Table of Contents: The Demo Tapes

The Demo Tapes is what I’m calling the work, or versions of work, that I put in my most recent literary portfolio. Why? Because “portfolio” sounds boring, and “demo tape” sounds cool. I also love the music reference.

The Summer 2019 Portfolio was aggressively assembled in about a week, and vigorously edited with the help of my good friend, and my mom. It successfully got my into the third year creative writing sub. I hope you enjoy it as much as the professors at my university may or may not have!

[Please note that as of right now, the entirety of my portfolio has not been published. Keep an eye out, the site updates once a week!]

2019 Portfolio

  1. Raze
  3. Wraith Hail (Artifact Edition)
  4. Fathom’s Qart
  5. Chapter 6: The Assassin’s Secret; or The Lussa Part1
  6. [More Coming]

(The alternate version were not included in the submitted Portfolio.)

2018 Portfolio

[Coming Soon]



The Solune Prince: Chapter 19

The Solune Prince

Novella 1

Chapter 19: [Untitled]

[Author’s Note: It’s been six months, did you miss me? Or perhaps Chloe Rhye? Haha]

<<<<<Chapter 1
<<Previous chapter
<Table of Contents>

Chloe stood and sort of tumble-pranced down the throne steps to at equal footing with her parents. They stood and discussed the details of the trip.

Eventually, Chloe asked, “…But should not some leader be taken with us?”

Her mother replied, “We are sending a prince, are we not?”


“No, you!”

“Ah…I will be sent…as the leader?”

The King said, “This is your expedition, is it not?”


“And further,” her mother added, “was it not you who assembled this team of individuals?”

Her father said, “Yes, you have capabilities beyond what you may suppose. The journey will be difficult, but your years as royalty, and your capabilities demonstrated thus far will sustain you through it.”

They stood for a few moments and Chloe considered her position. Doubt crept into her mind, and though it did not grip her, it did concern her. She said, “And yet…I have only ever left the kingdom once.”

“Is it not the role of a leader to take advantage of the talent and experience of her troops?” Gwenhime said, a little fervently.


“To put it a little more universally,” said the King, “ It is appropriate for a leader to utilize and perhaps even lean on the abilities of his or her followers. Kent, for example, is your brother, someone you know and trust, and he has been, even lived outside the kingdom.”

“And so…” Chloe mumbled, “So…ah, so I can ask for help from my followers?”

“And you should.”

“Would, ha, would this not make me appear weak in their eyes?” Her gaze flicked for a moment to her mother, and then back.

“No,” the King replied, “rather, it will demonstrate that you value them and their ability.”

“Chloe, doubtful, paused and looked to her mother again, this time, for confirmation.

Gwenhime said, “Everyone has a place in an army. Commanders command, swordsmen cut, agents scout or even assassinate. Leaders lead. While we should be capable of all things, it is not necessary that we be superior in them except for that which is our role: to lead.”

“Hmm…” Chloe bit her lip.

There was a silence as Chloe thought about and consolidated the information. Then, the conversation continued on to more mundane and particular topics regarding the expedition.


Chloe sat on her bed. It was morning and she had dressed for the arena, but she just sat, swinging her feet. She glanced at her bedside table, at the notebook she had placed there. The cover read, in her own handwriting, What Little We Know about the Lussa. She breathed, stood up, and went downstairs.


Siren, a man interested in complementary food of any sort, had headed to the castle’s cafeteria.

Alexandre was already there and already eating. Siren understood how a cafeteria worked, and had no issues getting food. He looked around at all the tables filled with guards and then awkwardly sat across from Alexandre.

They ate in silence for a while, and then Alexandre asked, “So, what do you think of this whole arena business?”

Siren shook his head. “I’m not so sure. I am not so great a fighter.”

“Do you have any experience?”

“Not really.”

“You might be in trouble.”

“Well…if Lilllith doesn’t let me go, I want to tell you something.”

Alexandre shrugged, and returned to her food.

Chloe sat down next to them, and Siren gave up on the conversation. He asked Chloe what she thought of the whole arena business, and if she was worried.

“Ah, well, I have seen combat before.”

“Oh, right, during the Legendary Event or whatever, right?”

“Yes. Since then my mother has been keeping my skills attuned. It should not be too bad.”

Siren frowned. He finished eating and went out to the arena ahead of them.


True to the King’s words, there was a section of the field just outside the city with benches arranged around it in a large circle. Chloe marvelled as they approached the flattened grounds and the bustling crowd.

The area in front of the castle was maintained for the purpose of sporting, but usually she didn’t pay much attention to such events. She tended to stay indoors and study.

“Ah, it’s been years since I have seen something like this…”

“I used to play in this field as a kid,” Alexandre stated, “Finch and Artus and Alice and I. Time moves very fast. Too fast.”

Chloe looked at her sidelong as they walked. Alexandre didn’t usually say anything so personal.

“I remember. You were one of the children then? I used to see you. It is very rare that children, even in groups, play outside the city walls.”

Alexandre nodded. A moment passed, and then she stopped walking.

Chloe stopped too. “What is it?”

“What—I remember you too, the Prince with her books.”


“No.” Alexandre turned, “No no. You can’t be the same person, that was,” she counted in her mind, “seven or so years ago.”

Chloe studied Alexandre’s features, unable to get a read; she didn’t know her well enough. She faltered, “Ah, yes?”

“No!” Alexandre grabbed her own head, “No, this…how can you’ve just exited adolescence for seven years? It is not possible. You look like you could be younger than me, but when I was a child you looked…exactly the same.”

Chloe shook her head. It is not complicated. Chloe moved Alex’s hand away and placed her palm on the woman’s forehead, pushing hair away. She took a breath, and gathered her contractions. “It’s okay Alexandre. This is not a secret. I can explain it to you in detail if you wish.” She could see Alexandre calming. “But right now is not the time. We have an ambassador to impress upon.”

Chloe let go of her head. Alexandre wondered if this is how Ammelia felt when they had encountered each other in the office.

Chloe saw Alexandre rub her eyes. The pair started walking again.

And yet, here we are again.

Next Chapter: The Arena Part1>>
Table of Contents
<<Chapter 18: Jagged Assembly III

Daniel Triumph.

Fathom’s Qart

We’re nearly done, ladies and gentlemen.
Just have to calm the animal spirit, and we can continue this journey.

I would like to thank Dr. Nasser Hussain for encouraging me to return to this piece and fix the verse and meter.


I’ll be a while
Because I need to see the sun set
What will we do?
Who am I to ask such a question?
Will we stay two
And you know how I feel about you
You don’t know all the things I could do
I could save me from the twilight…

Thought you were gone
We don’t know how you feel on it too,                                 do you…
And I guess I was right for a moment
And I guess that I should’ve known better                          than to think
Think that I could ever known a moment
What your beautiful soul                                                        Innocence that’s within

Our modesty, temperance                                                       rarely infringed, and

What do I do
Because I really’d hoped to have known                you
And through all of my hands now it                        passed through
I just wish that I’d had my good                                judgement
Because I think about you                                          oftentimes
And I’ll have to find my own way now
And I wonder if where I would find you
And I wonder

If you would love me if I did
Because you don’t always make it                                         when I do
What does it mean
That all my hands

—They have changed since I met you

And now my mind’s turned around                                      I can tell you
And it has been for the best                                                     I can prove you

From the trauma, rethinking;                                                 the pressure, and
How do I know
Do I know which is good which is poor                                and
And I want to ask                                                                       —but
Deals subject to whim                                                              And it comes back to us.
You know I think it’s obvious that
That we are both have a hand in this place
And I said to myself oh how futile
Because you know we both know—                                      we both know—

And did I say I would wait?
And did you hear when I                              called out your name?
“And now what have I done”
I would think on it over and over
Because I really had thought it was over
And then you touched once again,
You know it isn’t too late                               to saw we were wrong
And we know I’ll make sure                         don’t regret it
Don’t regret anything that we’ve done
I’ll make sure that I wait for a moment,
Just don’t wait too long because you know it
Know that if it’s maintained                           then it stays—
And I really don’t know how you see it
But I’d rather we find our own eden
And that maybe some day I would notice

If you walked beneath the treetops

And if I saw that you were walking there
And if were all alone and even if you were not,
I would call out your name.

Daniel Triumph.

I highly suggest you check out the following songs:
Finn Hatches a Plan
Addicted to Chaos

This version of Fathom’s Second was created for 3rd year Creative Writing portfolio. The original was created for Luisa, and so was this.

This is, as noted above, nearly the final chapter. I will be taking the fumes of my affection, and likely writing a final act.

If you need more, there’s this.

Wraith Hail (Artifact Edition)

The Demo Tapes Part 2 – Wraith Hail.

To anyone who has read one of the two previous uploads of “Wraith Hail,” please note that this version of the story is quite different.

Due to WordPress’s frustratingly limited formatting options, I should inform you of one thing: the italicized numbers are markers for the endnotes. Scroll down to the bottom to see them.

The more of you that I inspect,

The more of me I see reflect.

And when my excuses were perfect,

Realized I was an object.

I’m in this, here, a room, I have a dictionary I have a bed.

You own with food, water, estate,

And you, your story, takes a twist, the bed is red.


Tell me, what was I to you?

I’m a scholar, I know the words.

I just…don’t remember, let jog my mind; open the book:


Con”cu*bine (?), n. [F., fr. L. concubinacon- + cubare to lie down,concumbere to lie together, akin to E. cubit.]

  1. A woman who cohabits with a man without being his wife; a paramour.
  2. A wife of inferior condition; a lawful wife, but not united to the man by the usual ceremonies, and of inferior condition. Such were Hagar and Keturah, the concubines of Abraham; and such concubines were allowed by the Roman laws. Their children were not heirs of their father.

It’s funny, isn’t it?

They used to tell me…know your place.

This isn’t my place, is it?

It’s only yours. It is Orion. His name is Orion.

There is a pile of papers and books in the corner,

Near my mother;

She is insane.

“Gasoline was too expensive!” She sings, “I got kerosene! Ah, look! It doesn’t smoke as much, how lovely.” 

I watch the fire. I’ll die here, impure; my mind, inflamed. How many of my friends; they call it monogamy, but if you’re not a wife, you’re…concubine.

Let it burn me, mother Hail. The grandfather clock strikes twenty minutes afire.

“Come now, don’t be retarded, look, it’s your man, calling in the hall!”

The flames are silent. They drift into the vents. The room is stone, it’s stone, it’s stone, it’s…the tapestry, a gift from my mother, catches fire, then the rug, just let me die.

“Come, Alexandre, darling, listen!”

The fire, I am a kēmist by training. Kerosene, it is a flammable liquid, the vapours can explode.

The air in the room ignites, a cold burst of red and yellow and orange and painful and mother help me

Engaged in crime I grasp my throat

Enraged my mind starts to smoke

Enforce a mental overload

Angry again, angry again, angry—


Come dear, “she says,” I am disoriented, my bed is singed, but it didn’t catch. But the rug is finding its way to me. I’m dead.

“Come on, you can do it!”

I see her beckon. I hear from the hall, calls for his life. He doesn’t call for me. Useless man. All the servants are out, he is alone, but for me.

“Let the wicked burn! My love, we have work to do here yet! Can’t you see them? They dance with the flames, the wicked, still, look! I am to join them, but my lovely, you still need taking care of, don’t you?”

You can always trust a madman—if she’s your mother.

I stand up, the bed catches, finally, sharing a moment of heat and lust with the rug. I don’t see smoke, but I cough anyway.

“Look!” he enters the room, my mother is still not helping, she’s helping, look, I look, I look, I loo-

“Hey, kiddo,” I say to him, I say to Orion.

Orion, my owner, looks at me, he’s frightened, paralyzed. He; I feel now, that my resentment was misplaced. He scans the books, on fire. I take the dictionary from the smoldering bed and add it to the pyre and then laugh as my mother does; the saccharine laugh of our family.

“Nice of you to join us, what’s burning? Did the vents do their job?” I stride to the window and open it. The flames feed on the oxygen, the atmosphere, my life.

“Everything! There was a burst in every ventilated room—”

I hated him, so I took him and threw him out the window, save them from the flames, I called to him, about the others long gone.

Then, my mother and I, we left the building and let it die, die instead of me, I’m more important. I’m more important.


1 The first two lines are identical to the first two lines of “Angry Again” by Megadeth. Song lyrics, notorious for being aggressively guarded by record companies, almost never make it into published work. Thus, this piece can never be officially released.

2 The dictionary used is the anachronistic Webster’s New International Dictionary of the English Language, revised 1913 edition; chosen to avoid copyrights—despite the use of copyrighted lyrics both before and after it. A fifteenth or sixteenth century dictionary would have been more period-appropriate.

3 Seeming anachronisms, while potentially setting-permissible, should be removed to supress reader speculation. When allowed to remain, they can undermine the legitimacy of the text.

4 The Greek (Romanized)a spelling of chemist is used due to the context of the piece. This should be changed to chemist to maintain the pretence of legitimacy in the text.

5 The four lines before “HELP ME” is nearly the entire chorus of “Angry Again;” the song that opened the piece. This further undermines the text, and enforces its unpublishability.

a First coined 1605, from chemist +‎ -ry. From chemist, chymist, from Latin alchimista, from Arabic اَلْكِيمِيَاء‎ (al-kīmiyāʾ), from article اَل‎ (al-) + Ancient Greek χυμεία (khumeía, “art of alloying metals”), from χύμα (khúma, “fluid”), from χυμός (khumós, “juice”), from χέω (khéō, “I pour”). (

i Sourced from the creative commons, to avoid conflicts of legitimacy.

Daniel Triumph.