Sunday, November 29, 2009

NaNoWriMo excerpt

Oh no! All of the cliches in Happily Ever After Land are disappearing! This means witches are suddenly beautiful and good, frogs are no longer princes, and happily ever afters... are disappearing. Thyan Braveheart, a cliched prince who has diminished into a bumbling, awkward average teenager, is on a mission: to return everything back into the cliched way they were and most importantly, get himself back. But as he continues, he wonders if returning everything back to cliches is what is actually best...

*Note: A fair amount of tongue-in-cheek.

In a wonderful kingdom in a far away land called Happily Ever After Land, there lived a wise and gentle (and not to mention handsome!) king called King Lyon Everheart, who was the sole ruler of this land. He was a king beloved by all, and his decrees were just and impeccably accurate. Although his wife had died a few years into his kingship, he had a daughter, Meridian, who he loved more than life itself, and lavished upon her great gifts and presents to be envied by all of the kingdom’s ladies. She was as good looking as he, and together they were a father daughter pair which ruled the kingdom with dignity, justice, and gentleness.

In another kingdom a little further away from the kingdom far away, there lived a prince whose name was Thyan Braveheart. He was as brave as his name suggests, and had already surpassed all of history’s greatest heroes; for although heroes here and there might have saved one or two princesses, he had already saved his fiftieth princess, with many more to come, because he was still a young man with years in front of him. He was fearless and smart and had little problem defeating the greatest of giants and dragons and monsters. With his faithful sidekick Gil, he conquered the east and west and all of the land surrounding his father’s kingdom, building and expanding its domain.

Occasionally, Thyan visited King Lyon and his daughter Meridian in between his conquests because his father and Lyon had been great friends and classmates in the Hero’s Academy, the central and necessary school for every aspiring hero. As Thyan and Meridian were of the same age and mind, they grew closer and closer until there was very little doubt that they would marry some day.

Here in the world of bright summer days and easily obtainable success, they lived happily—but not happily ever after, because their story was far from over.


“Help me! Oh, someone, help me!” The cries of the captive princess echoed harshly against the dungeon walls, and the huge dragon cackled at its prisoner’s screams.

“It’s useless,” it told her. “No one can save you now!”

The dragon opened up its mouth, wider and wider, to engulf the hysterical, kicking, struggling princess. “Princesses always taste the best,” it cackled.

“Stop right there!”

“Who—what?” The dragon stopped in the midst of its eating and turned. “No way!” it gasped. “No one should have been able to get into my cave! I made sure of it!”

Thyan grinned and tossed his ever shiny blond hair, like a model. “No dragon can prevent me, Thyan Braveheart, from rescuing a princess in peril! I will stop you!” He rushed towards the dragon, sword unsheathed, and gave a hearty battle cry worthy of a Grammy. “I’ve come to save the day!”

The dragon breathed in deeply, preparing to incinerate the prince into ashes, and the princess screamed. “My prince!”

“Gil, now!” Thyan ordered, and the huge, muscular Gil came down from a hole in the roof of the cave and landed on the dragon’s head.

“I got ‘im, sir!” Gil shouted, but it was an early triumph, and one hastily made.

The dragon tossed and turned, trying to fling the boy off, and finally managed to fling Gil straight across the cave—but in the meantime, Thyan, with his great sword, The Hero’s Sword, hacked and struck at the fearsome dragon’s neck.

“Oh, why did I ever steal a princess?” moaned the dragon as it collapsed onto the ground and loosened its grip on the princess.

“My hero!” exclaimed the princess, who flew upon Thyan and hugged him and kissed him gratefully.

“Yur sure the best hero in all the land! No one can stand up t’ya!” exclaimed Gil, rubbing his own wounds and staring at his master admiringly.

Thyan laughed, and the three exited the cave. All in another day’s work for Prince Thyan Braveheart, the hero of Happily Ever After Land.

- - - -

Gil heard his lord’s scream from down the hall, where his bedroom was conveniently positioned in the case of an emergency. This could hardly count as an emergency, but neither did getting Thyan a cup of tea in the night, giving him a backrub in the morning, or getting a plate of mid night snacks for him.

“What now?” Gil muttered, and rolled over in his bed. He listened to the scream for a couple of more moments, suffering in agony over the sound. But he realized that Thyan was not the one to solve his own problems and, giving a disgusted sigh, he rose and walked down the hall to his master’s room.

“Sir?” he asked, pushing open the door.

His first thought was Woah, Thyan sure got a makeover. “Hey, Thyan!”

Thyan stopped screaming and turned to him, nearly in tears. “Gil!” he cried, and launched himself at the giant, who caught him awkwardly and tried to push him off himself.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Look at me!” Thyan gestured to his face.

Gil looked at his face. It was strangely normal, he thought. Thyan’s blond hair stuck up in every direction unlike the perfectly brushed it always was. His face was pale and wait a minute, was there—acne on his face? His eyes were still their sapphire blue, but not as bright as Gil remembered—but maybe that was because of the redness from all of the crying.

“You look ridiculous,” Gil said finally, and meant it.

“I know!” Thyan cried. “My face is pathetic! It’s un—un handsome! It’s horrid! I hate it! This is horrible!”

“You know, it’s your own face,” Gil said.

Thyan burst out crying.

Feeling that he was with a complete idiot, Gil gave a weak attempt at consolation. “It’s... it’s not that bad.”

“Yes it is!”

“No it isn’t. Just look at yourself!”

“I already did!”

Gil steered Thyan over to his huge mirror and they stared at the two figures there: a tall, dark haired boy and a somewhat lanky blond boy with swollen eyes and tears.
Gil turned Thyan back. “Nevermind.”

“You see? You see?” Thyan asked hysterically. “I’m—I’m ugly!” After hearing it from his own mouth and the realization of it all, Thyan wordlessly collapsed onto his bed with an arm over his eyes. “Just leave me. I’ll die in my bed, ugly and pathetic.”

Gil stared at him. “You are pathetic,” he observed. “But I can’t have you like that forever. Come on,” he said, and pulled at his master’s arm.

A muffled refusal came from the bedcovers.

“Come on. You’re being childish.”

“I don’t care.”

Groaning, Gil dragged Thyan off of his bed and onto the floor. “Get up.”


“Okay, you’re getting up.” Hoisting Thyan up, Gil set his master none too carefully onto a nearby chair.

Thyan was still hiding his tear stained face. “Don’t look at me!”

“I’m not,” Gil said, looking at him.

Looking up slightly, Thyan glared accusingly at him. “You are.”

Gil looked away. “Am not.”

“You were.”

“I was not.”

Thyan stared at the mirror and his frail, shivering form. “I hate it!” he cried, and threw a nearby hand mirror at the mirror.

It hit the mirror and bounced off harmlessly.

“What is wrong with me?” He stared at his hands.

“Come on, Thyan,” Gil said, and pulled him to his feet, which thankfully, he stayed on.

“What are you doing? H-hey, stop! Let go of me, you jerk!” Thyan tried to retrieve his arm from Gil’s steel like grip, but it was in vain.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but let’s take you to someone who does know.”

Thyan hesitated. “Kirina the fairy?” he asked.


He stared at Gil, and then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Hey! How come you’re suddenly thinking?” Thyan demanded.

“I don’t know, I just did,” Gil said, “and I can’t believe I didn’t start sooner.”

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