A block of writing reading:
“Yes... Of course.” Percival paused at the towering exterior doors. Illustrious as were all things within the palace, the dark wood finish was bold against the white stone walls. Carved into them was the family crest. A silver crown made of ice sat boldly atop a kingdom which stood above the world, as if the earth itself had lifted it on a pedestal. It was odd, Lyric had always thought, the pillar always looked too jagged and off-center to be useful, but his family had used it, according to his tutors, since the Crestwilling Kingdom had been established. His eyes traced the odd gold inlays of the symbols around his kingdom, stupid things lost to some thousands of years of change, and yet upheld for no spirits' known reason. The crest split down its center, revealing the sprawling back terrace yard. A gathering of black and crimson-robed figures all bowed to him, minus the two who stood at the front, waiting for Lyric at the memory stone.
A block of text reading:
Lynette looked just as Lyric remembered their mother had, long auburn hair with neat ringlet curls that framed her face. Her powerless brown eyes matched that hair, warm with compassion and patience, set in a soft face that had never known a frown or a smile. She was a living painting, one in which an artist would dedicate their life to and jealously guard. She’d grown up far too soon; even if she was only 19, she held herself as if she were their mother. Her eyes were set on Letta, who hugged her arm tightly. The poor dear, she was hardly ten now. She’d never had the chance to know the woman whom Lynette embodied. For nine years, the girl had been Letta’s only mother, while their father hardly gave her a glance. Her dirty blond hair was tied up in a bun, messy and picked at by her own restless fingers. Her eyes, too, were powerless brown, so deep in color that made them seem black. Her mind, though, how Lyric wished his father had seen Letta for the genius she was. She’d drawn up a ship just that last year, in which his navy now worked to make reality. The fastest sailing ship to date would be headed by the Crestwilling kingdom in no time.
Was in a writing group yesterday and someone said that they really liked this exposition dump, despite it being at draft 0 and written during a 15-minute writing sprint
I think I'll start sharing little snippets again from my story. That was really motivating.
#story #writing #writer
