Young Writers Society

You find yourself in a warm, well-lit room. Torches flicker merrily on the walls and the air is filled with the scent of simmering stew wafting from some room above. It's all horribly wrong.

You feel as though you are intruding somewhere you were never meant to be. Such an assumption would be correct, which you'll soon come to find. This is not your home, nor your world. It's not even your plane of existence.

How did you get here, you may wonder. Perhaps it had something to do with that beautifully illuminated book you found in the darkest corner of the library...

103 words

Players:

@HarryHardy
@ShadowVyper
@sakeofvanity05

Acantha had just caught sight of a plump, writhing critter— a tiger centipede— burying itself into the grainy dunes of endless tuscan-sun yellow. Unsheathing her grandfather's farming scythe, she plowed into flimsy sand, the squirm of the bug nearby delighting her ears. But before she could scoop it out, a small pit crumbled away, with flakes of gravel caving in. Something large was at hand.

She fell back, scooching back from the dented pocket of earth, its depression spilling from brittle debris.

"What do we have here?" she said, slow and smiling.

Acantha dug her hands into the tumbling clay until she found solidity. Stone. Sweeping away the rustic rubble of chiseled sand, her speckled hands and sharp nails tore through the grime, as more and more rock was unearthed.

It took her the best of the morning, and into the afternoon.

With a blistering sun beating down at her back, she finally felt the structure give in. First, it was a dip - the crunch of her toes sensing it - before the whole of the roof collapsed at once. The drop took her along down the ride.

From her crouched position, a steady pain thrummed along the soles of my feet, its ache almost entirely forgotten at the reveal of ancient desert ruins. It was worth all the digging, she thought to herself.

Rising from the ground, she took in the decaying, mossy walls and arched framework, the broken pillars once like hefty trunks— though just as a forest is cut down, what's left behind is nothing more than useless stumps. Eroded by wind and sand, the memory of a thriving building slips through the cracks.

"This place…" she muttered to herself, seeing the loose, indecipherable pieces of parchment paper with ink too faded to make out. "It was a library…"

The room was scattered with old scrolls and books and sunken shelves.

But one book in particular still withstood the test of time.

Acantha neared it, wide-eyed and mouth-dried. Its cover was glowing: a dim, golden gleam, impossible to mistake. Brushing the dust off of it, she read the printed letters: The Lost Soul of Nyr'il.

And with that, a chilling gust of motion stirred to life — its sudden, explosive air distracting Acantha from the pull of a nameless force, sucking her in.

~

A discomposing moment of haziness came and went, like the flutter of silk curtains, undraped in an exotic reveal of the cottage-like scenery: an unexplainable, yet fitting kindliness to the place. Its aroma was the stuff of sleep— tender and restful.

Acantha felt ill-suited for such a motherly space. A thought she'd tucked safely away abruptly arose— at her displeasure— with a vitality she'd forgotten. The absence of a certain… someone… served as a piteous reminder of the past, weighing itself down onto her — like a fiend of her own mental creation, its uncaring nature claiming the stretch of halls along her mind. What little room she had left to spare up inside that head of hers, she couldn't tell.

Now it all annoyed her. The quilt-like aroma, the nostalgia of a time in carefree unknowingness, the memory of a look only she could know: soft, wrinkled eyes— farmerlike and fatherlike— tickled in brief-seeming bliss.

Acantha then wondered to herself — child-like, despite the lasting, littered scores and scars across her sullied skin, as if wearing badges of womanhood — if her parental figure was watching over like a secret guardian belonging to the clouds; she busied herself with such thoughts, appearing almost mad with her stock-still inanimation.

591 words

That was it!

Rana popped upright on her bed so suddenly it sent a book -- that had been perched precariously by the edge -- toppling off the side. She lurched forward to try to catch it and sent three more off the edge instead.

Oh, well.

She'd worry about that later.

For now she had figured out missing piece for her girl's school.

First, she'd find a man who wanted to help her with this righteous quest, and then he'd purchase a bar. Then he would work in the front as a barkeeper and maintain the facade as if he was a humble entrepreneur -- meanwhile she would work out of the back recruiting girls, educating them, and then constructing an elaborate network of information sharing and gathering to plug them into.

It was brilliant.

Brilliant!

The only problem had been trying to figure out how to make both businesses work simultaneously. The girls could know about the bar, obviously. But they couldn't have anyone figuring out what it was that they did out of the back. Not if they didn't want people to march in and shut them down right quick and in a hurry. So, it had to be disguised.

And to do that--

Rana excitedly shoved her feet into their shoes and rushed from her room, down the flight of stairs, across the hall, and into the giant library that the king allowed her to frequent. There were various couriers about and she hastily murmured to each as she passed. Excited to look at the infrastructure book she'd realized she needed -- but not so excited to have lost her manners.

"Gregi!" She planted her hand on his back as she stepped by. "How's the wife? Did that salve help her rash?"

"Rana, darling! Always a pleasure." He smiled and bowed to her. "Yes, yes, she's doing much better. Thank you for the recommendation!"

"Of course!" She flashed him a quick smile and kept walking. "Thenzden! Did you ever decide what to price your loaves?"

"AHH MY SAVIOR HERSELF!" He spun around and wrapped her in a tight hug, then turned her loose. "You were quite right, as usual. Up the price of the flour, lower the price of the loaves. Business has been booming."

"You love to see it." Rana rushed up behind a tall woman and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. "Mari -- how are the lessons going?"

"I couldn't decide which." Mari turned towards her. "So I remembered what you said, and decided that I -- too -- want it all. So I'm taking language lessons and piano and somehow convinced my husband to pay for them both."

"Ayeeee, werk, gurl." Rana winked at her then turned towards the quieter part of the library. The ledgers of floor plans and blueprints that no one cared to show the light of day.

The answers to her problems.

She pulled one from the shelf and leafed through it then turned back towards the door and took a deep breath, trying to think of what her alibi would be should any of the people she'd interacted with -- or any of the many more who she hadn't spoken to -- asked her about her odd choice as she was leaving. She couldn't very well admit her half-baked plans if she wanted the girl's school to take off.

Hmmm.... something about helping someone with expanding their business... or something... she didn't know. Things usually just came to her. In the moment. She'd just wing it if --

The entirety of her attention snapped towards a glint of color in the dark corner of the library. A gold-rimmed book. That was...

She didn't know what it was.

She'd never seen it before.

But, now that she had...

It wasn't like there was any harm in taking a few more seconds to get back to her room to get to planning. For all she knew, this was the gods' way of giving her another hint. Of helping her find an even more perfect book than she knew existed to figure out the correct architecture for her business proposition.

Or, at the very least, it looked cool.

And that warranted a look-see.

Rana propped her book in the crook of her arm and then wandered towards the glittery one in the corner, intrigued. She reached out and traced her fingertips against the hefty cover.

She couldn't help herself.

Rana pulled this book off the shelf as well.

Father always yelled at her for being so easily distractable. For refusing to finish one job before starting another. But it's not like she needed to set down the first book to be able to open the --

* P O O F *

Rana yelped -- loud and dramatic -- as she suddenly found herself standing in a very different library from the one that she'd left. This one was smaller -- it seemed snug -- and smelled of... stew?

It would almost have been nice.

Almost.

Except for the fact that she'd been kidnapped.

She yelped again for good measure then looked around and asked with a shaky voice, "H... hello?"

Susan was bored. Very bored. Again. This was starting to get horribly repetitive now. After exploring the little bubble of land set aside for them for over an year now, Susan was no longer finding it particularly interesting now. That was a crazy thought. Two years ago she never would've imagined that the land of the dead, a place she hadn't even believed the existence of, was going to be on the list of places she's seen enough times to get used to. Granted, it wasn't the full land of the dead.

The three of them had been assigned one of the many small castles scattered around in a plot of land named the Dalsaf Sea. That was apparently an acronym for "Deaths Affecting Large Scale Anomalies From Secondary Effect Anachronisms". The explanation for what exactly that name meant was something she hadn't managed to work up the courage to ask. The Dalsaf Sea was barely a fraction of the land that made up the whole of the underworld and they'd been told not to wander out without supervision which wasn't great because Susan could never work up the courage to actually call the people that could supervise her. Both of them seemed so ridiculously busy and even though they were always incredibly nice Susan couldn't help but think they'd think horribly of her if she summoned them away from their very important duties just because she couldn't stay in one place for three hours.

Today though, she had to find some way to muster up her courage or she was going to lose her mind. She looked around the living room she was currently sitting down trying to see if the very comfortable but simultaneously scary looking black sofa could give her an idea. Maybe the glass table, with the book...

Susan's train of thought stopped in its tracks. Maybe there was an option after all. There was a place she distinctly remembered as being one of the couple of places she was free to roam without constant supervision. She'd only need someone to escort her there and back. The Library. She didn't know what a library in the land of the dead would look like or if it would even have books she could actually read, but libraries were a place she was no stranger to, and most importantly it was a place she hadn't been to yet. If she could muster up enough courage to get someone to escort here there...she could easily find something to distract her for the next couple of hours.

She spent the next fifteen minutes circling around the button set into the wall next to the entrance to the castle they'd been given. She'd stared at the patterns of a seven headed creature etched into the black metallic door for so long she was starting to think the creature was standing in front of here. This was getting ridiculous. After the clock in the hall chimed, indicating the passing of a quarter hour, she decided enough was enough and before her brain could get other ideas her her hand was pressing the button.

Milliseconds later, there was a bright flash of pink lightning and one of the two responsible for rescuing her from the literal void was standing in front of her. Susan nearly screamed mentally. The universe had to be somehow conspiring against here. Of the two, it just had to be the one she had the most trouble forming coherent thoughts in front of.

"Prin..prin...cessss," stammered Susan, bowing to hide cheeks that were currently redder than here hair.

"Oh come on Susan, how many times have I told you to dispense of all those silly formalities and just call me Jen or at the very least Jennifer?" said the girl with a small chuckle.

Susan didn't dare raise her head and she kept her eyes firmly on her sandals. "About 216, Princess."

"That is...surprisingly accurate, " said Jennifer, "I can't believe you actually kept track."

"I...uhh...have a good...good memory, " said Susan.

"And a very interesting set of sandals apparently, cause it appears you can't take your eyes off them, " said Jennifer.

"I'm so...sorry," stammered Susan, slowly raising her head to meet the other girls eyes as she felt her cheeks heat up even more.

"Just joking, Susie," said Jen, with a wink. Susan let out a squeak at the nickname.

"Are you okay?" said Jennifer, taking a step closer. Susan nodded vigorously as she resisted the urge to run away screaming to her room. "So, what did you want?"

"A ki...I mean, I uhh, wanted to library the books to find a visit..." she managed.

Jennifer gave here a confused look.

"I wantedtovisitthelibrarytofindbooks," managed Susan on the second try.

"Didn't quite catch that either Susan?" said Jennifer, "could you repeat that a bit slower?"

"I wanted to visit the library to look at some books," managed Susan.

"Ahh, third time's' the charm, " said Jennifer, " well, come along then, I'll take you to the library, it's actually quite close to the Dalsaf Sea."

Jennifer made her way out through the door. Susan nodded vigorously and set foot outside the door only to lose her footing on the stairs and slip. Jennifer caught her in a swift motion and deposited her safely on solid ground. Susan was hyperventilating so hard it was a miracle she didn't faint. Her skin burned at the place where Jennifer had touched her, which was crazy considering the fact that she was not supposed to feel anything being currently dead. She stammered a thank you and began to walk before she did in fact faint.

A few minutes of walking later, she was soon at the large gate that led outside the Dalsaf sea and into a now familiar circular room, surrounded by tunnels on all sides. There was a good thirty passageways leading out from that room and Susan had only ever gone in three before. On this occasion Jennifer led her down one that she hadn't gone through before, and a short walk later, they were coming up in front of a set of massive black gates, almost identical to the ones at the entrance to the Dalsaf sea. The only difference was the engraving. Instead of a seven headed creature, there was what could only be described as a book monster of some sort devouring a skeleton. She didn't want to guess at what that image was hinting.

Once Jennifer gotten them through the gate, Susan found herself looking at what had to be the largest library she'd ever seen.

"Welcome to the Library of the Damned, run exclusively by formerly deceased librarians, of course only the ones that were not sentenced to eternal punishment. This has one of the largest collections of books in the universe actually. A few billion during the last count and that was a three thousand years ago...cause apparently we just can't stop postponing that date. Anyway, this features a copy of pretty much every book ever written, every deceased author adds to it every time they die and reminisce about their stories...its a very fancy complicated explanation, but, the short way to put it is, if its written by an author that's deceased as of the year uhh...in the planet you come from, it should be 2020 I think, its gonna be in this thing," said Jennifer. "Sorry for the long explanation, went into tour guide mode there for a second. Well, do you want me to stay, or I can come escort you back in a couple of hours?"

"Co..ome back, " Susan said, even though her brain was desperately yelling at her to say 'Stay'.

"Alrighty, see you in a couple of hours," said Jennifer, turning and vanishing in a flash of pink light.

Susan did her best to squash the rebellious thoughts in her brain yelling at her how stupid that decision was and walked up to the library doors. There was surprisingly no one guarding them. Apparently no one in the land of the dead ever broke into the library. Shrugging that thought aside, she made here way inside and her jaw dropped as she took in the sight. It was just books upon books as far as she could make out. The shelves in the library had to be a good thirty feet tall, which made her wonder how anyone was supposed to reach any of the books at the top. At first glance, she couldn't spot anyone nearby, in fact, the area was surprisingly barren besides the many, many shelves. There was a dark blue carpet on the floor and the place was lit up by torches strategically placed on the walls. Besides the torches however, there was nothing to decorate the walls, not even a random painting of a famous author.

She wandered into the shelves in search of something to look at. Maybe she could figure out how this place was organized or more than likely she was just going to wander around for two hours in search of a book and get thoroughly lost by the time Jennifer get back and end up reading nothing. That didn't sound like a particularly bad idea either so she continued her walk, glancing at the titles that she could make out at her height.

A few minutes of wandering later, something caught her eye, it wasn't necessarily the title, that sounded like just an average fantasy novel, it was the book itself. While most of the books down there were all in pretty much mint condition, this one looked especially shiny, probably due to the fact that it was in fact giving off a soft golden glow...or maybe that was just the gold letters in a relatively dark library. She reached out to pick it up, finding that it was just about barely within reach. She was able to just about get on her toes and inch the book out of its resting place causing it to almost fall down on her face before she managed to catch it just in time.

She read the title again. "The Lost Soul of Ny'ril" It didn't seem to be anything too special, it was just a very large and ridiculously heavy tome. She decided she may as well give the blurb a look, but as she was trying to turn the ridiculously heavy book in her hands, it tumbled down to the ground and fell open at her feet. Before she could scream or look around to see if anyone had seen here, she felt the last sensation she'd expect to feel while opening a book; the feeling of being transported through a dimension.

Susan found herself in a place that was definitely not the library of the dead. The first thing that struck here was the pure feeling of wrong. Susan didn't consider herself someone that ran on instinct too often, that was Daphne's thing, but it seemed like every fiber of her being was currently trying to tell her the same, very clear message. "You shouldn't be here."

She looked around the room, trying to see if she'd been accidentally sent to another part of the underworld by some accident or a curse on the book. It was just a warm and pretty well lit room. Much brighter than most rooms in the underworld. The torches on the wall were also not the right sort. These seemed more like normal torches rather than the magical ones that burned bright blue in the underworld. There was even the scent of food cooking somewhere, what it was, she couldn't quite place, but that did cement she was no longer in the underworld. The dead didn't eat. She had never experienced the smell of something cooking in the underworld besides...well, that was not an image she needed to think of at the moment.

She decided perhaps making a noise would be a good idea to see if anyone was nearby. She could always go invisible if there as any sort of threat.

Susan cleared her throat and uttered a quick, "Helloo..anyone home?" It came out far too shaky for her liking but in her defence despite all the weirdness she'd experienced over the past two years, being sucked through dimensions from a book of all things was new to her, not to mention this time she was alone.

2061 words

It was almost time. Wrell stood impatiently at the top of the staircase that had brought her up into this world. She had waited six years for this. Six long, lonely years. And now the day was here. She couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto her face. Jordain returned it, understanding that this was important to her, “They will be afraid. You mustn’t get too carried away,” She brushed him off.

Today was the day that another group of Myrrim travelers would join them in this world. Wrell had arrived with the last batch six years ago, a terrified little girl of thirteen. The travelers always arrived on time, in groups of two to four. Jordain was one of the first. He had arrived as a wee boy of seven, and today he led the Myrrim Tor-Lest, a fully-fledged adult. Wrell didn’t know exactly how old he was.

Jordain looked through the window at the sundial sitting in the courtyard. “It’s time.”

Wrell bounced on the balls of her feet, shuffling behind Jordain as he descended the staircase. Axle and Merrimay fell in line after her. Axle nodded his disheveled auburn head at his sister, who glanced up from the pot holding tonights’ dinner. Celia waved him off, signaling that food would be ready in time for the newcomers and not to bother her.

Merrimay rolled their eyes at Wrell’s enthusiasm. They had never agreed with Jordain about how much to involve her in Myrrim Tor-Lest’s business. His argument had always been that the book had brought her here, so clearly she had a part to play. She was endlessly grateful to him for that. Jordain had practically raised her. The travelers that had entered with her six years ago were too far from her age to be any sort of comfort. Peter was 26 now, and even so, he didn’t come by often anymore. As for Lauriel, well, nobody knew what had happened to her. Jordain had offered the young Wrell hope, and a family, and she would never forget that.

He pushed open the door to the basement. They all filled inside, excitement beginning to crackle between them all. Newcomers meant more people trying to fulfill the prophecy, which meant they all had a higher chance of going home. Wrell watched with wide eyes as, in a flash of light, three people appeared. She jumped. I wasn’t expecting it to be so… anticlimactic-

And then it hit her. A wave of magic. It rattled her very bones, sending shivers of power all through her body. The room seemed to rustle with whispers and music in some language that Wrell desperately wanted to understand. And then all was silent. She found herself aching for the feeling of magic to return. So this was what it felt like when Lu’Shyre’s (May her name forever echo in our hearts) soul was taken from Nyr’il. Wrell found herself holding back tears.

She was so preoccupied with this overwhelming feeling that it took her a full thirty seconds to really notice the new arrivals. When she finally did, her curiosity piqued.

The first newcomer was tall, although not as tall as Wrell herself. The woman had hair the color of straw in the heat of summer, warm and earthy. She had the gentle hum of one who knows what they are after and will do what they must to get there. However, it wasn’t in an intimidating way.

The next was striking. She had the air of a predator, with piercing light eyes. Her soul was deep and rich, a beautiful, terrible sound that drew Wrell in. She couldn’t help but admire the strength of it.

The last of them was quite small. She had bright red hair, the same shade as Axle’s, just much more saturated. Wrell couldn’t tell if it was natural or dyed. The color of it made the girl seem even paler, especially with the white nightgown and all. Wrell liked the music of this soul as well. Bright and clear, with undertones of sorrowful sound. A good song.

The woman with the hum yelped, glancing about frantically. “H… Hello?” She asked nervously. The girl with the bright hair joined her with a query, “Helloo...Anyone home?” The striking one remained quiet.

Jordain stepped forward, a kind smile appearing on his face. Wrell tilted her head amusedly. I wonder if one would consider him attractive. He’s not bad-looking, I suppose. Jordain was tall, taller than Wrell, with a strong, stable frame. His face wasn’t clean cut, to say the least- he sported his fair share of scars and scrapes. He had mesmerizing hazel eyes and dark brown hair that fell in curls to his shoulders. In another life, Jordain could very well have passed for Wrell’s father. That was how she preferred to think of him.

“Hello, travelers. Do not be afraid, we mean you no harm. My name is Jordain. Jordain Malacarne. I am like you- as in, I was also taken from my home plane and brought here- to Nyr’il. Please, what are your names, before we proceed?”

855 words

Susan took a moment to take in the people that were now standing in front of her. She had expected someone to appear once she called but she hadn't expected four people to just show up out of nowhere. And now that she looked around, she could see even more people in the room with her, and judging by how they were standing next to her, she assumed that perhaps they had been brought here just like she had. Or maybe that was a trick to make her trust them. It was very hard to be sure when it came to things like this. She'd learnt that the hard way.

One of the people stepped forward to speak.

“Hello, travelers. Do not be afraid, we mean you no harm. My name is Jordain. Jordain Malacarne. I am like you- as in, I was also taken from my home plane and brought here- to Nyr’il. Please, what are your names, before we proceed?”

Susan took a moment to process that. Jordain has just confirmed here suspicion that this was definitely not the land of the dead, not even one of its sister planes. This was a completely new place and judging by the smell of food, it was probably a plane for the living which meant things could get complicated. A lot of living beings tended to not be the biggest fans of the dead, and having more than here fair share of very bitter souls of the dead, she couldn't exactly blame the living having a bit of a prejudice.

The fact that the man did seem welcoming towards them was a good sign. It looked, at least on the surface, like whatever had brought Susan here was something that happened in the place quite often. The way that Jordain greeted them sounded like something he'd said more than once. The way he seemed to immediately tell them not to fear being harmed and mentioned he was brought here much like them suggested that perhaps he wanted them to trust him.

Susan wasn't going to buy that quite so easily however. Everyone that ever started a conversation with "we mean you no harm" was at least suspecting that the people they're talking to had a chance to think they'd be harmed which was quite true considering the overwhelming feeling of "you shouldn't be here". The only other places she knew of that felt like that were the darkest depths of the underworld meant for eternal punishment and those were not the sort of places you'd be happy about having similarities with.

The other alarming thing about that greeting was the fact that it sounded like something Jordain had said more than once. If he'd been around for long enough to know when to greet new arrivals and how...that meant he'd been around for a long time, which meant they could be stuck in this place...Jordain had called it Nyr'il and that didn't sound like a good thing at all. Something was definitely not right with what was going on and that wasn't just the room talking.

Despite all of that, Susan knew she was going to have to try and cooperate here, at least at the start before she could think of doing anything like an escape. At the moment, all she knew about this place was its name and the fact that people were brought here for some reason. Not to mention all of that information was based on what this random stranger was saying and he could very well just be making all of that up. The only thing she could completely confirm was that she was no longer anywhere near the place she called home.

"Umm, hii," said Susan, trying to appear as confident as possible, "I'm Susan, Susan Danvers. And uhh...what exactly are we going to proceed with?"

642 words