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everyone-has-a-secret-whats-urs · 3 months ago

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Book 1 sneak peek

Beneath The Shifting Sands

Chapter 1: The Waking Sands

Freya Blackthorn awoke to the soft rustling of the wind, which swept through the remnants of her once-vibrant town. As she rose from her makeshift bed of tattered blankets and ancient relics of the past, the first rays of dawn filtered through the torn fabric that served as a curtain. Dust danced in the air, catching the light like tiny fairies teasing her trying to refresh her hope for a day filled with determination, a day filled with hope for a change. But as she stepped outside, her heart sank at the sight of an endless expanse of golden dunes, barren and lifeless, stretching as far as the eye could see.

In the years since the catastrophic sandstorm had ravaged Arvidale claiming its colourful buildings and cherished gardens, the relentless sands had claimed dominion over what remained. Memories flooded Freya’s mind: the vibrant marketplaces brimming with laughter, the bright textiles that adorned the hollering stalls, and the enchanting stories her grandmother used to tell her beneath the shade of the great Tree—a giant fig that seemed to touch the sky with its sprawling branches.

“Arvidale was once a jewel,” her grandmother would say, her eyes glistening with the knowledge of a bygone era. “A place where hope blossomed as brightly as the flowers in the field. Remember, Freya, amid the sands, the jewels may have been buried, but they are not lost.” With her grandmother's words echoing in her thoughts, Freya often wandered the arid landscape, searching for traces of that forgotten beauty.

Yet today, she felt a different pull. Standing among the skeletal ruins of brick walls and weathered artifacts, she clutched an ancient clay figurine—a mere shard from what had once been part of a grand sculpture. Its surface felt cool against her palm, a distant reminder of the artistry that had flourished in her world. “What stories could you tell if you were whole?” she whispered to the broken piece, wishing for the ability to hear its silent adventure.

As Freya ventured further, the playful wind called to her, teasing her hair into disarray. The day was waking slowly; the deep silence of early morning was punctuated only by the occasional call of a lone bird searching for food in the lifeless wasteland. She recalled hunting for herbs with her friends before the storm—joyous expeditions where the landscape sang with life, interspersed with fragrant blooms and vibrant creatures darting between the colourful flora. Each corner of Arvidale had echoed with the drumbeat of community, the pulse of existence that had thrived despite hardships.

Now, however, the landscape around her was hauntingly still. Each step felt like a dance with memory, a delicate balance between the past she longed for and the present that haunted her. Freya brushed a hand against the crumbling wall of what had once been her favourite bakery—sweet aromas had danced in the air from freshly baked bread during that golden time. In contrast, now all she could smell was the dry, gritty taste of the sand that enveloped everything, suffocating the remnants of what had been.

“Why did you leave us?” she murmured, glaring at the sky as though hoping it would offer an explanation. Frustrated by the silence, she brought her fists to her sides, feeling the defiance that had become her secret ally. The wind responded with a soft howl, almost urging her to look beyond despair. “You’re right,” she mumbled with a hint of determination. “I have to find a way to make it better. To wake Arvidale from its slumber.”

With her curiosity ignited, Freya began to collect bits of discarded items strewn about the floor, each piece a potential puzzle in her attempts to piece together the story of Arvidale’s fall and potential resurrection. She scavenged metals that glimmered under the sun, battered pots that could be refurbished, and colourful shards of broken pottery that hinted at beauty once lost. She imagined the creations each fragment could become, dreaming of a world full of colour and laughter again.

In her heart, a burning desire flickered—a dream to revive Arvidale, not just for herself but for the generations to come. “If I can scour the sands to find hints of life,” she proclaimed to the emptiness, “then perhaps, just perhaps, I can lead the others who are left to reclaim it.”

As the sun began its ascent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Freya felt the warmth of hope envelop her like a comforting blanket. She understood that while the sands of time had buried her town, they could also hide the seeds of rebirth. Looking toward the horizon, she envisioned a future where colours would return, where laughter would once again fill the air, and where the spirit of community would rise from the ashes of despair.

With renewed vigour and determination, Freya moved into the waking sands, a spirited dancer amidst desolation, ready to embark on a quest to awaken the heart of Arvidale. The memories of her past whispered in her ear, guiding her, as the winds carrying the promise of change swirled around her like an embracing hug. The adventure of reclaiming their vibrant history was just beginning, and Freya the spirited dreamer, was prepared to lead the way.

“I will not let you die, Arvidale will rise again and this sand covered haven will return to dust” she swore a silent promise as she continued forward.

Chapter 2: Whispers of the Past

The sun rose higher into the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the sand-covered town of Arvidale. As Freya walked further to the edge of town,

She was drawn in by the familiar clinks and clanks of the libraries wind chimes as they danced in the gentle breeze. Freya pulled the covering over her face more as the swirling sand whirled through the air, she stopped for a moment entranced as if the wind chime was whispering secrets from the past that beckoned her to listen. Today, she walked over to the porch of an elderly women who refused to leave like Freya had.Only a few dared to stay behind the majority of the town left including her parents and two younger siblings in search for other cities with hope in their hearts. Over time two of the towns folks who returned told the horror stories of the vastness of nothing and how some perished outside on the way from the active sand storms and starvation. Freya only hoped her family and others made it to another city as the few who stayed waited for news to come form their family and friends who left, but so far there was only silence. As Freya approached the elderly lady named Gertrude, whose stories were as rich and layered as the sands that surrounded them.

Gertrude sat in her usual spot, a weathered rocking chair creaking softly as she reminisced about times long gone. Her silver hair glinted like spun gold, and her eyes sparkled with the fire of a thousand untold journeys. Freya approached, curiosity piqued, and settled beside her, eager to gather tales that might hold the key to understanding their fate.

“Gertrude tell me about the Red Star again,” Freya asked, her voice barely above a whisper, entranced by the legend.

A knowing smile curled on Gertrude’s lips, and she began, “Long ago, when our ancestors roamed freely under the vast night sky, the Red Star appeared in times of despair. It glowed fiercely, a beacon of hope for lost souls. They say those who followed its light were guided to lands abundant with life—a sanctuary amidst the most unforgiving.

As Gertrude spoke, Freya felt a stirring within her—a flicker of hope amidst shadows of uncertainty. “Do you think it’s real?” she pressed, her heart racing as visions of a lush paradise filled her mind.

With a nod, Gertrude replied, “It was believe that the Red Star could see into one's heart, revealing the courage within. It tests those who seek it, challenging them to confront their deepest fears before granting them the solace they desire.”

Freya’s thoughts began to swirl. Could this mythical beacon really be the last hope for her people, who faced starvation and peril with every passing day? A fire ignited in her heart, and as a fleeting breeze lifted the dust from the ground, it felt like the star itself was calling to her, urging her to embark on a quest that could change everything.

Chapter 3: The Decision

The following day brought news that rippled across Arvidale, igniting fervent discussions among the few who gathered in the corners. Whispers of a rebel force, emboldened by desperation and rage against their oppressors, reached the ears of every resident. The small community found itself embroiled in a fierce debate, its once-unified spirit fracturing into factions, each driven by fear and hope in equal measures.

Freya stood at the town square, her heart pounding as she watched the emotions swell among the few neighbour’s who were left. Some wanted to flee the land that had become inhospitable, pursuing tales of verdant soil beyond the dunes. Others, led by the fiery spirit of her childhood friend, Kai, spoke passionately about standing their ground and fighting for what was rightfully theirs.

“We cannot abandon our home!” Kai declared, his voice ringing clear and true, drawing a small of supporters. “The desert has given us strength. To leave now is to let fear dictate our choices.”

Freya’s heart ached as she battled with the rising tide of emotions. She caught Kai’s gaze, each of them understanding the weight of their unspoken connection, the tension simmering beneath their friendship. Deep down, Freya knew that her ambition to seek the Red Star might pull her away from everything she had ever known.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky crimson, Freya made a fateful decision. No matter which path her friend chose, she would embark on her quest. The thought that the Red Star might hold a solution for all of them filled her with purpose the hope she would find her parents and siblings as well as the rest of the towns folks, who also went searching for the Red Star in hope it would lead them to other towns. Freya looked away across the vast sand dunes and knew her heart ached at the rift forming between her and Kai.

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everyone-has-a-secret-whats-urs · 3 months ago

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I am answering this for Shadows Over Windspire it was suppose to be a trilogy that may turn into four books :

One word to describe your WIP:

Soul-searching

Two lines that are your favorite:

This is from Shadows Over Windspire book 1

1. The tall wild hair man paced back and forth, “I will not be a part of any of this, I can not” he shook his head this is treason, I want no part of this”

This is from Whispers Over Windspire book 2

2. Aurelia pushed forward united with her people as she threw her light shield forward towards Zander as he began to disintegrate , Zander looked at her and let out a screeching cry “Sister what did you do” as he disintegrated in to ash before her eyes”

I don’t have a playlist so leaving this one blank

Four feelings from/about your characters:

Hope, vengefulness, compassion,Courage

Five tropes featured:

Light vs: Dark

Enemies vs: Friends

Fear vs: courage

Right vs: wrong

Hate vs: Love

1 to 5 Tag

Thank you @faeriecinna for the tag, sorry I'm late with a reply!! Rules: Follow the prompts, change ‘em if you like, and answer in any way you choose. Bring on the lore drops!

I am answering this for Atlas as I just uploaded the new chapter!

One word to describe your WIP:

Unbroken

Two lines that are your favorite:

The first one is a preview from the next few chapters and the second one is from the most recent chapter.

1. "What," she began sarcastically. "you aren't going to ask me if I've got kids?" Yeah, that would show him. Definitely.

"You can't even get a girlfriend, you don't have kids." Aspen replied, grinning around his mouthful of jerky. Macie's mouth dropped open and the sound that came out wasn't even quite human.

2. "DOGGIE!!" CJ's head lifted quickly, his tail wagging and his mouth dropping open in a panting smile while his tongue lolled out to one side. Another fan, he could do this all day. A pity he couldn't sign his own autographs.

Three songs from your WIP/OC playlist: I don’t really have an OC playlist but I think Macie likes a mix of folk and pop/punk rock. CJ likes everything but has a special love of jazz.

Four feelings from/about your characters:

Growth, persistence, guilt, healing

Five tropes featured:

Hope in Grief

Found Family

Community

Government Collapse

Person vs Nature

Tagging the squad!

@aether-wasteland-s @seastarblue @the-golden-comet @agirlandherquill @fangedcinnamonroll @paranormalsaga @artmagicly @juliana-jones @aalinaaaaaa @auspex-author @whenwecantsleep @macabremaenad @avidreadersandemergingwriters @tinywater @faeriecinna @clairelsonao3 @meganprimrose22 @amaru2020 @philosophika @jacobmatthewstark @that-weird-kid-from-your-school @mauvelilywilliams @meerawrites @jessicagailwrites @wardenwyrd @chauceryfairytales @dreamworksfanatic @loartacc @ieppiq @aziz-reads @viridis-icithus @desconstruindoeu @redellena97 @tearzofgaia @bi-focal12

#tag game #writers on tumblr #all are welcome

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