Snow White Writing is a writing segment where I write about my writing journey and share some of my works as well.
It’s been a long, long while since my last proper SWW post, and since I’m working (properly for once!) on an original novel, I thought, why not share it with all of you? Especially since I’m writing it to improve my writing skills. As always, constructive criticism is welcomed!
NOTE: This work belongs to me. Please do not steal, copy, etc. Sharing (please inform me when you do so) is fine as long as you link back to this WordPress and include my name.
AAREN’S FACE BURNED in humiliation when Howl threw her head back and roared with laughter. His shoulders raised, his nails dug into his palms and his blue eyes darted past her quaking shoulders. Even Enki the Great Wolf who had paid no heed to their conversation, raised his head in interest at his companion’s outburst.
“Look, thanks for the joke but you need to do more research before trying that angle,” Howl grinned toothily, patting Aaren’s shoulder as though she were the taller one between the both of them. “My old man kicked the bucket a decade ago. He can’t be pulling the shit you’re saying when he’s rotting in his grave.”
“I-I’m not joking! The Great Sages told me to—”
“Find me and warn me that the old fart pissed some asshole off so I’ve to fix it,” Howl finished, picking the ends of her dark locks to inspect for splits. Her good mood had snuffed out like a candle’s flame and was now replaced by a growing annoyance towards the lanky blond in front of her.
“I’m not doing anything,” she cut him off once more, only this time more firmly. Her fingers had stopped playing with her hair and her mismatched eyes were stern. It took every ounce of self-control Aaren had to not stomp his feet like a child. He could feel the beginnings of his blue eyes watering. Everything was going further south before he could even form a full sentence, and it hurt more than the times he got hurt by the people who hated his weakness. He hadn’t thought that Howl would brush him off like some stray fleck of dirt, hadn’t thought she’d look at him like he was just some typical hero-worshiping kid. When he was led to the Glade of Aiolos by one of the Asena wolves, he had been filled to the brim with awe. He had been proud that he was worthy enough to walk so deep into their forest when a great many would’ve been chased off kilometers before they even knew where they were heading. When Howl and her equally famous companion, Enki arrived, he had nearly combusted from all the overwhelming emotions churning inside him. Aaren wished that someone had warned him, wished that someone else had been sent instead. Howl in fiction was better than Howl in reality.
“If you know me well enough, you’d know that my old man and I were never on the best of terms. Whatever shit he did isn’t my problem, especially shit that’s conveniently happening near his death day. He’s got other children you can bother for that.”
“But, you’re the only one who can fight!”
The entire sentence had burst out from Aaren and Howl was taken aback. He used those quick seconds to rush the rest of his words. “The Necklace of Harmonia has reappeared. The Seer saw the destruction of Iscadora, Apollo spoke through the Oracle, and the Great Sages concluded that your father held it last. As we speak right now, a plague is beginning to spread and several more unnatural occurrences—”
Aaren’s mouth snapped shut and he lowered his head. The red markings on Howl’s skin seemed to have brightened as she scowled at him.
“Enki and I have heard nothing about a plague or whatever nonsense you’re spouting. Leave and don’t come back.”
Once the final word left her lips, she turned her back to him and marched towards where Enki rested. At once, the tears Aaren had been holding back came free and he hated himself more and more. He knew he was weak but the Great Sages had trusted him with this message. They believed that he could gain Howl’s assistance with such a dire matter but he had failed. Again.
‘Everyone will be disappointed,’ he reminded himself bitterly, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. He could almost hear the taunting voices of the children calling him a crybaby—could already see Catigern’s disapproving scowl and sharp gaze telling him to man-up. Nobody liked weaklings who couldn’t do more rights than wrongs. Last week, he had accidentally knocked into Cara while she was bringing food over to a table, causing everything to crash onto the floor. The day after, he had unintentionally leaned on a wall of wet paint and ruined Mr Joe’s hard work. On his way here, he had lost the steed he was loaned because it got spooked by a dead snake and ran off after throwing him off of its back. If the villagers didn’t tolerate him, Aaren knew that he would’ve been chased out of his home, no matter that he was actually a good farmer boy or that his mother was one of the most well-liked people in the village.
Sniffling, Aaren watched Howl motion for Enki to follow her. Soon, they would be gone from his sight and—
A hard force knocked into Aaren’s chest first, followed by a scalding barrage on his back. His vision swam and bile rose up his throat. There was a chaos of noises in the background but he couldn’t make them out. Another force shoved him to the side before he puked, shuddered and cried. This was the worse pain he had ever been in—worse than the time he accidentally slipped from a tree and cracked his head opened, or the time he learnt the hard way not to swim in angry waters.
“…fucking hell, stupid son…bitch…why…”
“Clothes,” he rasped, shakily holding himself up so he wouldn’t fall face-first into his puddle of regurgitated food and hydrochloric acid. “Please…don’t let…heal…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence.