There Was Something You Were Hiding, On The Night You Ran Away.

There was something you were hiding, on the night you ran away.

I literally hate getting wet 99.9% of the time but today was a weird day so I biked in the rain. 10/10 would recommend. Don't know what it was about intentionally getting soaked, but great vibes, really.

In other news the next installment of Werewoof Undies is set to post tomorrow. I'm overly excited about that.

The Worry (part 2)

The second week passed without event, though Jake did pretend no one was home as Adrian came knocking at one point. No one else was home, so it wasn’t too hard to do. Now, though, it was Saturday, late afternoon, and Ethan had yet to come back from his coffee date with his cousin. It had been a few hours, so it was strange that he wouldn’t have come back yet. Max and Jake were sitting at the kitchen table waiting silently, both imagining how things might have gone, and what might be keeping Ethan so late.

Max’s mind, from the state of his shaking leg, was likely conjuring images of the government snatching Ethan and questioning him in a dark, steel room. Jake’s mind was conjuring images of a silversmith being astounded by the request for a silver bullet, Ethan coming home and deciding to hunt and kill the original wolf to reverse the curse. Of course, Ethan had said it was technically a supernatural disease, and had no reversal process. Jake’s mind easily changed course to Ethan busking on a street corner, scatting to get the money for enough silver to make chains. Of course, they had already ruled that out, but it was fun to imagine it.

Their reveries were finally put to rest when they heard the door open, and they tried to seem more casual than they were about rushing to hear what Ethan had found out and why he’d been gone so long. When they got to the door, though, they found the answer to why he’d been gone late.

Ethan’s arms were full of different bags, each from a different store, and none of them a store that Jake recognized. From peaking into them, Jake couldn’t figure out what the common thread was. There were herbs and spices, crystals, chalk, and deodorant, among other things.

“What happened?” Max asked. “What is all this?”

“Well, my cousin can talk for quite a while when you get him started. He told me all kinds of things to try. So I got them all, and we’re going to try them,” Ethan said.

“Walk us through the conversation as you unpack,” Jake suggested. He was incredibly pleased with this turn of events. Nothing would make him happier than attempting to prove or disprove every legend ever recorded about werewolves, using Max as a test subject.

“He’s been taking a course on the history of herbalism as it relates to witchcraft, so several of the things he mentioned are plant based. One of the first was wood from the rowan tree, which used to have all kinds of relationships to magic and the supernatural. Witches were supposed to use rowan wood to make wands in order to increase their magic, but it was also good for weaving, and more importantly, warding off evil. A tree planted in a town would steer away the supernatural beings trying to enter the town. But more than that, supernatural creatures, including werewolves, were believed to be unable to cross a barrier made of Rowan wood.”

Ethan took out several sprigs of wood, placing them all around Max where he stood with Jake’s help. They both looked at Max expectantly, who looked back in confusion for a moment before getting the idea. He stepped out of the circle of the wood without issue and looked back at the other two.

“Not surprising, it sounded like no one could agree on what the tree actually does. It’s probably only wood. None of this is scientifically proven, you know, or at least, most of it isn’t. There have been a few experiments with silver, but really not all that many of that, either,” Ethan said. “Well, then he mentioned this man who was tried for witchcraft for using this plant,” he pulled a conical sprig of yellow flowers from another bag, “agrimony. It’s got an old rhyme essentially positing that if you sleep with agrimony under your pillow, you won’t wake up until it’s taken away. We can test that one tonight, but I was thinking if you went to bed early before the full moon, that might be useful.”

“So a person would never wake up if someone didn’t take it back out from under their head?” Max asked. “That’s kind of creepy. If that works, you had better not make me stay asleep any longer than you need to to test it.”

“That’s up to our interpretation, right?” Jake asked.

“Up to my interpretation, maybe,” Ethan said. “Don’t worry Max, I’m not going to let Jake use this willy-nilly. Next one was easier to find, given it’s December. Mistletoe, which was sacred because it grew from the sky. This one was just kind of a catch all to ward off evil, and some stuff about future husbands, which isn’t relevant right now.”

Jake took the mistletoe from Ethan, which was in plastic. Jake unwrapped it from its protective covering in case that would affect how it worked, then he held it out at Max.

“What is being repelled supposed to feel like? Also, I’m not evil. Maybe that affects things. Maybe it only wards of werewolves who are evil.”

“Well, just get really close and let me know if you feel anything,” Jake said, and he watched Max take a step towards him and the mistletoe. When he got close enough, Jake placed the mistletoe on Max’s head, watching for any reaction.

“I don’t feel anything. Except a little bit awkward because I have mistletoe on top of my head, but other than that, nothing,” Max said.

“I don’t think you would be okay with it sitting on your head if it really were going to repel you. Maybe these things don’t work properly unless you’ve already changed, so we can’t rule anything out, but so far this is disappointing,” Ethan said. “Rituals next, then.”

“Oh, this is going to be the good part, isn’t it?” Jake said.

“Well, not all of the rituals he mentioned are viable, but I took some notes to make sure we’re trying them correctly. But some of the ingredients really weren’t possible to get. Human blood, for one, and another requires that it be the blood of the werewolf,” Ethan said, looking at the notes he had. Due to his focus on the notes, he didn’t see Jake leaving the room, and Max was busy looking through the other supplies in the bags.

“Ow!” Max said after Jake sliced open his arm a bit using a knife from the kitchen. He pressed the edges, getting plenty of blood to well up, then wiped it with a cotton ball. By the time he’d finished, the cotton ball was half-stained red, and the wound was already closing up.

“Got the blood. What’s the next step?” Jake asked, holding the cotton ball out to Ethan.

“Dude. I didn’t take notes for those rituals,” Ethan said, frozen in confusion and a small amount of shock.

“Do you think you could remember them?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know why you thought you were allowed to do that,” Max said, also frozen in confusion.

“You’ve already healed, it’s fine,” Jake excused.

“Even if I could remember them, one of them was to bind and kill the werewolf. I think the other was about locating a werewolf, and I don’t think that’s especially relevant in this context,” Ethan said.

“Well, that’s disappointing. I guess I have to just throw this away now,” Jake said, and did, in the kitchen trash.

“Now there was no point in cutting me without asking,” Max said.

“There wasn’t a point to begin with. We have some much more realistic options here. Now, take this sage,” Ethan said, handing Max the sage.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Max asked, holding the sage like a wedding bouquet.

“We’re going to light it after I draw this circle,” Ethan said, holding up colorful chalk.

“Where was this side of Ethan all my life?” Jake said in an aside to Max. “All it takes is an academic interest and practical causes to get him to do rituals in the living room. You should have turned into a werewolf ages ago.”

“Remember how it wasn’t intentional? Don’t know how you would do it intentionally,” Max trailed off.

“Oh, there were rituals for that, too.  Some people think that the origin of werewolves was rituals where warriors would consume the flesh of dogs and wolves to make themselves better hunters, and ended up gaining the ability to transform,” Ethan said, drawing a circle until he hit the edge of the couch. “Jake, can you move the couch, please? Thank you. Similar to how the origin of vampires was supposed to be early alchemical experiments, but there haven’t been any modern sightings of vampires, so either they were all killed or they were never real to begin with.”

“Do people hunt werewolves? I just realized I don’t know if that’s, like, a legal thing that people can do,” Max said.

“Well, they used to. That’s over half of what my cousin talked about. They had werewolf trials just like they had witch trials, though werewolves predate the concept that they’re evil,” Ethan said, finishing the circle. “Not now, though. The only ones who are allowed to deal with werewolves are government folks. And not the one secret branch, that’s just a rumor. So I wouldn’t call that ‘hunting’. What they do with werewolves isn’t public knowledge, though.”

“Can you go a day without making it obvious the government is going to hunt me like I’m bin Laden?” Max said. “It’s bad enough my murder will be unsolvable because I won’t even have dental records.”

“The only reason I decided against trying the teeth ritual is because you’re obviously too obsessed with them already,” Ethan said, handing a lighter to Max. “Light that bundle and hold it just like you were. Don’t burn your clothes.”

“There’s a teeth ritual?” Jake said in awe. “How are the teeth involved?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ethan said. “This ritual is about to be finished, so focus on that.”

“What’s this one supposed to do?” Max asked, holding the smoking bundle like he wasn’t sure how it ended up in his hands.

“Well, the one inside the circle is supposed to be stuck there until someone on the outside of the circle breaks it. Try stepping out,” Ethan said. Max stepped out, towards the kitchen, sage still burning.

EEEEEEEEEET. EEEEEEEEEET. EEEEEEEEEET.

Jake tried to turn off the fire alarm, but with the sage still burning, it wouldn’t shut off.

“Take that thing outside,” Jake shouted over the noise as he repeatedly pressed the button to silence the fire alarm.

Max obeyed Jake, going and opening the front door to a surprised Adrian, fist raised as if he were just about to knock. Not knowing how to react, Max held the smoking sage out to Adrian, who took it automatically, confused at the sight of a chalk circle and sticks on the ground, furniture moved out of the way, fire alarm going off nonstop. Max panicked then, shutting the door on Adrian and running back into the kitchen.

“What did you just do?” Ethan said quietly.

“The fire alarm finally shut off,” Jake said, exiting the kitchen without understanding why Max had so suddenly entered it.

“Jake, Max just gave that burning sage to Adrian,” Ethan said.

“Adrian is here?” Jake said in alarm, rushing over to the door. He looked out the peephole to see the situation for himself. “Oh, he’s leaving. He looks a little out of it.”

“I can guess why. He just realized he has crazy neighbors,” Ethan said. “Look at all this.”

“All of this was your idea,” Jake said. “For once, being the crazy neighbors isn’t my fault.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s leaving. We will probably have to convince him that this never happened, or else make a good cover story,” Ethan said.

“We could say it was for Lent,” Jake suggested.

“This has nothing to do with Lent,” Ethan said exhaustedly.

“Then we really should convince him it never happened,” Max chimed in. Anyway, he’s gone now, so it all worked out. Are there any other rituals?”

“No,” Ethan said. “Not right now, at least. There are some that are dependent on time of day, and a couple that we can only try on the night of the full moon.”

“Hey, why was I the one holding the sage? Doesn’t it make more sense for the people trapping a werewolf to hold the sage? I mean, how many werewolves would be aiding with the ritual to get trapped?” Max asked. Ethan furrowed his eyebrows in thought, rechecking his notes.

“I definitely wrote that the werewolf holds the sage. Maybe my cousin got it wrong? Maybe we should try that again the other way around.”

“We lost the sage,” Jake said. “And besides, I don’t want to set the fire alarm off like that again. Hey, if we’re going to be trying out rituals, can I try some if I can find any?”

“If Ethan’s aren’t working, why would you have a ritual that works?” Max asked.

“Well, maybe I can find something a little more current. His are all muddled by the time gap and false reporting and all that kind of thing. But there are werewolves around now, so there are probably some more current sources out there,” Jake argued. He didn’t want to admit that he was only arguing this because it would justify his knowledge of several odd forums in the depths of the internet.

“If you can find a good source, then why not?” Ethan said. “We don’t have anything that works yet, so we can’t go limiting our options too much.”

“Is the rest of this for rituals, too?” Max asked.

“Most of it, yeah. There’s some holy water and salt for barrier creation, though I’m less sure of those, but we might as well try them on the night.”

“And the deodorant?” Jake asked.

“I needed deodorant,” Ethan replied.

Fate?

In writing, especially with magic systems, the question of fate comes into play. Any character who can see the future or interact with the past kind of brings this up. Is what they see guaranteed to happen, or something that can change? Is what they changed going to change the present, or will it bring about what has already happened?

In my current WIP I have two subtypes of fate: Soft Fate and Hard Fate, for the purpose of discussion. Different magic interacts with different ones. Soft Fate is going to happen, unless some particular thing changes the Soft Fate. Hard Fate cannot be changed. It will happen. As such, Hard Fate sometimes contradicts with Soft Fate at times, because the Soft Fate is going to change.

That's obviously confusing, but basically what I am getting at is that, in this world, there is Hard Fate, which is immutable, but if you're seeing the future, you don't typically see that path. You see Soft Fate when you glimpse the future. As part of that, if you see something and want to change it, you will have to use some kind of magic that has the capacity to change that.

It is also really uncommon to be able to see into the Hard Fated Future. Most people who are seeing the future can then change that future. One person in the story has a limited ability to see the Hard Fated Future, though this is never really explicitly understood within the story: Tye can see signs of the very near future (in the form of Ravens, by the way).

There is one character who sacrifices part of his ability to use magic in exchange for writing something into Soft Fate. That one in particular would require some serious magic to undo.

One character could actually change which path she had taken. As in, she could go to a version of things where she had made a different decision in the near past. As such, she could avoid the consequences of bad decisions she had made.

I would be interested to see how other people handle the question of fate. If you have any future-seeing abilities in your world, how do they work? I know I have seen where the future is guaranteed all the time, and I have also seen where the future-seeing is essentially just a really good intuition that can easily be tricked or perhaps even clouded. Do you find one of these more compelling, or another option I haven't thought of?

This is incredibly accurate

editing is so fun. I'm learning what the story I wrote is about

My current WIP (still editing. Yay.) is very tied to colors and visuals in a way that I have always thought it would be better suited to being a comic. However, I do not have the time to make it a comic. But it and all its offshoots have very strong color connotations that I think would be useful to see. For example, the unwritten prequel to my trilogy has a duo, Winston and Liam, who are represented by dark blue and fire orange, respectively. While these are literally present (Winston works with blue clock steel and Liam has heavy affiliations with firelight) these are also metaphorical, and show up in the themes of the story.

The dark blue is a kind of association with respect (think navy blue in officers' uniforms) and shadows (think underground organizations). At least, that's how I feel about it. And the interplay between those two is a big theme in the book, and Winston is on both sides at different times.

Fire orange is still affiliated with night, since fire is used as a light source, but also sunrise and sunset. I think of it representing passion, also. But also destruction. The interplay between passion and warmth vs. consuming fire is something Liam shows.

And each of the books has similar color associations. The one I am currently editing has primarily black and white associations, which I use to denote secrecy vs. openness and isolation vs. connection, and even influence vs. intentionally removing oneself from being influential. All of these things are things I would love to put in front of your eyes visually, and the way I have to get those colors in via a text-only medium has to strike a balance where it isn't just me constantly being like "that guy is associated with the color purple".