Harmonious_Echos

I AM DOIN AN EXCITE EEE EEEEE *deep breath* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE My serial web-novel "Awakening, Quickening" has been rated 132nd of 3,600 epic fantasy books on Wattpad, and has over 1K views on Inkstone!! And I just got this email: (panicpanicpanicpanicpanicccc) Congrats! Novel Recommended on <Fresh Stories> Your hard work has paid off! Your book <Awakening, Quickening> will be recommended on <Fresh Stories> on <2024.04.02>. Please keep writing, your book has the opportunity to get contracted!

As I've never done any film editing, I can't say as I'd know how to do such things... **chases Muse away from the Spaghetti Westerns** Not food! Not! Food! Shoo!

I imagine they're somewhat used to you by now... And I think the idea of "the hole" is a decent one, seeing as the Glup would need to get out of it, in order to rejoin the general process of re-absorption and re-hydration? Being in a hole could possibly prevent that particular Glup from ever absorbing or being absorbed by another... what if you made it a sinkhole? With a cave, and a small stream of goo-ish water which Naggal must be pushed through/ float down, in order to regain the surface and rejoin the rest? That sounds much more epic-ish; especially for a creature which cannot move far and has very few experiences to relate to, when it comes to a cave or a stream. And sinkholes happen by very gradual processes so it's entirely possible, even on a planet that has pretty much nothing except a little moisture, and dust/rock...

*spins in response to Juju* Ah! Yes, there is a linky---riiiight----here. https://www.wattpad.com/story/364212289-awakening-quickening I also have the SAME exact story posted the SAME exact way, on Inkstone.com as a serialized webnovel, under the title "Awakening, Quickening". It's easy to tell because duh, same author, same front cover page. Glad for any input, or sharing, and feel free to holler at me if you catch any glaring inconsistencies or oopses I need to correct.

Hmmmm.....I see the dilemma. I think in order to have any sort of heroic-ness, there must be CHANGE introduced; at the very least, a new type of rock, or something that becomes valuable to them, in some sort of way; some type of villain; and then the brave Naggal can rise above to his "heroic glupness". Because heroes are, by their very nature, unique and different in some way, and in order to be unique there must be change, and stressors of some kind. I would probably make the change something particularly banal, like a chemical reaction to a certain thermal vent which opened on the planet's surface, bringing to light a new gas or liquid that the Glups had never encountered before. The villain I would make the largest of the Glups, a certain Glupulous Glotton, who was known to have excised smaller Glups of themselves when those parts became too hydrated, and then wait until they became powder before intentionally reabsorbing them; thus preventing Glupself from becoming over-hydrated and falling apart, or over-dry and becoming powdered. In this way the Glupulous has developed a knack for avoiding the death that most Glups take for granted, and has grown a particularly odd emotion for a Glup--the wish to prevent death. This unusual wish of this particular Glup makes them develop another rare trait--cruelty. Meanwhile our hero, Naggal the Glup, is an unsuspecting Glup birthed, shall we say, of the Glupulous, is unknowing that they, Naggal, are intended to be reabsorbed without the proper death first--causing pain, and cruelty. Naggal witnesses this cruelty to other Glups, and rises above thier Glupness to make the heroic attempt to escape, and grow into Gluphood on thier own. Naggal does not succeed in escaping (being, after all, very slow) but they do succeed in absorbing a lot of water, unknown to the Giant. And when they are absorbed by the Glupulous (with pain and suffering), the excess water they absorbed takes immediate effect by destabilizing the delicate balance of the giant Glup's innards. Almost immediately, a new generation of smaller Glups are born, the Glupulous is gone, and there remains no more Glups who fear death. The End 😆

I have written over 100 pages of this now!! I often lose my focus and stamina around now so send me your good writer energies to keep me going... over the 100-page hill I go... *muse transforms into a hairy caterpillar the size of a Dalmatian and begins scooching around the room**

Not really a fan of horror myself, but if I meet any fans of the genre I'll pass this along!

Doesn't counseling REQUIRE gross amounts of money though? Easier (and cheaper) to just stare at a brick wall & watch it crumble... not like we can do anything about the situation anyway 😔And that's the real horror... Money requires money requires money. Sure would be nice if living INSIDE a budget wasn't an actual fantasy. Sigh... **Goes to watch bricks crumble

Referring to my family's littles as oompa-loompas has its drawbacks... seeing as Harmony is only 5 foot 2... A large majority of younger folks are already taller than I am 😅 There are benefits to being called one, though. I then feel legally obligated to repossess all the chocolate..

Reaching the high stone wall which housed the forge again, Harmony and Muse sat down by the steps to the tunnel that led inside, and rested for a few minutes. It was warm and Kyir was a little fussy; he had woken up from a nice long nap and wanted his lunch. Harmony sat in the shade of the wall and leaned against it to nurse, looking around. “Muse, why don’t you explore for a minute? I’ll be all right here.” And you can send me anything that looks interesting. Muse smiled. “Of course, My Lady.” she said and curtsied like a proper servant. Her smile was anything but proper, though. Can’t wait. Do I get to look around the forge? Harmony nodded slightly. Just be careful, Muse. Be small and don’t cause trouble. Muse rolled her eyes. Obviously… She walked quickly and quietly off, radiating happiness at being allowed to explore, transform, and possibly, get into some mischief. Harmony didn’t know if it had really been a good idea to allow her to go alone; but, she also really didn’t want to walk back into a deep, dark place just yet. Just the thought of being in a cave-like place made her shiver. She still didn’t know how to feel about her experience in the mountain, or the memories she’d dreamt of–, or that awful feeling of quiet, dark, same, nothingness. Granted, the forge didn’t seem all that quiet. The regular clang-clang-clang of hammer and anvil sounded regularly for what seemed like hours. It was just faint enough to seem musical, rather than irritatingly loud; It must be deep underground, Harmony thought. Or behind a few doors. Kyir struggled and kicked at her, as he nursed, and Harmony awkwardly changed position; this was harder than she’d thought, to sit on the ground and nurse. She was used to sitting in the padded seat Agatha had arranged for her. Finally, she crossed her legs and lifted them a little, and leaned forward, resting Kyir on her lap. Still, she couldn’t help but marvel at him; this tiny thing with tiny hands, tiny feet…every time she looked at him, he seemed new again, somehow. He was so lovely, in such a strange way! She stroked his soft cheek and fuzzy downy head with her hand, taking in every inch of him. His face was not so new, now, and had filled out a little more; during the days they’d been in Grebefal, they had both had time to rest and settle in a little, and he looked more like the babies she’d seen in other families, now. As she looked at Kyir, he looked back; his dark eyes wandered and then settled on her own. Harmony felt a twinge of a mental bond; he was trying to reach her telepathically! She pictured a warm blanket and a softly crackling fire, holding the image; Kyir held her gaze and mirrored the mental image back to her. It was unsteady and rough, and only for a moment; but Kyir was only a few weeks old. “OH!! Little one…you’re going to be someone special, you are!!” Harmony whispered to him, thoroughly astonished. She paused as a flashed mental image came from Muse. A huge, dark room with a massive roaring maw of fire at one end; A giant dark shadow–no, a person, working in front of the firelight–bright flashing sparks thrown under his hammer as he swung it down again and again. A second shadow pouring buckets of water into a long trough, in which the first person submerged a shining red blade of metal. It felt surreal, a painting in red and black, white and yellow, sharp edged, hot and bright. Harmony shuttered her mind from Kyir carefully, not wanting to upset him. How do they keep it so hot? Where does the fuel come from? she wondered to Muse; I don’t know, came Muse’s soft answer. I haven’t seen them feed the fire–if that’s even what it is. Another flash–an image of a wall of fire inside the maw of the furnace, white-hot and appearing to fall down into itself, pouring inward without ceasing. They collect bits of that white fire to make the blades, so I think that’s metal in there. Harmony gave a mental shrug. I don’t know much about forges, or metal, or fire. But it looks pretty interesting, I guess. Muse agreed. Oh! I think I figured out where the real fire is! A flash of stone steps, lit by red fire-light, under a heavy wrought iron grate in the floor…. then, a whoops, I think someone almost saw me… better go! Harmony frowned. Muse! You had better not be transforming in front of people! Kyir finished nursing and gurgled contentedly on Harmony’s lap, a picture of contentment; out here, it was all sunshine and soft breezes and shady fruit trees. Harmony started as someone tapped her on the shoulder. She quickly covered herself and turned, to see Neil regarding her. “See yer back” He looked her up and down. “Why here? Why’re ye not at the inn?” Harmony produced the page and handed it to him. His expression cleared as he saw it. “Oh…Ah see. Yer here ‘bout the wall house.” Neil glanced around. “Where’s yer lil helper?” Muse, be careful–Neil is here, thought Harmony. She needn’t have worried, though; Muse-the-elf stepped primly from behind the nearest tree with a fistful of local wildflowers and offered them to Harmony. “Here you are, My Lady. Are these to your liking?” Harmony nodded as if she’d requested to see the flowers. “Yes, thank you Muse, those are wonderful. I’d like to look at them more later–can you keep them for now? I’ll need to hold Kyir while we look at the residence, he isn’t ready for his wrap yet”. Kyir, like a proper little actor, blinked sleepily. Neil waved them through the tunnel and to the inside-side, facing the castle; there was, in fact, one tree here, right next to the wall and covered with ivy. a little ways past that tree, set into the wall, was a plain front-step and a heavy iron-and-wood door. Muse looked intensely curious, and Harmony shot her a warning look. They entered the wooden door into a very large, plain, rectangular stone room; at one side, a tall, wide fireplace with seats built into the walls on either side, so a person could sit while cooking. On the other side of the room, stairs led upwards; no lights were lit, but Neil found a candle stump and lit it. He carried it to the stairs, talking as they went. “Th’ whole place is empty, only one in Grebefal as is. Nowt wants t’ live here. They all say it’s too creepy. Can’t say as I blame ‘em, but there ain’t nothin’ wrong with it really, it’s just a bit dark an’ a bit lonesome. Theres three floors all together–this big room here, a middle floor wi’ two rooms, and a top floor wi’ another two. Oh, an’ th’ steps to the upper wall, up top. I like to go walkin’ there, times. It’s a good view.” Neil lapsed into an awkward silence after this long speech. They climbed the stairs and Harmony and Muse took in the dark rooms, stone walls and floors, with spiderwebs and straw in the corners. Harmony repressed a deep shudder at the sight of dirt and dust layered on the floor; it reminded her too much of the mountain tomb. Still, looking around, she knew this was the best place they could have been offered. It was close to the center of the condensed mana, the castle; it was in good repair, outside of the dust; had lots of room; and best of all, it was unliked–a place that the other town folk would be less likely to drop by at a moment’s notice, and would be unlikely to want to move in. Harmony didn’t want anyone walking in on some complex spell and ruining it, again. Muse was looking cheerful too. “My Lady, may I walk around?” Harmony nodded. “Here, give me the candle a moment.” She took the candle and encircled it with mana, and set it down on the step, then took it away again–this time, leaving behind a perfect image of the candle. She handed the candle back to Muse, who bounded up the steps with the candle, and could be heard up there, shuffling around, moving things to the sides and opening doors, exploring. Harmony “picked up” the candle-image by drawing it into her hand; it gave off light just like the original, which danced and flickered, but this one could not be blown out by a breeze. “There. Now we have a light also.” Neil looked like he couldn't believe what he had just seen. He gaped at Harmony, eyes round. Harmony offered him the candle-image. She kept a string of mana threaded to it, to keep it lit. He stared at it like it might bite him. “How’d ye do that?” Harmony shrugged. “I had learned to do this on one of my first lessons, at my magic school. It’s called a magelight. It’s not an actual light, just an image of one, but it works much the same way.” She held it high and took her time looking around; on this floor there were several large bare cupboards, an old dresser, a three legged table, and a few wooden chairs tumbled in a pile, in one room; a large wooden bedstead and chest, wide open from Muse’s explorations, but empty, stood in another room. No linens or any food, and a rather strong smell of mice. The third floor was no different–a few bits of old furniture piled here and there, a few pulled-apart mouse nests. One room did have a single window, shuttered with heavy wood shutters. Finally, Harmony motioned to the steps. “This place looks good, and I like it–but we should go back to the inn for now; all of our things are there, and I think it may be getting late already.” Neil tore his gaze away from the candle-image and nodded. “yeh. Best be gettin’ back. Ye can let me know in the mornin’ if ye decide this is the place for ye.”

Gently, gently as the shadows grow softly, now the snow is falling; Calmly, calmly, whispers in my ear Hold my spirit here, til dawning. As I sigh, now, kindred spirits fly by my window, high-- bright! visible outside--but, never one within-- I could try, to rearrange my mind, never once to find-- life, for which I pine--ah! Resigned to never win. Closer, closer, as the shadows creep following my sleep and waking; Weary, seeking, I will hope for peace even when my heart is breaking. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Next line: Who's the most inspiring frog? 🤣

Loving the new background.... rat and frog, hmmmm. 🤣😂 what EVER could it BE REFERRING TO I wonder?

I am writing it as a serialized web novel on Inkstone. Feel free to check it out if you like! It's staged to publish chapters, pretty close to the size of the content I posted here, to give me time to come up with new stuff (since we all know how bad I am at continuing things.... 🤣)

Just a note; I am editing and writing this off this forum now, so the story has changed a bit... and I'll probably stop posting it here, eventually, as i continue writing it elsewhere. Still checking in from time to time though. ❤️

Harmony & Muse are both grateful our friend is OK....and are roaring with laughter too hard to speak... so I'll write for them. *wishes to provide soups, but soups are not forthcoming* Families are like that! Funny and uplifting in the driest of ways. 🤣😂 I can definitely say with all fairness that mine would behave the same; even my middle brother, who is a certifiable lizard-person, or my youngest sibling who is a squid. True story. ...Those things aside, I almost feel like this story reflects the Pen in how the people in it, come in and, at first, interact, then leave while you're requesting more... I vote that "Soup" shall now and forevermore be the motto of the Pennites Who Know. *Sings with accompanying banjo* 🎶Toss some soup to your Snypiuer, Oh Soup to your Snypiuer.... Come, Pennites aplenty.... Oh Pennites aplenty...ohh...🎶 ('Cause I can't, I'm about as wealthy as a hedgehog in a ditch. Unfortunately.) And also have no Soup. Soup.....