Inktober2021 Writing Challenge

This year, I am participating in a drawing challenge with an informal group of friends. The last time I did this, I gave myself an additional task: to write a 200 word flash fiction story to go with each prompt.

Here is the link to that 2018 challenge:

For 2021, I needed a central theme to keep me motivated. I also need to spend time planning the backstory for a character in the Phoena’s Quest trilogy. Therefore, I am combining both tasks. For the following stories, I have taken Lady Ennallya back to her childhood, and I am enjoying her developing story. If the words keep flowing, I’m hoping that this might be the basis of a novella in 2022.

Six-year-old Ennallya glanced towards the cavern entrance.

Her seven elder brothers had spent weeks planning this expedition. The last-minute inclusion of a “snivelling girl” would not keep them from exploring the mine.

“Light,” Crown Prince Jerome said.

Her skin prickled as his magic activated. The air momentarily shimmered before darkness returned.

“We should have brought a torch,” someone complained.

Jerome tried again. “Light!”

Ennallya whispered, “Please work…”

Whoosh! A ball of silver light appeared above Jerome.

“This way,” Jerome shouted, selecting a side tunnel. Everyone followed.

Ennallya couldn’t keep up, and darkness claimed her. Tripping over a pile of stones, she muttered, “I don’t like the dark.”

The loose rocks began to glow beneath her.

“Princess?”

“Eek!” Leaping upright, she grabbed a rock. Energy raced up her arm, revealing the stone’s magical crystalline properties.

“Princess?” A palace guard stepped from the shadows.

The light began to fade after she hid the crystal in her pocket. “My brother told you to wait outside.”

“The Queen forbade me to let you leave my sight.” He handed her a leather satchel. “Your brothers will claim the crystals, but your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell them you used magic to find them.”

As soon as Ennallya’s maids left the library, she jumped up and rearranged the cushions to create a sleeping form beneath the quilt. She escaped through a window, careful not to leave footprints in the garden. She made it to the armoury without detection, sidling through the door to hide behind the water barrels. Her small stature was advantageous today.

“Move over.”A slim figure pressed into the space beside her.

Ennallya gasped. It was the same guard from the mine. She still didn’t know his name. “You!”

“Of course, it’s me.” He raised an eyebrow. “What magical adventures await us today?”

“No magic,” she said. “I came to see the dragons.”

His eyes widened.

Ennallya sighed. “Another of my brothers’ exaggerations.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the open. “Come with me. If anyone asks, you’re here to admire my new suit of armour.”

They had only taken a few steps before a huge man hurried to meet them. He spared the princess nothing but a glance before addressing her companion. “Zem, perfect timing. Your armour is ready.”

The armourer led them towards a plain suit of armour. The only decoration was a dragon on the chest plate.

“Why do I have to dress up?” Ennallya asked. “Nobody ever wants to talk to me, and as soon as the introductions are over, you’re going to whisk me away.”

“The Queen wants you to wear your best dress when you meet her relatives,” her maid said.

Thirty minutes later, Ennallya stood beside her seven brothers at the end of the receiving line. The huge sailing ship eased into the harbour. The vessel had two masts, and the crew expertly furled the sails. The foreign dignitaries assembled in their finery along the deck. When thick ropes secured the ship to the wharf, a gangplank fell into place. A trumpet sounded, but before anyone came off the ship, a familiar figure dashed from the wharf and ran aboard. Zem again!

The young guard dropped to his knee before the guests. Ennallya’s eyes widened. The King and Queen of Westerlargo pulled him to his feet, and now they were embracing him.

Trinthius, Ennallya’s youngest brother, snorted. “Now that his parents are here, there’ll be no more pretending he’s a palace guard.”

“He’s not one of the guards?” Ennallya asked.

“No,” Trinthius said. “He’s Crown Prince Zember, heir to the Dragon Throne.”

Her teacup was empty, and Ennallya’s brothers had stolen her cupcakes. If this was a typical reception, she didn’t want to attend another one. She perched on the oversized armchair, swinging her legs above the polished floor. Her hand slipped into her pocket.

“Planning your escape, Princess?”

Blinking up into Zem’s familiar face, Ennallya released the hidden crystal and withdrew her hand. She practised her ‘perfect princess’ smile, glancing across the room for her mother’s approval. “Of course not, Prince Zember. I’m honoured to be here.”

He laughed before dropping onto the cushion beside her. “Shove over. You’re too little to have this chair to yourself.”

She bit her lip, stung by his choice of words.

“Your mother challenged me to solve this puzzle,” Zem said, throwing a tangled cord into her lap.

Ennallya examined the rope, counting seven strands emerging from a complicated central knot.

“What’s this?” her brother Trinthius asked, snatching it from her.

When she looked up, her seven brothers encircled the armchair, glaring at Zem as if he was a stranger.

“One of Mother’s riddles.”

“It’s easy,” Jerome said. “There are seven of us, securing the kingdom.”

“The knot is securing the kingdom,” Zem said.

Tap, tap, tap.

Ennallya looked up from her needlework. A large black bird stared at her through the parlour window, a feather in its beak. The oversized forest raven pecked the glass again.

“You may go now,” Mother said, snatching the fabric from Ennallya’s hands.

Ennallya hesitated, puzzled by the eagerness to have her gone. She glanced at the other noblewomen in the room, and nobody would meet her eye. The raven pecked again, and her mother impatiently waved her hand. The princess frowned at the window before skipping out into the corridor.

After closing the door behind her, the four guards acted as if she was invisible. Ennallya stood in the passageway, her maids nowhere in sight. She dashed downstairs to the library, and after determining it was empty, she escaped into the garden. When she craned her neck towards the parlour window, she swallowed her disappointment. The raven had gone.

“Were you looking for me?” The Westerlargo King appeared beside her, dressed in black from head to toe. He handed her a long black feather. “Another riddle for you to solve.”

Her fingers tingled as she twirled the feather. “Magic.” She closed her eyes and daydreamed about flying.

Nine junior royals seated at a circular table designed for eight was not how Ennallya envisaged her first formal banquet. Wedged between Trinthius and the Westerlargo Crown Prince, she yawned.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Trinthius hissed, elbowing her. “If you get sent to bed, the rest of us will have to go too.”

Ennallya almost lost her balance. Zem saved her from an embarrassing fall by catching her with his shoulder. She remembered Jerome’s warning that she –and his younger brothers– had better be on their best behaviour.

“Thanks,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Not long now,” Zem said. “Only two more courses.”

“Where’s your party spirit?” Aramond asked. “Hey, Jerome. Why don’t you entertain the “little ones” with some magic?”

“Something small,” Jerome said, snapping his fingers. A tiny glowing orb appeared and performed a quick spiral above the table before fading.

Ennallya giggled.

“The princess liked my trick?” Jerome asked, creating another orb and tossing it towards her. Instead of fading, it grew larger and brighter. She covered her face with her hands. Cries of alarm erupted around the table, followed by a loud bang. The shower of sparks continued to fall around them for the next ten minutes.

“My head can’t remember anymore,” Ennallya said, slumping in her chair.

Lady Marrilianna slapped Ennallya’s knuckles with her closed fan. “Pay attention!”

“What did you do that for?” Ennallya wailed, rubbing an imaginary mark on her fingers.

The noblewoman tapped the princess on the hand again. “This means ‘Pay attention!’”

“Oh!”

“It’s almost time to go to the throne room,” Lady Marrilianna said. “Let’s see what you can remember.” Her mother’s lady-in-waiting waved her fan, repeating the phrase each movement represented.

Too soon, a guard knocked on the door. Ennallya clung to Lady Marrilianna’s hand all the way to the throne room.

“Don’t forget you’re a princess,” her companion said, tapping her shoulder with the fan before joining the assembled spectators.

Everyone was staring at Ennallya. She held her head high and walked towards her brothers. They were lined up in order before Father’s throne, standing at attention. Trinthius nodded as she took her place beside him. Ennallya glanced at the King’s unsmiling face. He was wearing his crown and robes. Mother sat beside him, gently fluttering her fan. Ennallya’s eyes widened in recognition. The fan was sending a repeated message: Fear not. Have faith. Speak truth. I love you.

Ennallya shuffled her feet. The speaker, Lord Larkspree, used too many tricky words. He called himself “the Keeper of the Watch”. She puzzled over this title while studying the man. He was bald, with pointy ears, bushy eyebrows and a long white beard. He must be important. Ennallya’s brothers were pretending to be statues. The courtiers in the throne room were also still. Nobody wriggled. Not even a whisper passed among them. From a platform beside the King and Queen, the visiting Westerlargo nobility were motionless spectators.

Zem stood among them.

Finally, the talking stopped. When “the Keeper” banged his long staff against the floor, a servant appeared with a chair. From this seat, Lord Larkspree’s beady eyes watched the royal children. His eyebrows rose when he noticed Ennallya watching him.

Father’s kingly voice shattered the silence. “Princes of Nerthavreil, does the Crown Prince speak for you?”

Ennallya frowned. She wasn’t a prince.

Her mother’s fan said, “Shh.”

In unison, her brothers said, “Aye.”

“Crown Prince Jerome, please respond to the Keeper of the Watch.”

Jerome stepped forward and bowed. “Your Majesty, my brothers and I cannot account for the incidental magic at the banquet.”

Ah! The Keeper watched magic!

A shiver ran through Ennallya from her head to her toes. Her brothers had given their answer and the Keeper of the Watch was not satisfied. He rose to his feet and paced before the throne. Everyone waited. When he finally stopped, he ran his eyes along the line until he was staring directly at her. He spun around and faced the King.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Larkspree said. “The conclusive solution to this conundrum is to conduct an aptitude test on each of your children.”

“Doesn’t a candidate need to attain a certain age before the test?” Father asked.

“A talent sufficient for last evening’s incident will be detectable.”

The only words Ennallya understood were “talent” and “test”. Trinthius stiffened beside her, and one of her other brothers muttered a forbidden word. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to cry.

“Permission to speak, Your Majesty.”

Ennallya’s eyes flew open. Zem had left the safety of his family and was bowing before Father’s throne.

“Permission granted, Crown Prince Zember. You have something to contribute to this investigation?”

“If your children must endure the pressure of a public test then I ask to be included. I was there during the incident.”

“I don’t understand,” Ennallya whispered. She and the other “candidates” were huddled in an anteroom. Refreshments had been provided but nobody was eating or drinking. “If this test confirms whether you have magic and what kind, why don’t you want to take it?”

“You explain it to her,” Jerome said to Zem.

“Before you take the test, you can enjoy your favourite activities,” Zem said. “After the test, other people pick how you spend your time.”

“Jerome lost last year’s archery tournament because he couldn’t practice,” Trinthius said.

“It’s not fair,” Idrurth said. “Talent takes time to develop. I had three years left, and failing now robs me of my dreams.”

“Can’t you be tested again?” Ennallya asked.

“Why risk having what little talent you had at fourteen downgraded,” Jerome said.

“Does that happen?” Ennallya chewed her lip as she waited for the answer.

Jerome looked at her. “Hey, don’t worry.” He forced a smile and patted her head. “You’re little. Your test results won’t count.” He turned towards the door. I’ll go and see if they’re ready for us yet.”

After Jerome left, Aramond spoke. “He’s worried. After two years of training, he’s still struggling with the easier tricks.”

Once again, the junior royals lined up in the throne room. Ennallya scanned the expanded crowd for familiar faces. A nurserymaid pushed forward, and the six-year-old ran into the servant’s arms.

“I found your teddy hidden under your pillow, sweetheart,” the maid said. “I pray it brings you luck.”

Ennallya hugged the toy.

“What do you have there?” Trinthius asked when his sister returned to her place.

“My lucky teddy.” Ennallya passed it to him.

He examined it. “The squeaker is broken.”

She smiled. “That’s why it’s lucky.” It had taken her a long time to unpick the stitching and replace the faulty squeaker with her magic crystal.

Before Trinthius could return the toy, a trumpet sounded. The Keeper of the Watch entered through a side door, wearing long robes and a turban. A line of uniformed officers followed. A table arrived in front of each candidate, and then a covered basket appeared on every table.

“There are four rounds, one per Elemental Gift,” announced a herald. “The first Earth task is an elimination challenge. To advance, a candidate must find three sour citruses hidden among the magically altered fruit in their basket. An incorrect selection terminates the task.”

Standing on tiptoe, Ennallya reached for the basket. It was too high.

“Can I have something to stand on?” she asked the official appointed to watch her.

“No help is permitted.” The Watcher’s left eyebrow twitched. “You must solve this problem alone, little Princess.”

Ennallya kicked her table and it moved.

“Ha!” She launched herself forward. The table toppled sideways, barely missing the Watcher. The basket bounced, sending iridescent spheres across the floor.

“Nobody help her!” shouted the Keeper from his chair. The spheres stilled when he waved his hand.

Ennallya grabbed the closest ball, admiring the changing colours, before wrinkling her nose at the disgusting smell. It was hard and smooth.

“You’re only pretending,” she told it. “You’re an apple.” The sphere went into her basket. She skipped around the room, filling her basket. The fifth sphere she presented to her Watcher. “Lemon!”

It transformed in his hand. The twelfth sphere became a grapefruit.

The game continued until there were no more spheres. She frowned and bobbed down. Where was the last one?

“There it is!” Ennallya threw herself under the Keeper’s chair. “Naughty lime!” She tried to wriggle back out. “Hey, Watcher. Come and get it. I’m stuck.”

Someone was coming. Ennallya could hear their stealthy footsteps approaching across the shingles. She pulled herself even further into the narrow space between the two chimneys and held her breath.

The intruder stopped, and from the noise, she guessed he had sat down on the other side of the chimney.

“You picked a good hiding place,” Zem said. “Nobody thought to look for you up here.”

She remained silent and still.

“The view from here is great,” he said. “I’d like to stay and watch the sunset, but your brothers have spent hours searching for you. They’re sorry they teased you. If you don’t come down, they’ll confess everything to  your parents and sound the alarm.”

His words drifted on the afternoon breeze. Ennallya put her hands over her ears.

“I’ve brought some of your favourite cupcakes, but you’re not here, so I’ll have to eat them. M-mm-mmm. This one has chocolate icing. Delicious!”

Her stomach rumbled. “How did you find me?”

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” Zem said. “How did you get here?”

“I hid in the western tower. I must have fallen asleep because I dreamed I was flying. I woke up on the roof.”

The secret panel opened. Ennallya followed Zem from the tunnel into a spacious room lined with shelves. Her brothers were arguing in an adjoining room. Her guide pushed the door open, and she peered into the princes’ private sanctuary. It was many times larger than her nursery.

“Did you checked the library?” Jerome asked.

“Three times,” Aramond muttered, snatching a piece of paper from his elder brother’s hand. “Look at your list. Tick. Tick. Tick.” He threw the list to the floor and stomped on it. Jerome retrieved the paper and turned towards the other brothers.

“Before you ask,” said Trinthius. “Remath and I revisited the nursery. Here’s Ennallya’s quilt and pillow. The nursery maid asked why “her sweetheart” was taking her afternoon nap in our sitting room.”

“What about the library?” Jerome asked.

The other princes groaned.

“Stop delaying the inevitable,” Idrurth said. “You have to tell Father.”

“Seek out Mother, instead,” Aramond said. “She’ll believe Jerome if he says we’ve lost her ‘precious little princess’ during a game of hide’n’seek.”

“I’ll tell the truth and face the consequences,” Jerome said. “I shouldn’t have belittled Ennallya’s success.” “You’re not the one who accused a six-year-old of cheating,” Idrurth said.

Brushing the crumbs from her lap, Ennallya declined the offer of another cupcake from eleven-year-old Idrurth. She frowned at her brothers. The only prince who wasn’t behaving strangely towards her was Zem. The foreign prince perched on a desk in the corner, polishing his new helmet.

“You can stop being nice to me, now,” Ennallya said. “I promise not to tell anyone you said those mean things.”

“Tell them one of your secrets,” Zem said, throwing himself over the back of the sofa to displace Idrurth beside her. He put his helmet on the table. “Perhaps then they’ll stop treating you like a baby.”

“Who has my teddy bear?” Ennallya asked.

Trinthius patted his pockets until he found it.

“The day we visited the mine,” Ennallya said, “I hid a crystal in my pocket, and now it’s inside Teddy.”

“That’s a big secret for a little girl to keep to herself,” Jerome said. One of the other brothers snickered.

“You’re making fun of me,” Ennallya said. “Can any of you do this?”

She balanced Teddy on the crest of Zem’s helmet. “Teddy fly!” The helmet rose from the table, transporting the bear closer to the ceiling before circling the room.

“I’ve had enough of this game,” Ennallya said, trying to remove her blindfold.

“One more try,” Charion said, pushing her hands away. He and his twin brother, Favrel, took turns spinning her around until her legs wobbled. “Now point to the weathervane on the North Tower.”

When her head stopped spinning, Ennallya raised her arm and pointed. “It’s over there,”

“Correct again!” Favrel cried. “You’re a human compass. We’ll never get lost again. You’re definitely coming with us on our next adventure.”

Ripping off the blindfold, she collapsed onto the grass. “I’ve had enough adventures. I’m tired, and I want to go to the nursery.”

“We’ll walk you back,” Jerome said, helping Ennallya to her feet. “You’ve had a busy day. I suggest the rest of us also have an early night so that we’re ready for the test tomorrow.”

“Why send us away in the middle of the Earth challenge and then give us a rest day?” Idrurth asked. “The aptitude test only takes a day.”

“It’s been fifty years since anyone got this far,” Jerome said. “They had to check the archives. The equipment for the next levels wasn’t built for – um.”

“A little six-year-old girl?” Idrurth suggested.

“I can’t find Teddy!” Ennallya wailed, scattering furnishings everywhere. “I left him here when I went to get dressed.”

Two maids followed the princess around the nursery, restoring order.

“Are you sure you didn’t take Teddy to your room?” her brother Trinthius asked. He and Remath were playing a board game near the window.

“I’ll check!” She rushed through the connecting door and frantically searched her bedroom. Returning to the nursery, she shouted, “He’s not there!” Then she froze. “Where did my brothers go?”

“The summons came while you were in your room,” one maid said. “The Princes said they’ll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs.”

Ushered from the nursery, Ennallya ran past the waiting guard. “Come on!”

“Take care, Your Highness, or you might collide––”

The guard’s warning came too late. Ennallya barrelled into a footman emerging from the visiting royals’ suite. He held a silver teapot.

“Aargghh!” The teapot flew upwards, and the lid came off. Soggy tea leaves rained over them.

“No!” Ennallya cried, reaching towards the teapot which obediently came to her. The shower reversed and the lid popped back into place. She handed the teapot back to the footman. “All fixed.”

It was the night of the Full Moon Festival. A sliver of moonlight shone through a crack in the curtain. Ennallya brought Teddy from beneath her pillow then pushed back the covers. A maid slumbered in a nearby armchair. The princess slid her bare feet to the floor.

“Shine, Teddy.” The hidden crystal awakened, providing sufficient light for Ennallya to cross her bedroom. The hinge of the wardrobe door creaked, and her heart leapt.

“Don’t wake up the maid now,” she whispered.

Reaching inside the wardrobe, Ennallya tugged at the long grey cloak until it tumbled down. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she hunted for her slippers. By the magical light, she confidently made her way across the darkened nursery. She approached the heavy doors leading to the corridor. Hugging Teddy, “For good luck,” she tucked him into a pocket. She grasped one of the brass knobs with both hands, twisted it and pulled hard until the door cracked open. Ennallya peered around the edge. The corridor was empty. She pushed herself through the narrow gap, and then she closed the door behind her.

The guard who had witnessed the teapot incident stepped out of the shadows. “Going somewhere, Princess?”

In Ennallya’s dream, a magic object sparkled beneath moonlit water. The perfect gift for Jerome’s birthday…

She awoke in her bedroom to find Teddy glowing and the maid asleep again. Ennallya put on her cloak and slippers, but a surprise awaited outside the door.

“Two guards?” she asked Guard Orvin.

“One is no longer enough,” Orvin said. “This is Pilby, a trusted officer. Where are we going, Your Highness?”

“To the river.”

“May I lead the way?” he asked, offering his hand. Guard Pilby walked behind them.

Orvin led them along a track that seemed to loop around the palace gardens. As soon as they arrived, Ennallya rushed towards the water.

“Careful, Princess,” said Orvin. “Don’t fall in.”

“In my dream, I found a special rock––”

“Ah,” said Orvin. “Dream magic. I’ll find it for you.” Taking off his boots, he waded into the water. After a few moments, he held up a rock. “Is this it? It looks like a dragon.” He tossed it to Pilby, who passed it to Ennallya.

“No-o. That’s not Jerome’s present.” She slipped the rock into her pocket.

“What about this one?” In her hand, the rock began to shine.

“Yes!” she cried.

“What’s behind this gate?” Ennallya asked Guard Orvin. She pointed to a towering gate set in an evergreen hedge.

“The stables, and beyond that the armoury.”

“The stables are there,” Ennallya said, pointing to the far right and then waving to the left, “and the armoury is w-aa-ay over there. What’s in the middle?”

“The training arenas.”

“Can we go there?”

“I warn you, Princess,” Orvin said, with his hand on the latch. “At this time of day, there’s nothing to see but sweaty boys hitting each other with sticks.”

“No girls?” Ennallya spotted a stick on the ground and practised striking an imaginary foe. “Why don’t girls get to train?”

“Princess, you don’t need to hit anyone,” Orvin said. “That’s my job.”

Guard Pilby cleared his throat.

“And Pilby’s job,” Orvin added.

Ennallya considered this for a moment. “I wouldn’t need you if I knew how to hit for myself.” She whacked his padded arm with her stick.

“Find a better use for that,” Orvin suggested, snapping the stick in half.

“You broke my weapon!” she cried. Ennallya squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on mending the stick.

“Highness,” Orvin said, “Please stop. The broken stick is beginning to sprout.”

A warm fuzzy feeling wrapped itself around Ennallya. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy. The strange warmth spread from her head to her fingers and toes, and then everything went dark.

“Why am I lying on the ground?” Ennallya asked when she reopened her eyes. When she tried to sit up, her body refused to cooperate.

“Don’t move too quickly, Princess.”

Turning her head sideways, Ennallya found Orvin crouched beside her on a gravel path. He was frowning. She raised herself onto her elbows.

“Careful, Princess.” Orvin reached towards her shoulder but hesitated. Without touching her, he leaned back and stared at her.

“I feel heavy,” she said, and her body slumped back to the ground. “I don’t remember falling.”

“What do you remember?”

“You and Pilby were taking me to the training arenas.” She raised her head and squinted at the garden around them. “Where’s Pilby?”

“I sent him to the palace to get help.”

“Why do you need help?” Her eyes grew round. “Was there an attack?” She grabbed Orvin’s arm, using him as a crutch to help her stand. “Where’s my stick?”

Orvin pointed to a leafy branch lying on the path.

The gate burst open. A dozen guards in full uniform pushed through. They stopped short when Orvin saluted them.

“Where’s my daughter?” shouted the King. He stepped through the crowd, with the Keeper of the Watch beside him.

“I’m here, Father,” Ennallya said, taking a tentative step forward.

The Keeper of the Watch held his staff in front of the King, barring his progress. “Wait, Your Majesty. Let me determine whether it is safe.” Then he moved the staff and poked Ennallya with it.

“Hey, stop hitting me,” said the princess. “Orvin, do something!”

“I’m sorry, Princess,” Orvin said. “Please be quiet. Remain still. The Keeper is checking that your magic is safe.”

“What’s wrong with my magic?” Ennallya asked. “After my test, he said my magic was only an ammom- an amomany–”

“The word you are looking for is ‘anomaly’, Your Highness,” the Keeper said. “Your magic is an anomaly that is becoming more interesting with each new manifestation.” He poked her again.

“I don’t want a man-uf-est-ation,” Ennallya wailed. “I want my mother!”

“Let me through,” cried the Queen, pushing forward to embrace Ennallya. “Shame on you. Why are you terrorising my daughter with your close-minded superstitions.”