Honestly, I have no idea what this is about. It’s vaguely political for sure. Maybe you can have a go at it, as Northrop Frye says: The poet is not the ultimate judge of his art. (Though he can put on the “critic hat” so to speak, and become one of the many critics for his or her work.)
I’ll also put a note about TSP at the end for those who read the serial.
Forces you do not know, but you could understand.
Politics, the wake of war,
Cold wars are heating up again.
South Africa, kill the whites.
Don’t cover it, cover it up
Our permissible genocide
In the making.
Wake the sleeping giants, wake the beast
Don’t close your eyes don’t stop your feet.
We know, you know: Man is not judged
for what we did not know.
But is knowledge is power,
You know or ignore it,
The world may rot inside your fingers.
(That the world may know peace…)
To whom shall the blame be taken?
For whom does the bell toll?
Executive orders is not a strong plea.
Walk into the pain of the light,
And lift up the rocks,
Sear the parasite.
Watch the world.
Few references in this piece I have no issues pointing out:
Cold wars are heating up again. Megadeth, from “Blackmail the Universe.”
South Africa, kill the whites. This is literally happening. Racism, torture, death. And the mass media is silent on it for some reason… (can you guess why? White people can’t be victims!) Katie Hopkins is keeping an eye on it. Here’s a decent link if you’re interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXDpvN4V-RY
Wake the sleeping giants, wake the beast. Metallica, from “Shoot Me Again”
That the world may know peace… This was a sort of mantra that a few characters from Oretachi Ni Tsubasa Wa Nai (…Under the Innocent Sky) said when he was stressed. It’s an anime, although it’s definitely rated 18+, so keep that in mind if you want to look into it. (Talked about it a bit in an old blog piece of mine.)
For whom does the bell toll? A loose reference to Metallica’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” To be honest, I’m not that familiar with the song, just the title. I really only know St. Anger.
Reflex Deflex. A reference to a type of bow. It’s a form of longbow/recurve bow.
The 17th chapter, Jagged Assembly II, will be out, for sure, next Thursday. Of course, this doesn’t count as a “missed week” according to the schedule, as I set as guarantees every second week OR every week.
It’s exam time, and the safety net of every second week is in play here. Anyway, see you then. Looks like the narrative is getting a cool little sub plot for a few of the characters.
Three members of the Rhye family deemed it necessary to wash before continuing to the throne room. Chloe finished first (by a large margin), and headed down to the throne room.
“Come now, your rudeness, are you to be on Chloe’s expedition team then? Is that why you are here this morning?” Lilllith’s smile was wide, her eyes approaching feral.
I’ve killed more depraved looking people by accident. I’ll not fear her. That Alex had to remind herself of this disturbed her, but she spoke regardless.
“Yes; I believe I’m the first to join.”
“Of course you were.” Lilllith’s expression, despite her words, softened. “I am very interested in your manner. Likely you, you appear to care nothing for status. Is that not so? Is it that you believe everyone to be equal?”
“One of these dissident, ‘respect the janitor as we respect the ruler’ types, then?”
“I have a hierarchy. Even criminals rank higher than the lazy.”
“So what’s a janitor on such a scale as yours?”
“Well, obviously above a criminal, if they’re law-fearing.”
Lilllith gave Alexandre a strange look, a look of disbelief; as if she couldn’t understand how the woman had come to such a conclusion.
“You, of all people, teeth of silver, smooth skin around your eyes, the lips and—”
Her words stopped. She didn’t understand why, but she felt the need to speak no more. Alexandre stared, her grey eyes piercing Lilllith’s.
“Perhaps you are correct, and I am not law fearing. I fear he who creates the laws,” Alexandre said. She maintained the stare, blinking passively. Lilllith had the strange feeling that even this statement wasn’t entirely true.
There was the crack of iron on stone, as if someone very powerful had tried to open the door without turning the latch.
Lilllith, intimidated, jumped a little at the sudden noise, and froze. Astore (who had been nervously observing the two women) also jumped, though far more visibly. The handle turned.
“Ah!” Said a small voice.
“Who? Oh, Chloe it is you.” Lilllith composed herself. “Prince Chloe,” she corrected.
The surprised young women mumbled into the room and closed the door behind her “Ah ha, yes, it is me…”
Lilllith regarded her. Chloe had cheery, worried eyes. She noticed that when Chloe saw who was (or perhaps wasn’t) in the room, she became openly worried.
This, she who will not even hide her expression, is to be the ambassador of the Solune Royalty? Surely, she thought, this was the same nervous woman from last night. Chloe was dressed in loose clothes, though not in the same robe-like sheets as she wore during the supper. Instead, loose pants accompanied her shirt. Her hair curled softly down her back and chest, ending only past the waist save for the eye-level bangs in the front. Chloe blinked with weak eyes.
“Where is my father and mother? Or—” She finally caught herself, “Is anyone here who has authority or royal direction?”
Chloe looked to Astore, but she could tell by his expression that he too was uninformed. She began to gather her existence, but was interrupted by two more visitors.
Kent and Senica entered quietly, breaking her flow. She asked them, “Is Natasha coming? Or father?”
Kent shrugged for the two of them. Chloe was on her own. She rubbed her forehead with both hands, and then walked up the three steps, standing between the two thrones to address the room.
Lilllith stared her down, and Chloe noticed. As royalty, she wasn’t used to such looks, but she had in her life certainly encountered enough that it did not cause her to falter.
“I suppose that we must wait for everyone to arrive before—” Chloe started, and then immediately rephrased. “We shouldn’t, ah, get too specific before everyone is here, so, as we have yet perhaps half a sixth, I mean an hour, since we have some time yet, I suppose that I will explain in broad strokes what I believe will be happening?”
Alexandre nodded, and Chloe gave her audience a slight smile, continuing. “Although ultimately we are the party offering and sending aid, Lilllith is the only person from the Underside—” She thought of Ammelia and repositioned, “—the only person from the Underside who has come to help us, and therefore I believe that her wish to test the knowledge or strength or…whatever criteria she as chosen… I believe that such a notion is ultimately appropriate.”
Chloe looked around the room. She was unsure of what else there was to say.
Lilllith said, “Well, I suppose I should be glad to have garnered your approval, although, is not the arena being assembled already?”
“Ah, yes. I suppose it is nearly finished, though I am not sure of the details. Natasha would know. Where is she?”
Astore said, “She can be extremely punctual at times. I think that, as you said this was a noontime meeting and it’s still a few minutes to noon, she’s not here yet.”
“Just as the sun is not here yet.” Chloe nodded, and then looked up at the ceiling. The throne room was two stories high, unlike the rest of the first floor, and there was a hexagonal hole in its ceiling.
“How is it that you keep time in this city?” Lilllith asked.
Chloe replied, “There is the belltower, but even that is tuned to high noon using” she pointed at the hexagonal hole, “noon-poles. They only shine when light filters down the entire tube.”
Lilllith followed Chloe’s finger and saw the hole, between the thrones and the hanging lantern. It was filled with glass, a sure feat of pure craftsmanship. It made perfect sense. “So, when this illuminates, we should expect Natasha?”
“Ah, I suppose.”
Alexandre looked up. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the hole explained how there could be any sort of ambient light in the throne room when the lamps were unlit.
As high-noon hit the castle, the glass embedded in the ceiling acted as a lens, brightening the entire throne room three or four times as much as the lantern had.
Natasha arrived as the light began to dim, opening up the door and ushering in a fairly shabby looking blonde man.
“I believe with this one, we have everyone.” She led the man into the room physically, grabbing his blue-grey coat by the shoulder and gently but firmly pushing him into the room ahead of her. She entered behind him and let the door close itself behind her.
To Chloe, the man looked rather dishevelled, but she couldn’t tell if it was because of being somewhat rudely handled by her sister, or if he was like that in general. He seemed young, his hair was shaggy and lightly coloured, and he had a lazily stubbled face.
“Ah…” Chloe surveyed her audience, getting a good look at them before the noon’s light left the chamber and they were returned to less organic light. “Ah…”
Natasha noticed that Chloe was a little lost, so she stepped past the rest of the group towards the throne, stopping at the bottom of the steps, and to Chloe’s left, as not to obstruct line of sight to her.
“You have a somewhat small party. It is fitting, I suppose, that it is to be a small group of supposed elites.” Natasha spoke, echoing the words of her father many months ago. “Let us introduce ourselves while we wait for the King and his Wife.”
“That sounds good.” Chloe nodded a little frantically.
Natasha took a clipboard from her satchel, and took the clasp from the bottom out. She brandished a fountain pen.
A couple things before the piece starts. You can skip ahead if you just want to get to the narrative.
First: This is a lightly edited sort of experiment. This piece projects itself into a much later chapter of The Solune Prince. Short background, the general concept is sort of a “coming of age” story for Chloe Rhye, and right now, in Novella 1, Chloe is in her own kingdom, but here she’s already at her destination: The Lussa City.
It’s from my Creative Writing workshop, so it’s part of an exercise, which was: write the same piece using two different styles. This is marked with the (1) and (2).
Second: The next chapter of The Solune Princewill be up later today. This is not a “replacement” for it like the IOU from last week. Due to a somewhat stressful existence last week (both mentally and physically), as well as the late-term deadlock of university assignments, I’ll be writing the chapter on the day of its release. So, basically as you’re reading this.
Now, we shouldn’t have to worry about quality control for the following reasons: a) I’ve handwritten this chapter already. The major problem is really that I decided I had to change a few things, and so about 75% of that chapter had to be moved ahead in the story to some completely different parallel-universe chapter. Then b) I do have a decent idea of how I want this chapter to go, and what sort of changes I need to make to continue the story as intended, but also modify the sort-of mess it became. Essentially, I need to rewrite.
I’ll have to elaborate on all that in a full post later but for now I’ll put it like this: There are a few key points I want to re-arrange, some stuff I need to rework, and some stuff that will likely have to go altogether. Thus, chapters 17-19, which have all been handwritten, will need to be redone. (Re-handwritten, and then typed.)
Not a big problem, in fact it’s sort of a relief, as I’m extracting myself out of a sort of narrative hole, and then taking a better grasp of the story. For now, enjoy this projection into the future, and we’ll see whether this, too, get’s changed when the time comes.
(1) It was yesterday. We were spraying, as usual. I admit we were spray painting. Look, I know the law and we had the permits. Show them the permits. We had the right to be there.
If I were less ethical, I could have blamed the other guys. In fact, I could have abandoned them and ran. But I am a man of Noah, and I know the law; at least I know that part. This happens a lot. Police usually don’t know anything, they just don’t. Luckily for us, I do.
‘Hey! You can’t be markin’ up that wall like that! Is that another one of them canted x-shapes? It’s you lot then, markin’ up the town! You best give all that up and come in with us.’
I heard them shouting, so I came, I ran. But, man, my peers are so…so good at fumbling up tense situations. Good thing I know the urban sprint. Hop, skip, run up the walls, onto the trash, swing off the window bars, slide down the side, skid ‘round the corner, man. Nice.
“You best leave my team alone. We’re here on business.” That’s what I said. Business. Usually stops them. But they didn’t even hear! Looks like the ‘prince’ over there already had it down, but damn! She was talking the wrong law! Where is she from?
She said, ‘No, this isn’t public property, it’s without your jurisdiction, unless you get a formal complaint. Look, he has our papers, this is a job. What about you? Do you have your papers? Was there a complaint? Any warrant for you being here?”
Oh man, that’s not how things work here missy! After that, well, whew, violence man. We didn’t even move, but missy dismantled everyone for us. No sweat.
(2) The litigator moved on to a different witness. “And you, you were there, my lord?”
‘As a bystander. I only saw the second part.’
“Please describe what you saw.”
‘Haha. Missy, that’s miss Chloe Rhye, fifth Prince of the Solune. They don’t have the honorific “princess” where she comes from. What a people, the Solune. She dismantled your three officers in seconds. Truly admirable—from a tactical perspective.
‘The draw of her weapon became the first attack, a cut across the chestplate of your first man. She flicked back the instant she’d made her hit; truly, a trained movement. Her weapon was back out before it could be seized—she slid into tierce with little effort.’
“Could you please limit the technical—”
‘That’s a point-up guard. She followed tierce up with a four, and then another four—’
‘—That’s an underhand thrust that ends in an upward sweep. Your men are so slow that she could hit with four twice before having to go back into a carte. And Chloe didn’t even bother moving onto the later cycles, although maybe she doesn’t know them. Regardless, she held carte and just kicked the poor man to the ground.
‘The rest fell likewise; engage stance on the secondary officer, (she has a terrific engage), into a one, into prime parry stance, smack the tertiary officer with a two, up to…I really wish she would protect her sword arm, but no, she slides back into engage carte, beats the secondary officer’s pikesword out of his hand, a smack to the face with the off hand, and then, no guard whatsoever, she grips her sabre two-hand (a very bad idea), and hits an oncoming attack from the tertiary. And then, lo! Kicks officer three to the ground as well! To my great pleasure, she cycled back to a carte, and then a prime hanging guard before sheathing. You may now understand why it is she prefers the military sabre to the officer’s one.’
“…You seem almost pleased about what occurred here.”
‘Truly; I trained her in the sabre.’ At this, the first witness laughed. ‘Further, as royal emissary, Prince Rhye, I believe, is subject to diplomatic immunity. Why she was with these vagrants is beyond my knowledge, however, she should answer to the Lussa royalty, not the law. I assume that you have contacted Prince Ryann?’
There was a short discussion among the court, and then recess was called.
You can see it was a bit of fun, an exercise in style.
See you later today, hopefully, or later than that. You can subscribe if you want, or follow my facebook, which is mostly auto-updates from this page anyway. I mostly chat and stuff on twitter, and my instagram has some cool visual arts and other ramblings.
Anyway, thanks for reading, I’ll be here every week lol. (And also later on today.)