My Disloyal Followers

Monday, February 25, 2013

Interesting Backstories

  I let out a soft chuckle, brushing back the wisps of hair beginning to fall in my eyes. It is, of course, one of the most irritating predicaments, to have ones hair constantly crawling down his forehead, no matter how sticky or dry, and slowly manage to poke its way into his eye and wait there, like a prickly bush that just won't move. "That is a nice joke," I called to the one managing the reins of the horse-driven carriage. "How long did you say we would be again, until we arrive at the lodge where I will be staying tonight?" Journeying along the edge of Moriem's territory, where Achmund reaches the uncharted territories, the days and nights were quiet, and not many people were often to be seen, making it especially difficult to find shelter in times of need. I wondered how the people who lived here managed.
  "Not too much longer, sir," he called back in a quiet voice. "Do you see the water in the distance? That is River -placeholder #1-, and just next to it is a small settlement. The lodge is just on the outskirts of it."
  "-placeholder #2-, how many times have I told you to call me -placeholder #3-? We are just friends here."
  I thought I could see his shoulders shake slightly from suppressed laughter. "Well, sir, we are merely more than acquaintances, and I prefer to keep my business short-lived and formal. Making friends does not do when always on the move."
  "Understood," I replied, understanding what he meant. "And how close are we now to Erom?"
  "Just over the river, that is the borderline actually. You're very close." I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, and gazed outside the window for the rest of the ride.
  Just as we were passing between the houses, I caught a few glimpses of a man beating a boy horribly. The boy could hardly have been eight years old, and it was behind a fence. I assumed the man was his father, and I had no right to step in even if I got the chance. We were just leaving the street when the pair appeared at the back door of their shabby, torn house, and the man twisted his arm so that he had clearly broken it, before throwing the boy down onto the road and kicking him more.
  I opened my mouth to say something, to stop the man, to stop the driver so that I could intercede, but before a sound could escape my throat, the driver's sincere voice came drifting to my ear. "That's how it works here. There is nothing we can do about that. Just stay away from it all, and make sure you don't get caught up in it." And that was the end of it.

But still I couldn't push down the repulsion that invaded my mind. After paying the driver, and finding my room in the lodge, I couldn't help but find out what had happened to the poor boy. I left immediately in the direction I remember the house being. Fortunately, my sense of direction didn't lead me astray, and I found the house. The back door, which was visible and could be accessed from the front, opened up into a wide expanse of dust and desert.
  I didn't know whether to be thankful or horrified that I found the boy so easily. He was right where the man had pushed him down and thrown him in the dirt. The moment I saw his limp body laying there, my first thought was, Is he dead? I rushed toward him for a closer look, after a quick glance to make sure the man wasn't around. The boy was curled on his left side, arm crumpled under him, other arm stretched above his face so that it couldn't be seen. He laid in the tight ball, one of pain. Gently, I lifted his right arm off his face and set him so that his back was pressed against the ground, dirtying his already filthy shirt. He jerked back once I put him like his, his dark green eyes locked on me fearfully. He tried to squirm away from me, but he was weak and injured, and I hardly had to exert any force to hold him down.
  "Wh-who are you?" he stammered, his expression static as he gave up trying to struggle.
  I opened my mouth to tell him my name, then remembered my plans of not letting anyone know who I am. "I'll tell you after you tell me," I replied, unable to contain a small smirk.
  He looked uncertain for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Why would I tell you that?"
  "I want to help you," said I simply, not wanting to reveal anything, but also wanting to show that I meant no harm. He didn't quite believe me, though. He tried to escape from me again, and when failure resulted a second time, he stared at me warily.
  "How can I be sure I can trust you?"
  "You can't. But think about the odds of survival based on your options."
  That seemed to grab his attention more, and the look of fear was just slightly replaced by curiosity and helplessness. "Meaning?" he whispered.
  I hesitated. I had to phrase this right, or it would all have been for nothing. "Well, I'm guessing this house is where you live, am I correct?" When he nodded, I continued. "If you take my help, I could either ensure your survival, or I could turn traitor and kill you, or enslave you. If you don't want my help, and you work things out on your own, then either you will become well off, you will die, or you will have to go back and be tortured more. Correct?"
  The boy opened and close his mouth several times, thinking about what I had said. Finally he nodded, and I asked him which one seemed the better odds. "I guess you would...," he replied reluctantly after thinking it through several times. His brow was scrunched up into a frown.
  "Do you accept it?"
  He nodded. Without a moment to waste, I started to lift him up. When I touched his arm, he flinched and kicked me as hard as he could, and I realized that was the arm that had been broken. Apologizing, I started to pick him up again, using his right arm instead. As I held the arm, his long sleeve feel back off his forearm, revealing black marks branded onto his skin. "You're...a slave!" I exclaimed, staring at it in astonishment, not peeling my eyes off.
 The boy jerked back and tried to cover it up. His eyes were wide and once more fearful as he glared at me. "Are you going to send me back?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion.
  I shook my head and resumed lifting him off the ground as gently as I can, determined not to hurt him anymore, and cradled him against my chest. "No, of course not. Slavery is bad. I didn't know it still existed."
  My answer seemed to satisfy him enough, and he relaxed in my arms, letting his head fall back. "Well it does," he replied sourly, his voice full of malice that I wouldn't have expected from a boy of eight. "Who are you anyway? You never told me."
  I smiled to myself. "My name is -placeholder #3-. And yours?"

So yeah. A little glimpse into Elnair's past. Opinions? Ideas for names that could fit into the placeholders?

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

And Tomorrow Never Came

I made two promises.

1. Tomorrow I will post the rest of what I had started about Azura and Elnair.
2. Tomorrow I will make a post about Les Miserables.

And tomorrow never came.

Life of a procrastinator, huh. Can anyone relate?

Well it wasn't totally procrastination. It also had to do with the minor fact that I am without a computer, and using another's is awkward because none of my information is on it. Not to mention all of the computers in my house are slow, it is just that mine is the worst.

Since I am not in the most creative mood currently, I shall focus on Les Mis today and the story on the tomorrow that will hopefully come.

I went to see Les Miserables with my friend one morning during Christmas break. I had not known it would even be a musical until she told me, about half an hour before the movie. So my expectations slid a bit lower. I don't like musicals. They're silly.

I soon forgot it was a musical after watching it. The songs, the tunes, they all came as words. The moment someone said a sentence not in tune, that was when I realized it had not been like that the entire time,

I had not liked the movie. It was not bad, but it didn't quite make a mark in my brain. Then I went to school, where a lot of people had seen it, and would sing the songs, and listening to the songs made me realize how amazing that movie was.

My favorite character was Javert. He had an amazing voice, and his character wasn't "bad". It was just too good. If you understand what I mean.

Second favorite was Eponine. She impresses me. So this boy you really like keeps talking about this other girl, who you have every reason to dislike, and then right when she is about to be taken care of and taken from your and his lives, what do you do? Oh, you scream and help her escape, and just accept the fact that he doesn't like you. I am impressed.

Favorite songs: Look Down, Stars, Javert's Suicide, Drink With Me, On My Own, One Day More, Do You Hear The People Sing, The Confrontation, I Dreamed a Dream, Master of the House, ABC Cafe/Red and Black, Empty Chairs at Empty Tables  ----- I'm sorry, was that almost everything?

I want to read the book now, but I only have the abridged version so I'm reading that.

For those of you who noticed that very few songs of the movie are actually on the soundtrack, I found someone online who has everything. Literally, everything. So if you're interested, I can send them to you, or give you the Les Mis playlist I made with all 60 songs.

Anyway, discuss with me!

And by the way, I created a wordpress blog: Hardly Alive. Follow me please!

Sunday, February 10, 2013


Yes, yes, I know this is a writing blog, but I have broken that rule many times in the past and am breaking it again now. This post will be about songs, maps, and possibly I will include a writing piece, if something good comes to me.


If I hadn't mentioned before, I am not a very big fan of the Hunger Games. The idea itself isn't very appealing, and I think it could have been written better. And though I'm probably being hypocritical saying this, I think the popularity and attention it received made me dislike it even more. I'm sorry. I can't help it.

I did, however, enjoy the movie. I honestly think the movie is better than the book. So today, while I was listening to my Narnia playlist, I thought suddenly, I never went and listened to the Hunger Games one. So I did that, and I was prepared to give a speech about how it was good, but not very impressive. And the first few tracks did make me believe that even more. Then I listened to, what was it, the fifth one, I think, and it was so intense, and entrancing. Then the next few after that were boring too. But when I listened to Rue's Farewell, I had to listen to it again, and again. Because that second half is so beautiful, and it actually made me sad. I thought that track might be a little melancholy, but I didn't expect it to hit that hard, because I was looking down on the music in the first place. So, I have been proven wrong, listening to the Hunger Games soundtrack was a very good way to spend an hour.

When I finished that, I came across a man playing The Battle, from the Narnia soundtrack on piano. He was very good, but what really struck me was that he played it by ear. Not by sheet music. By ear! That was amazing. And because of that, I will give you the link: The Battle

Did I ever mention that I watched Les Miserables and adore the songs? If I didn't, remind me to talk about that next post. :)


This is my first draft of a map of Moriem. (I don't have the double dots here, unfortunately, and I'm too lazy to go copy paste.) This is really bad quality, I'm sorry about that. I think if you click on it, it gets bigger, but the quality still sucks.

Writing Piece.

Hm...maybe another Azura one? Or an Elnair/Azura. I love that pair. And this is the only girl character that I don't mind writing in the point of. Yay.

  Her small fingers reached out to grasp the flimsy page in the book that rested in her lap and slowly pulled it gently but not too hesitantly to the next page, savoring the last few words on that one, reading it again and again, entranced by the beauty of it. Funny how powerful words can really be, she thought admiringly. Her dark side pulsed angrily in her head, letting his mind drift to less pleasant thoughts, but she forced it back down with all her willpower. I will not feel sorry for myself. I just will not. Lately, her patience had been becoming less and less. She feared that one day, she might finally succumb to the dark mass of anger that swirled inside of her. There were three scars on her inner left forearm to prove that she was not as much in control as she thought she was. While she had done it, it had seemed sensible, but when in a normal state of mind, she couldn't imagine what had gotten into her. Now her largest, most important goal was not to give in to that again. She would not cut herself again.
  Azura was just shaking her head and looking at the first word on the next page when a loud cursing in a familiar voice shook her out of her beautiful fantasy. She glanced out the window she was slouched down next to to see, not surprisingly, her closest friend for over a decade stomping around and trampling the unfortunate dirt. Elnair, as usual, seemed angry and furious about something, obviously put out. Standing up, and smoothing her rumpled skirt down, she leaped about down the hall to greet him at the door, a bright smile on her face, her energy level spiking up. Azura always enjoyed seeing him, even when it meant soothing his injured ego, because he was the only one who actually cared about her. He wasn't a fake friend. He had serious issues, and was a bit narcissistic, but he still managed to bring happiness even when in the darkest of moods, if only as a comedy relief.
  When she opened the door, Elnair stormed in past her and punched the wall angrily before wincing and clutching his injured hand delicately. "That was intelligent," Azura remarked, not bothering to ask what had happened, or to see if he was okay. She held back a smirk when he glared at her, his green eyes sparkling madly, and his dark brown hair ruffled and unkempt, plastered against his damp face. "I hope you will pay from my broken wall," she added, despite the wall being completely fine.
  Azura thought she could see the tiniest crack of a smile threaten to spoil his demeanor, but it was so faint and quick that she might have thought she had imagined it if she hadn't known him better. "You care so much for me," he responded hoarsely, as though he had screamed and shouted plenty before coming. His voice dripped with sarcasm and mockery, and heavy and thick as rich syrup seeping down the trunk of a tree. Azura was certain he had gotten into some fight that didn't end quite as he had wanted.
  "Of course!" She gasped and pulled her hand to hover over her mouth in mock surprise. It wasn't as if that was not true anyway. She did care for him - more than she should. "Well, if you want to keep feeling sorry for yourself, you may stand here and think about how to mend my injured, fragile wall. Or, you could come inside with me to listen to my book summary of the day." Elnair rolled his eyes, but stepped into the common room, and plopped onto a sofa as though he owned the house. Azura bit back a laugh and shut the door before following him in.
  She opened her mouth to start talking, to stall time while she waited for him to start complaining. She would never sincerely ask him what was wrong, because that went against all the unspoken rules of their friendship. Azura acted like she didn't care, and he teased her in return. Of course, during one of his tantrums, like this one, he would never tease her, but most of the time he was a pleasant person to be around. In fact, he was always pleasant, save the few times he got upset, or he was around someone he didn't know. Azura didn't understand why, but whenever Elnair would meet someone new, he would treat them as he would an enemy, unless they proved themselves over and over again to him. She was the one person who hadn't had to go through that ritual. Their friendship was odd, him being eighteen, two years older than her. But he didn't have any other friends, always keeping his guard up so no one would want to be around him.
  "Blood," he interjected before she could even make a sound. Azura sat down and prepared herself for a long, angry rant. "Blood is all they care about. Ancestry, relations, names, blood! It's never about who the person is themselves, or what type of reputation he might have." Azura raised an eyebrow when he stopped, indicating that she was listening. She watched as he stood up, his fingers clenched, his whole body shaking. "You know that we have been without a king or queen for nearly a year now. King Ethan died, Queens Wendy and Aqua were lost, and King Firenze decided he didn't want the pressure of being the only one and left us. Fat lot of help he was. But we have held off for so long. For a year there has been little bloodshed. Now, we are beginning to fight. People want to be king." Azura wasn't entirely sure what any of this had to do with the word blood, but she remained silent and waited for him to finish. "There are many suitable men out there who are powerful or wise enough to be king. Including myself."
  It took a moment for the depth of what he was saying to sink in. "Oh," she said simply, when she finally realized what he meant.

I had so much more planned out, but this is turning out too long. I shall post the rest tomorrow. :) I hope you enjoyed that! And a little information on what I wrote. If you go back and read the summary of a story I'm planning that I posted a few posts ago, then you'll understand this better. But the main thing is that this scene takes place about a year before when the book will. So the only reason I wrote this is because it will never take place during the actual story. I will not write that, no matter what, until the next NaNoWriMo. That's all.

Oh, one more thing. I can't help but be painfully aware of how few views my blog actually gets. So, um, if you could come check more often, or tell people you know about this, then that would be nice.

And about that earring raffle I had done a while ago, I'll get back to that once I find those blasted earrings. My mom says they are somewhere in the jewelry room...if you think you know what a messy room looks like, think again. Maybe I'll put up a picture of that tomorrow.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Charming Tunes

A poem my mom and I wrote a few days ago. Revel in its beauty.

Come sit here, or he will get mad
He has to finish his work, or it will be bad
And then he will be sad
Which will be very, very bad
And then you will not be glad
And he will be a very bad dad
Now can we bring in Chad?
Who will be only in a shirt clad
Cause that will be really, really rad
And then, this will be the latest fad
Oh come on now, don't say "EGAD!"
Because then you'll know you've been had
And you will not be a happy lad
And then you will have to wax yourself with nad
Because of which, you will run out of pads
Don't leave now, won't you listen to me a tad?

Backstory: My six year old brother kept pestering my dad to take him for a shower. But my dad was doing his work, and was starting to get angry that my brother wouldn't be quiet. My mom and I called my brother to sit with us and wait for him. She said something with the words mad and bad in it, so then I added on using another word, and we created a whole poem like this. We then wrote down however much we could remember.

Oh, and this is my 101th post. :)

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Excerpts and Daydreams, Useless Words

  Sometimes I want to be mean. Sometimes I want to give people a little taste of their own medicine. I lay in my bed, cry myself to sleep, and resolve myself to make things right, to stop putting myself down for another's sake. I let people walk all over me like a doormat, because I'm mature enough not to make huge deals out of little things. I wish people would be more mature. No one ever believes I have problems. If only they knew. What they would do,  I thought as I once again held back sobs of depression, clutching my arms around my chest and waiting for my body to stop shaking, for me to calm down enough to talk sense into my biased mind. The window-side bed under me was warm and fluffy, allowing me to sink in and revel in my fit of selfishness for the few minutes I was out of control. 
  Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Soon I was just laying there, staring out of the open window with a thick blanket covering me, the stars of the deep night sky reminding me of my place in the enormous world. My problems were petty compared to others', and they couldn't be seen when placed into the big picture. I meant nothing.
  Nothing. No. I refused to let myself go into that all too familiar torrent of despair again, but yet I couldn't help it. Friends always came to me for advice, poured out their problems and frustrations, while I would comfort them and give them something to look forward to, brighten the mood if I had nothing to say, at least make them feel better. No one deserves to be miserable, it's such a horrid thing to do to someone. People don't realize the harm they can cause without realizing it. But I helped them in their times of need, and suddenly they vanished when I was no longer needed. Sweet friends I have.
  And I was always the quiet one, the one that no one knows exist. The one that sits in the back corner and does all her work, and mingles with only the one person who she becomes close to. I knew I was pretty. I had pretty features, but due to my lay low personality, I was never anything special. Never. And no one ever took me seriously, because I was short. They would mistake me for a small child, treat me like a small child even when they knew how old I was. 
  One would think that family would help, but it only made everything worse. Being yelled at and lectured all the time, never being good enough, always letting them down. Being told how to behave by a sibling nearly a generation younger, always being bossed around no matter what and by who! And not being allowed to make any snide remarks.
  It was enough to drive anyone mad.
  It was enough to let one's eyes slip accidentally to the small blade that hid itself in a drawer.
  It was enough to hold it to one's wrist and quickly slit it, relish in the pain and watch the blood pour out, and feel sorry for yourself.
  I knew I was just becoming an attention seeker. I wanted people to know what they've done to someone who was born without a care in the world. I hated attention seekers, and yet there I was, becoming a hypocrite. Never being part of the group, even among your own friends! Always the third wheel, always the one that gets interrupted in the middle of speaking and forgotten about. I was done. Just done.


Monday, February 4, 2013

Insert Big Words to Make Post Sound Interesting

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure this post is interesting. But you know how when you use a lot of big words, and basically sound like a writer, then somehow it seems like it will be a lot cooler? Which reminds me, I need to practice sounding like a writer. I'm horrible at that.

Oh, alright, alright, I know what you are waiting to hear. I'm sorry. Not that anyone reads this, or that those who do care, but still. I'M SO SORRY. To be honest, I never did a daily writing piece after the last one I posted. But it grew tiresome, and besides, I came up with a story idea. Which, because I feel so guilty, I decided I will share with you. But I will likely take it down after a few days, due to fear of thievery. I know my ideas are hardly worth stealing, nor is my writing, but I would still rather not take the chance. I trust you guys, which is why I'll put it up in the first place.

Okay, so I didn't do a DWP. Hardly worth over a month's absence. I suppose it was a combination of school, dance, homework, lazy fingers, and worst of all, a computer that is so bad that I consider it to be broken. I will use my laptop for half an hour, and it will have frozen on me at least five times already, and by then it will freeze so bad that it will crash. And then it will take a few hours before I can turn it back on. Being an impatient person, I can't work with that. So my parent's computers are just as bad as my own, and besides, I don't want to base my computer hours off of theirs, because they are always using their own. And the keyboard for the one that is free more of the time is a really old one, and you have to press harder on the keys to type, and I hate it so much, I make typos all the time. Plus it freezes. And lags. And I can't keep anything open on that because "it slows other things down." Really? I mean, that is most likely true, but I can't function having to open things up every single time. Especially with computers that slow. It will take ten minutes to check my homework, ten minutes to open up FB, ten minutes for anything, and a few days before I finish writing a single post for here. Unbearable. So basically, I got lazy and stopped coming altogether. Which I deeply regret.

This month, I will try to reach 20 posts. I have never done that so far. But I will this month. Watch me. I think I highest I have gotten is 17 or 18. That's barely writing every other day. Shameful. I will post more, if only for my own sake.

Anyway, let's skip to something worthwhile. My latest story idea. This is the first draft of my idea, so remember, things will not stay this way, it IS BAD.

Desmond, Nathan, and Lacy are three siblings who find themselves in another world, called Morïem, which is in desperate need of help. The land that they find themselves in, Erom, is in total chaos because of the recent disappearance of their four rulers. The eldest, Ethan, a man who held the power over the earth, is dead, his two younger sisters, Wendy and Aqua, who once controlled the wind and the seas, are gone to a place from where they can never return, nor can anyone follow, and the fourth, the youngest brother, Firenze, the one who blazed with fire, is still around but doesn’t want to be seen. In the absence of these once powerful and loved kings and queens, many men are slaughtering and killing each other and innocent people in the hopes of gaining enough power to take command over the ruined land. Now these three children have been brought in amidst battle and war, and they must fix the chaos before even they, too, lose their lives to something they should not have been part of. They tentatively befriend one of the princes fighting, Elnair, who turns out not to be half as horrible and mean as they had thought. With his help, and with the advice and prophecy of a wise man name Solomon, they journey to find the last king, Firenze, for he holds knowledge of the second part of the prophecy, without which they cannot survive.

However, in the midst of chaos, no one has noticed the disappearance of several innocent villagers. Little do they know that an evil sorceress, Jade Darkstone, is the root of all the evil. With her faithful servant, Aries, beside her, she sets out to corrupt the world before finally taking over and crushing them all. She starts by having him murder as many citizens as he can in a short period of time.

While the three children and Elnair are journeying, they get unfortunately separated in the middle of the desert, Nathan and Lacey starving from not having Elnair to guide and take care of them. During that time, Desmond and Elnair come across an oasis, where they meet a girl who allows them to stay while she and her people go looking for Nathan and Lacey. After days of struggling, they are finally reunited, but only just before Aries comes and whisks Nathan, who turns out to be a traitor, away to the “protection” of his liege. Elnair, Desmond, and Lacey continue on to find Firenze and convince him to reveal himself once more and to join them in their fight. It is then that they learn of Jade and realize where the true danger lies. They prepare an army with the help of Elnair’s good childhood friend, Azura, who despite being sweet and helpful, had never thought anything of herself, always letting the littlest things upset her. She is glad to finally be able to do something, and not just sit around and cry herself to sleep. She has also always sort of liked Elnair, but known he had more important things to do.

Soon their army and Jade’s army meet, and Nathan is returned to them,  miserable and in battered shape. Not only is their brother returned, but they realize that Aries is not happy with what he had been doing, Nathan’s imprisonment reminding him how civilized life is and making him wistful. It is also then discovered that when he was a boy, before he had been trained by Jade, he had been as close as a brother to Elnair. Although this new discovery doesn’t ease the relationship between them anymore, it eases Elnair’s heart to realize he still had some sort of a brother, after his own was killed not too long before.

The armies do not end up fighting, but end up retreating to decide what their plan is. And Aries passes useful information to them before leaving with Jade, because he knows he will be instantly killed should he choose to abandon her. Even still, he is reformed.

Erom’s army is joined by a neighboring land’s, Ceradis’s. They had passed through the land while trying to find Firenze, and the two main military leaders, Char and Fawn, had been told of the predicament. Also, their people had been slaughtered due to the sorceress, and they wanted just as much to defeat her.

Solomon reappears then, and they puzzle out the prophecy, before finally realizing that Jade is in search of a magical broken light bulb from the normal world where the three children come from. If she gets a hold of it, then the chances of truly defeating her are hopeless. They find out where it is, and how to get to it.

First, there was a mountain next to a lake, and the light bulb was inside it. So Elnair, Desmond, and Nathan travel to the mountain. There is no way to get inside, yet somehow there had been tunnels and ruins of an ancient civilization in the heart of the mountain. And in the center of it all, was the light bulb. Since there was no way to get inside, Elnair teaches them the ways of dream travel, where you go to sleep and in your dreams you can go wherever you want. Unfortunately, you can die even in that state, and whatever injuries you retain while dreaming stays with you. So you have to be just as careful. But you can also wake up anytime you want, which will protect you, even though then you will have to start from the beginning again, which will get you nowhere. With every turn in the maze, there is an obstacle of some sort, and most of the time, Desmond and Nathan and fighting for their lives while trying to reach the light bulb. Meanwhile, Elnair remains awake, watching over their bodies, ready to awake them in case anything goes wrong. When the pair finally do reach the light bulb, they encounter Aries, who had been told to get it himself. After much hesitation and fighting, Desmond and Nathan retrieve it and leave. They go back to where the army is, and where Lacey is, and show them. But the next morning, they wake up to find it gone.

While the three were gone, Lacey had been befriending the warriors in their army, and learning how to properly wield a sword, and a bow and arrow. She and Azura become very close then, and Lacey becomes a favorite among them. She also spends time speaking with Solomon and learning more about Morïem in general.

Yeah. Still working on it! Don't worry.

Anyway, so I was thinking of retrying fan fiction. I was think Warriors or Narnia, or both. Tell me what you think in the comments here, in the chat box to the side, or in the poll that I will put up in a second. Yup, so critique! Review! HELP.