Update: Because I'm still alive
Word Count: 25,411
Number of completed chapters: 6 + 1 interlude flashback chapter.
Death toll: 0, although the day of reckoning is coming.
Number of Liam/Avyn bromance moments: 6, although this is probably an under-estimate.
Number of cheesy but plot-necessary kiss scenes: 2 (one is a flashback, in my defense).
Number of times Kayla has seriously reconsidered the killing off her favorite minor character even if his death IS plot-essential: Every other sentence while writing chapter thirteen.
Number of times Kayla has wanted Avyn to be real so she could SMACK him: The entirety of chapter 15. And at least once every chapter. I know he's going to get better, but he needs to do it SOON.
Number of times my characters fail at conforming to socially expected norms: Besides the fact that Kyrsis and Lisleia wear dresses (for now)? Ever. Other. Sentence.
Aaaand now a little lolscene for you:
Well,” I started, looking around and being completely unable to see anything except the bare and blurry outline of my own free hand when I waved it right in front of my face. “The first thing I am going to do now is become fast friends with the L’Vortai.”
“The darkcrafters? Why is that?” He asked- his voice not judgmental but genuinely curious as to what had brought on this sudden declaration.
“Lamp crystals. Lots and lots of lamp crystals. The tunnel can hardly be of any use to anyone if you trip and fall flat on your face while you are trying to escape because you could not see two feet in front of your own face.” L’Arian lamp crystals had been the best for good lighting- being a race of lightcrafters and all- but the L’Vortai took up the craft when the L’Aria were wiped out. They were much dimmer, but lamp crystals at least lasted for a very long time and required no oil or tending to. They also did not set things on fire.
“Well you could always bring a torch.” He added, attempting to be more reasonable than my plan.
“Details, Anastus. Details.” I waved my hand dismissively- a silly gesture considering that he could not actually see it at all. Without thinking about it, I simply kept walking in the dark until I managed to collide with his wall of a body with a very unladylike “oof“. If he had planned on stopping, he could have at least given me warning.
That was when he dragged me over to the wall and I found the palm of his free hand planted firmly over my forehead of all places. It took me a few fractions of a second of standing there momentarily startled to realize that what he had actually intended to do.
“Anastus.” I started, trying to hide the rising fear his reaction had elicited in me behind a joke. I grabbed the wrist below the hand planted over my forehead and noticed the tension there. “My mouth is down here.”
