It seems we're breeding writing talent here, in our Loony Bin (it's how we like to call our house). Royce's 19-year-old son Wyatt, who is graduating from high school this summer, has started writing his first fantasy novel, and it's got everything to become big and epic, dwarves and elves and magic and murder and...well, here is the opening of the first chapter, and Wyatt said he's cool with you commenting on his Google Doc and giving him feedback. He wants to finish it. At the moments the story is almost at 5K words. I encourage you to encourage him to keep writing. We need more art in this world, more stories, more compassion. Here it is, for your enjoyment. (Up next a post on how I plan to reactivate my business muscles to sell more books, and what writing full-time for 5 years has taught me).

A BREATH OF JUSTICE

A novel by Wyatt Daniel

Chapter One, opening

There was a city called Breling, in that city lived a Dwarf that went by the name of Eoben Bronzehammer. Eoben was a stout man, with a chest the size of a barrel and arms that are sturdy and strong. His hair was a golden brown like the wheat fields at sunset and shaped in a long pony tail. His beard is that of the earth in color, was close kept but fairly long and was in a twin braid. He was a hardened Dwarf, he saw much of battle and death was something of an old friend to him. Eoben was a smithy and he was the king's smith at that. He had been working at the forge for little over a hundred years now and was constantly working on something.

During the middle of summer when he was working on armor for the guards Eoben heard a scream that pierced the air and chilled the person to the bone. Eoben rushed out the shop dropping the helmet he was working on he bumped into a lady on his way out. “Oh, excuse me my apologies.” He said. He then made his way to the town square. As he got there, there was a huge crowd already around the scene, he tried to rush past the crowd to see what had happened but an Elf was holding him back.

"Make way!” Eoben said trying to force his way past. He brushed the Elf's arm that had been holding him back off his shoulder and tried to move forward.

"Sir, don't go please. You will not like what you find." said the Elf, as he proceeded to grab Eoben’s shoulders and hold him back again this time with more force.

"I said, move!" Eoben pushed the Elf and made his way to the center. When Eoben got to the center he saw in horror that it was his wife that had screamed initially. He looked around trying to see if he could find the assassin but made no sense of where he could be. Eoben left it for now and turned his attention to his dying wife. "Arlen?, Arlen? can you hear me" He said wrapping his arm under her head. She looked pale as snow and her lips were blue. Her skin was cold as well, there was no sign of any blood on the ground or on Arlen.

"Eoben?" she said feebly. "You must find the one who did this. there is something I never told you about my past. I never meant for this to happen, I am so sorry..." her eyes slowly fluttered and then shut.

"Arlen! Arlen!" He shook her, hoping she would open her eyes and stay with him. He began to sob and moan.

After a short period of time Eoben noticed the knife on the ground next to her, he picked it up and put it in his bag to examine later at the chapel. Just as he put the knife away the guards showed up.

“What happened here?!” One if the guards asked, looking around. Seeing Eoben, “Do you know what happened here Eoben?” He asked moving towards him.

“Bregor, someone murdered my wife before I got here. Does it look like I know what happened. “ Eoben said with a slight anger to his voice. His body was still shaking as he knelt there. Eoben got up and looked around, “Did anyone see what happened here!?” He said loudly with anger still in his voice. The crowd grew louder. He scanned the crowd again, “Did any of you see what happened!?” shouting louder this time.

“I did.” Said an Elf walking up to Eoben. “I didn’t see much, but the man was tall and he was wearing a black cloak.”

“Did you see anything else?” Bregor asked him. “Anything that can identify him.”

“He had a dark symbol on the cloak. It looked more like a serpent, it had twin heads with horns, and it was dark green as well.” The Elf glided up next to them and down to the body. “There was a knife that he used but it doesn't seem to be here anymore.” He said looking around.

“I have it.” Eoben said pulling it from his bag. “I planned on bringing it to the chapel to investigate it.” He said handing it to the Elf.

“The names Crætel. I'm part of the mages guild in Greleth.” He said holding out his hand.

“Eoben.” He grabbed the Elf's hand reluctantly. He looked down to his wife's dead body. “Can I bury my wife first before we get to investigating. I mean we are all standing here like she's a stranger.”

“Of course.” Crætel said smiling weakly. “We don't want to be rude now.” Crætel picked up his staff and proceeded to follow Eoben.

Eoben picked up his wife's body and headed off towards his house, Crætel and Bregor followed in suit. The crowd began to disperse as the group left, just then someone slowly walked out of the shadows with his hand on the wall and watched as Eobens party walked away. It was the same hooded figure the Elf had described. He turned and left disappearing into the shadows with a bright blue flash of light. The only thing he left behind was a bloody handprint on the wall.

When the group reached Eoben’s house, Eoben led them to the sitting room “Stay here until I am done out back.” went out grabbed his shovel and began to dig in the corner of his back yard. His back yard was a glory of colors with lilacs and roses around the edges. There were a couple metal statues that he had made in his shop that lined the garden and a single tree.

“Do you need help?” Bregor asked. Coming to the back through the house and leaning against the porch pillar.

“No. Go make our guest comfortable, I'll work on this and i'll come in when i’m done.”

“Okay, take your time my friend” Bregor turned and walked into the house leaving Eoben to tend to the grave...