Last night’s rant was cathartic for me to the point I was able to start working on the sequel to Vynasha, A Wylder Tale! In case you aren’t clued in, Wylder Tales is my upcoming YA Fantasy Saga, a series of fairy tale re-telling’s. But these aren’t your average fairy tales. Swing over to the tab above to learn more 😀
Meantime, enjoy this teaser trailer!
Whispers in the dark haunted Vynasha for so long, she woke to a suffocating silence. Her fingers sought purchase of the hilt of her dagger but found only the fur blankets she was cocooned in. Desperation and the disquiet in her soul made her more awares than her nightmares. The room she was in was dark and filled with smoke from a nearby fire. Her cot hugged a log wall and the fire sat at the very center of the strange house. The smoke rose up through a small hole above, but the air was still permeated with the foul stench.
When she blinked, a memory of scalding ash and licking flames passed behind her eyelids. She threw aside her covers and hobbled on unsteady legs. She reached out to grasp the cabin wall and followed the rough texture until she found a groove, a crack that framed the closed doorway. Her lungs began to burn by the time she managed to push the door out.
For a terrifying moment all she could see was white, blinding light. And blindly, she stumbled out into the unknown, out of desperation rather than desire. Her fur wrapped feet sank into ankle deep snow and her arms flailed as she sought her bearings. Distantly she thought she could hear voices again and weighed whether or not to fear them. Yet she missed the ever present whispers of the castle walls and it drove her now towards these strangers. For the first time she noticed a numb, lingering pain in her thigh, like the memory of a wound. But when she reached down she felt no bandage over her nightdress and could not recall having trouble with the leg before.
The outline of trees began to take shape, like gray silhouettes in her blurred vision. Figures darted to and from round structures in the near distance and froze at her approach.
A child screamed and a mother tried to silence him.
Vynasha froze and felt the tears brew in her eyes.
Witch, they had whispered behind her back in the village of Whistleande. The children were afraid of her and while all loved her roses, they kept a safe distance from her.
From my face.
She reached up to cover her face and could feel the textured scarring the ashes had left on her tarnished complexion. She blotted out the sound of the children screaming in the distance and distant memory.