosis – we would not survive without humans, they would not without us. Put your weapons away, voluntarily surrender to the justice! I am addressing to you, me, Meani GaLen IV, as a representative of being Who Know the Secrets of the Power: we do not want to fight, we want peace, we want to live! Together!’

When the witch with short blond hair came down from the podium, the noise of shouted reporters and sounds of taking photos rang out. Someone shouted through this noise. In the air hung the question:

‘What about the Friends? What do you think about the Friends?’

Silence filled the room. The witch had never answered any questions from reporters but this very first time she stopped and turned to the asking person. This was a young man, who did not stand out from the crowd, but he did the impossible.

‘Nothing can excuse breaking rules’, she said, looking straight into his eyes. ‘Of course, they are chasing criminals but they are them too. We cannot expect that they will change their behaviour in the times of peace. How many of us will live next to murderers? Would we sleep peaceful if we know that the neighbour has blood on his hands? Every single day we would be afraid if our children would come safely from school. The government cannot allow this!’

The witch squinted her eyes and smiled. A flash immortalized this moment.

‘Every single member of this group will be arrested and sentenced to prison without judgment. And now excuse me, I have to win the war.’

On Egypt stylizing

I am not too wild about the beginning. I had approached the prologue with the story about Limena several times and nothing matched. There was moments in which I deleted a couple of pages as I was feeling mad, so I delayed writing. I had the whole story right before my eyes, I knew, what would happen, I knew characters, most important events, but I hadn’t grasped the beginning. This problem was eating me up inside, while the Imagination got impatient. She wanted me to go further, and as fast as possible. At night, she tormented me by invading my thoughts, every now and then starting new sentences, new dialogues and descriptions. She would insist on one thread, which she wanted to include in the text.

But then coincidence helped me.  Now, I do not remember why but I reached for the book about Cleopatra. I found an excerpt quoting inscription written at the tomb of Ta-Imhotep, which inspired me extraordinarily.

Oh, all of you judgers and scholars, all of you noble and eminent, every people, who ever come into this tomb, come closer and listen to history of my life!*

Yes! I found it! A prophecy! I decided to begin with a prophecy. Not with the meeting with one of characters, not with boring description, nor a dialogue, which would be out of context. A prophecy! A subtle introduction to another world, which rules under different rules and by the way nothing would be said (I had even said more on this blog). Additionally I hit on an idea to create the culture of Chyllen founding on the Ancient Egypt. The Imagination seemed to be satisfied. For now. At least she hadn’t disturbed me that one time.

Coming back to my prophecy – every now and then I delved into the text from the tomb of Ta-imhotp and in turn composed words, which went well within my novel. In my head appeared an image of a mystery person who comes out of a forest. She carried a two-handed sword on her back. Her face was hidden under the mask of the darkness, but you could see a glint in her eyes. I wanted to write about that person. I forced burden on her, which only  she could take. The main thread will be set around this weight.

This is what I wrote:

All of you noble and wise, sorcerers and warriors, representatives of all of races that tread on the native ground of my own. All of you, who remember the greatness and majesty of the State with the Dragon Tower, come closer and listen, because the time came, when it is dangerous to stride with risen head.After nineteen years will come back to avenge legacy of father. The child unwanted, the child ennoble. Born in the third day of month Thatos, in thee thirtieth year of the reign of the king of Chyllen, the heir of Ne-Ferin house, the priest of KirIn, Lahols.The child exiled, bred in KirIn’s care will come back and his name will be…

*Aleksander Krawczuk, Cleopatra, in translation made by me.

The beginnings are always hard…

Too long I delayed writing an introduction…
Too long I thought how the beginning should look…
Too long I pretended that I think at all… 
Suddenly I find that I wouldn’t write an introduction, instead I’ll start to do my stuff. Yeah… I may just as well begin at the end. 
After countless days and argument with my own mind, I said: ‘No! A preface must be there! (even just for a peace of my own).

What is going on here actually? 
Every night, when I’m going to sleep, the Imagination comes to me, places me under the wall of my mind, aims with a rifle and commands me to think. This is a difficult matter, especially when I want to sleep. But I think… In my head are created characters, situations, dialogues; there are drawn scenes from a very different word, that are formed too. Hundreds, thousands, millions (!) ideas per second attack my poor mind. Really – it is worse than nuclear bomb. The worst is there is no place for this all in my head, yet concepts are still rolling in.
What does the Imagination do? She commands me to write, and write, and write – transfer all my thoughts into words. In this way, I have created several projects. The most important was a story about Limena, who is… my character in MMORPG. Why is she so unique? Because she has purple hair. Yes, the colour of her hair is sort of key in this story. 
But… For my dear Imagination, it was not enough. She wanted more and more. I felt a barrel that was put against my temple, I heard a whisper: “Publish a novel!”. 
I’m proceeding to my job. Step by step. First of all: advertisement. What can be more suitable than the Internet, than a blog? Under the pressure of Imagination I called it… well… Under the Pressure of Imagination. I made a “beautiful” layout and… (I lost the thread).

A plan may come in handy 
Generally the idea of this blog is simple – to interest a reader with a story of purple-hair Limena. I want to post here ideas connected with the plot, inspirations, maybe even short excerpts from text and drawing. The Imagination gave me a hint - something else; in the meantime I will be writing here another story to show my writing style. I hope that in this time me and my torturer will become friends.

Dragons on the background with tower blocks I saw… 
As far as the concept of writing straight away is concerned let me show you different Poland of the 21st century. Actually I was a little bit surprised that the place of the plot is my family country and that the time is in the present but – as you’ll see for yourself – I have changed the history. 
I want to introduce you three young heroes connected with nothing: 
Isyan Lineas IX Nemesember is an elf. In his veins flow noble blood and this is the reason, that he can do everything that he wants to do. 
Netheid Fave is a witch. She is secretive, her only one friend is her brother Elioen Gerald. 
Leonard Mystycki does not know who he is. His ambition is get to know the world of the magic. 
How will their lives intertwine, you shall see for yourself only through reading this blog.

And that was supposed to be a short preface…