'Tis the opening of the first chapter of my NaNo-novel, UnWritten. Just thought I'd post it since it's chugging along nicely. Even if it does, indeed, need a lot of editing. xD Enjoy.
I was young but no longer a child. The way I had spent the first twenty-eight years of my life could be adequately related to a comatose. I was reckless, nosy, pushy, and always had my way. It was a trait that made me more successful as a merchant than my father ever could be. I was proud of myself.
I spent every year traveling, buying and selling goods, and learning the market and the people it served. As a result, I befriended many. I have a list of people whom I would defend with my life and I like to believe they would do the same for me. This is only my explanation to solidify what I'm about to tell you. This way you will understand I am not a crazy fool and I didn't find the boy in a gutter someplace.
I was twenty-eight and I received a letter from a friend of ten years. His name was Rysorin, Head Aeteli of a kingdom north of Sharyndai. It was a dire situation, he needed to speak with me immediately, feared mentioning the subject in written form. Letters back then had no protection. I knew a good half-dozen men had shifted through the letter before it made its way to me. I packed my things and headed to the kingdom--known as Crystal Star in Etlian. Its true name is difficult for me to pronounce.
The place was beautiful, made of crystal, marble, and white stone structures. It was a winter-wonderland. The Aeteli lived in peace and I was half-frozen. You know how Aeteli can endure harsh weather better than others? I was reminded strongly as the ship docked and I descended the ramp. In the shipyard I met Rysorin. He was normally stoic and hard to understand—Aeteli are like that—and he took me to his home where a fire was built and hot-tea served to warm my blood.
“What is the point of this?” the elf asked dryly. He stood at the window of a small study. An old man sat opposite, in a cushioned chair. His balding head caught the final sun rays like a polished stone, what hair remained was white and thin, but long enough that it was tied back at the base of his neck.
“I'm getting there,” he said with a wave. “You asked for more information on the lad, didn't you? Well, have at it. Do you wish to sit? It may take a while.”
The elf remained standing, narrowed eyes glaring at him. Ignoring his impatience, the old man tutted and mumbled until he remembered where he left off.
“...Ah, that's where I was...Rysorin had a desperate request,” he continued. “He doesn't ever ask my favor, so I was willing to oblige. He explained a couple in the kingdom had given birth to a child. Children are rare for them, you know—”
“I know. I don't need you explaining every sticky trait of the bastards. Just tell me where he's at.” It was difficult for the elf to remain standing still. His hand lingered near a pistol on his hip. The old man wasn't fazed.
“If you say so,” he rubbed his chin. “He told me the child couldn't stay with them, so he asked if I could take him in. Since I needed an heir someday, I obliged. There is his origin.”
“That doesn't explain anything, old man—”
“Of course it doesn't. You don't want to know about the Aeteli,” he scoffed. “You'd understand if you let me tell you.” The elf scowled.
“Tell me where he is, Calidar. That is all I need to know.”
“You would have also understood that where ever Tal is, he's not on some restricted area, breaking laws. He's a good boy.”
The elf's eyes widened and he strode forth, slamming his hands on the desk, leaning near. “Are you telling me that you do not know where he is?”
“I told you that I do know where he is. But if you want to be specific, then ask a specific question.” Calidar looked steadily at him, a tilt in his head that suggested the elf do as he advised.
Irritated, the elf rolled his shoulders back, standing straight with a sure posture. “Tell me where exactly Talimyro is and I will not turn you in for not cooperating with the Kalir.” His hand reached for the pistol.
“He's at the library. He will arrive here in a couple hours' time.”
“Really?” the elf wanted a confession, Calidar sensed it since the officer arrived at his doorstep. “We have received multiple reports declaring your son was seen on private, restricted property.”
“Why are they reporting to the Kalir instead of telling him straight-up to get off, if he was there?” Calidar asked. “It seems to me that there is suspicion in place of sightings. How can you simply assume without real evidence?”
The Kalir officer remained still. For a moment, Calidar wondered if he would reach the end of his rope soon enough and pull out that weapon.