User blog:GamerNerd i/Author’s Update: Work(s) in Progress

Greetings from a bus driving northward in California that is filled with about 50 or so high school sophomores and juniors. That is to say, hello from the college tour I’m taking.

I know I should have released another installment of Dei er Viri a while ago, but things have been hectic and I haven’t quite had the chance to finish it. Not only that, but about halfway through it I realized that Clarisse La Rue isn’t canonically in Camp Half Blood anymore. So that sucks.

In other news, I’ve begun writing a little subplot concerning one of the Recreators’ children. It’s probably a bad idea considering that it technically takes place after the entirety of Trial By Fire, but what the hell, we’re dealing with time traveling children. We’ll get to the point where things make sense.

In fact, I have here with me a little snippet of this story. Let’s see what kind of trouble our aggressive artist is getting into...

Through the Gates
Azura was bored. Like, really bored.

She had thought that her parents’ lives would have been more action packed. They’d told her and her brother all about their adventures as Recreators. With all the stories, she’d never considered that there would be slow times, too. Her father always seemed to be busy with schoolwork. Her mother was in a frantic state, doing last minute preparations for a club event. Even Frey, her brother, seemed to be preoccupied, having discovered videos of some guy who pulled together conspiracy theories about movies.

At least the castle, an unusual amalgamation of doorways, gateways, and portals to various dimensions, was entertaining.

Her parents weren’t present, but they had given the siblings relatively free reign over the castle. Relatively free; there were two portals that their parents told them to never go through. The first was their mother’s: a Roman arch decorated with Egyptian hieroglyphs on a path that appeared to be the branch of a massive ash tree. The second was their father’s: A gateway adorned in golden weaving patterns reminiscent of Celtic knots, set against white on the left and black on the right, with shades of frosty cyan and blazing orange in between.

Azura had little interest in the first portal. Not to say hat she wasn’t curious, but something about the second called to her, as if singing a siren’s song—and her mother had warned her about following any kind of siren song.

One day, however, the gate did sing.

The song was familiar; her mother had taught it to her brother. But he wasn’t the one singing this time. The voice was distinctly feminine, and her mother wasn’t around. The lyrics wafted through the air, working their way into her ears. Azura stood frozen, staring at the gate.

Soon, the song ended, and the trance was broken. Disappointed that nothing had happened, Azura turned to leave.

“Azura!”

The girl turned, staring for a bit longer at the gate.

“Azura, come on,” a woman was saying on the other side, “the tactician needs you!” Azura shook her head and walked away. Her father had said that her namesake came from the world behind that gate, so it wasn’t likely that whoever was on the other side would be calling her.

But her curiosity burned. He had also told her his titles in that world: Great Hero, Summoner, and, proudest of all, Tactician.

Her curiosity won. Dashing back to the gate, she pushed through the thin film that separated the dimensions and entered the world of Zenith.