Small Magic

[Josette]

There was something so pretentious about castles.

So many of the castles Josette had visited were flashy affairs. They loomed far taller than they needed to, clearly compensating for something, if you asked her. Ornate stained glass caught the sun, spilling colorful patterns of light into long hallways. Tapestries adorned the walls, rugs lined the floors, and suits of armor that had never seen battle stood guard over nearly every room. Castles were fine, Josette admitted, when serving their intended purpose. These castles were for entertaining, for showing off, not for withstanding an attack. They cried, “look at me, I have enough money for twenty-seven horse-hair couches, an indoor grotto, and countless paintings of regal-looking people I have never met.”

This castle at least, Josette decided, was not the worst she had seen. The gardens were small, consisting of only the heartiest flowers and shrubs; no doubt there were only a handful of warm weeks in the Salvarian summer. She could see no stained glass, and there were no unnecessarily high towers to speak of. Yet the stone that formed the structure, while old, appeared nearly perfect. This castle, by Josette’s estimate, had seen hundreds of years of peace. What was the point? she thought dryly.

The same thought could be applied to the situation she found herself in. Josette Hawkes, brightest mind of her class, and certainly the best swordswoman, babysitting a royal brat. Her jaw worked as she reflected on it. What business did she have escorting a little girl anyway? Given the mass destruction she had been party to only a week before, she was better off escaping to a different region of Althanas entirely. That had been her plan, but when she had noticed the bulletin in the small town she was hunkered down in, the money was far too good to pass up. The work would be easy, and the pay would keep her set for months. More importantly, it would help her escape the prying eyes of Salvar. But that did not mean that the arcane knight was eager to tow a child around.

Josette heaved a sigh, raking long, thin fingers through her raven hair. The sudden movement startled the horse who stood beside her, and while he was too well-mannered to rear, he gave a snort of discomfort. Her heart, and her expression, softened. “Sorry,” she murmured, watching the bay gelding’s big ears cease their nervous swiveling, now entirely tuned into her. “I did not mean to scare you.”

Her mount gave a low nicker, akin to an annoyed grumble, and she could not help but laugh. “I appreciate the forgiveness,” she told him, fingers now reaching to scratch under his curb strap. The neatly trimmed whiskers told her that the horse had been recently cleaned up for his job. At least she could appreciate the attention they paid to their horses. So many others did not.

To her other side, a second gelding appeared to doze; his left rear hoof hovered lazily just above the hard-packed earth. This one was a soft gray, which played a sharp contrast to the black saddle and bridle he wore. This would be the princess’ mount, clearly mild-mannered enough to handle even a young girl. Josette hoped her charge knew how to ride. It would be a long three days if she had to keep chasing the girl down when her horse spooked, or scooping her up if she was thrown. Josette loosed another sigh, though this one was quieter, so not to frighten the horse. Who was she fooling? It would be a long three days regardless.

[Nicolette]

Just inside the castle, a young woman and an old man faced off.

“I will be fine!” Nicolette rounded on Alexander, finding his mouth open, one scolding finger lifted in the air. It seemed she had predicted his words before he found them, which took little skill, as they had practiced this routine dozens of times. His expression tore a peel of laughter from her. “Heavens, Alex,” she managed between giggles, “you behave as if I am going traipsing all over Althanas.”

“It certainly feels that way sometimes.” His confession came with a small, yet genuine smile. “It feels as if you spend more time away from home than you spend here.”

As her adoptive father rarely displayed emotion, even the smallest hints of sadness or regret were never lost on her. Her small hand patted his arm gently, as if to reassure. “I will be fine,” she said again. "You are as bad as Josephine with your fussing over me."

At this, Alexander's smile grew. "So long as I am not as bad as Theodore." Theodore was Josephine's husband, and the Boyar of Caershire. While Alexander had full custody of Nicolette, Theodore and Josephine had been as close as family after her own parents had died.

Nicolette beamed back. "No," she agreed, "you are not that bad. But you are close." She stretched up to give the man a kiss on his whiskered cheek. As she pulled away, he caught her arm.

"Listen," he murmured. "I know as well as anyone what it means to travel for work. I am so proud of you, Letty, for following in my footsteps. I am proud of the woman that you are becoming." At eighteen, she was already a woman, but she saw no need to interrupt one of Alexander's rare sentimental moments. "But I do worry," he continued. "I worry even more because you do not have Xander with you."

"Xander had to go ahead to Knife's Edge, to make preparations for the conference." Kindly, she added, "you know it was necessary for him to meet the other delegates. And you interviewed the woman who is meant to escort me yourself. You know I am in good hands." Excitement lit her amber eyes at the thought, and she added, "what is she like?"

"Quiet," came Alexander's knee-jerk response. "Sturdy. Young, but she is a knight, and has excellent references."

"Young?" Nicolette echoed with wonder. "A knight?"

This response was what Alexander had hoped for when he hired on Josette Hawkes. "And she is outside, waiting for you."

With a squeal that was far from regal, and altogether too childish, Nicolette enveloped her guardian in a fierce hug, and all but flew to the front courtyard.

[Josette]

A wooden door to her right was thrown open, and a woman like golden sunshine poured out of it. Her pale skin seemed to shimmer beneath the summer sun. Her long blonde hair was so thin, so fine, that it flowed out behind her. It continued to hover even as she slowed to a halt.

"Josephine?" the knight inquired slowly, glancing around her to check for a child. Was the tiny princess in tow?

The stranger blinked back, but as realization dawned, she shook her head. "I am flattered, truly," she stated, "that you might confuse me for someone so lovely. But no, I am afraid not. I am Nicolette."

Now the confused expression leapt to Josette's face. "What?" she stammered. Her rigid calm fell away as she grappled with the truth. Forgetting herself, she demanded, "how old are you?"

"Eighteen, " Nicolette answered easily. The question no longer offended; a lifetime of being wise beyond her years desensitized Nicolette to such things.

Only a year younger than herself, Josette thought. She shook her head, as if to help rid it of the panicked confusion and creeping embarrassment. Back to business, she commanded. Back to the familiar. "Your bag has already been secured to your saddle. Am I to understand the rest of your belongings were sent ahead?"

Nicolette nodded, sending fine strands of her golden hair floating. "Yes. Xander took it with him when he left last week."

A love interest? Josette mused with only mild interest, and even that died away quickly. It was none of her business. "Alright then," she said plainly, unsure of what other formalities required attending to. She was just as happy to be on her way. "Do you need help mounting?"

Someone with less class, and less kindness, might have berated Josette for such a question. Having grown up among royalty, it could be assumed that Nicolette knew how to ride. This was especially true in her case, as all locals knew the Boyar's affinity for the four-legged companions. Nicolette had ridden her first horse within a week after being taken into the man's care. But Josette, clearly a foreigner, would have no knowledge of this. And besides, belittling others was something the soft-spoken young lady tended to avoid.

"No, thank you," she replied, finally. "I have ridden a few times." There was no sarcasm in her tone, and the only indication that she had undersold herself was the natural ease with which she swung into the saddle. Josette was impressed, and though she thought as much as she mounted herself, her expression remain placid. The pair fell into silence as their geldings marched, stride for stride, toward the southern gate.

[Nicolette]

Though the landscape was familiar, Nicolette found immense pleasure in merely observing as they moved along. Towering firs and swaying maples dotted the landscape in equal parts. The rolling hills they climbed and crested grew steeper to their north and west, approaching the Sulgoran Steppes and Wolves Fang mountains. For as long as she could remember, Letty had been enchanted by the nature that surrounded her; she had always felt at home among the whispering leaves and the winding paths. This had been especially true after her parents had died. The castle had become her home, but she had found solace in the wilderness first.

"This is Wolf Trail," she explained conversationally, turning in her saddle to face her companion. Not a single word had passed between them in three hours. The quiet had not fazed Nicolette, as she was content to enjoy the scenery. But as she watched Josette flinch, startled by the sudden comment, the blonde realized that the other woman had been far, far away.

She spoke again, softer now. "Or did you already know that?"

"No," Josette muttered, slipping back into her cool composure as if it were a change of clothes.

Nicolette nodded. "So you're not from around here.

The answer came again, and just as short as before. "No."

Alexander said she was quiet, Nicolette reminded herself. There was no reason why the girl should be offended or upset by her escort's curt, businesslike behavior. She had hoped to inquire about Josette's hometown, as curiosity now had its sharp talons in her, but she decided against it. Pushing a woman who already did not care to speak could only end poorly.

The blonde loosened her hold on the reins, letting them droop lazily, and giving her gelding his head. With an appreciative snort, the horse gave a toss of his dappled gray mane. She laughed. "It has been a while since I have taken Willem for this long of a ride," she told Josette. "We used to spend hours roaming Caershire, but I am just too busy these days." Her sigh was soft and filled with nostalgia. "I certainly miss the freedom sometimes."

Though she turned to watch the trail ahead, she studied Josette from the corner of her eye. If anything Nicolette had said had piqued the woman's interest, she gave no indication. She remained expressionless, her features seemingly carved of stone. Wondering how someone could be so uptight on such a beautiful morning, Nicolette tried again. "Your gelding's name is Maxus. Theodore, the Boyar, rides him quite often." She had thrown his title in for Josette's benefit. "He is a great horse."

"He is," the knight agreed.

Josette said nothing more, but Nicolette had to turn away to hide her small smile of success. Perhaps they had finally found some common ground to stand on.

[Josette]

Theodore, the Boyar, Josette mused when Nicolette finally fell silent. Not father, or dad, but a name and a title. This intrigued the woman, though there was no outward display of that fact. And what did a princess know of being busy? Castles were strange, she reminded herself, and so were the folk who lived within their stone walls.

She let the heels of her boots drop in the stirrups, settling her deeper into her seat. It was a nice saddle, wide and smooth, a far cry from the mere slips of leather she had used during training. Her ride was an easy one, and without any uncomfortable aches, or unsettling jolts from her mild-tempered mount, Josette was able to slip back into memory.

The events of the previous week had left a stain on Salvar that she worried would never be scrubbed clean. The Boyar of a nearby province had assembled a band of mercenaries, meant to collect payment from an especially troublesome town. As the people fell within his jurisdiction, they were required to pay his taxes, and they had refused. Or, at least, that was what that fat man had claimed.

Recommended by one of her teachers, a good friend of the Boyar's, Josette had joined the other woman, and two men, who made up the assault team. The Boyar had commanded them to ride up the mountain, and force the mayor to give up the gold, or else be removed from his post. They had been encouraged to "use force, if necessary," and "scare the townspeople a bit." Whatever it took to collect.

But all of it had been a lie. Josette had watched in horror as an entire town was razed to the ground. The screams, the blood, the great busts of magic and light - she could see it all so clearly. The scene played back to her whenever she closed her eyes, and she somehow knew she would never rid herself of the carnage.

"Penny for your thoughts?" For a second time, Nicolette's voice yanked Josette back to the present.

"Pardon?"

Nicolette's smile was mixed parts encouraging and sheepish. "I just wondered what it was you were thinking about. Where it was that your mind went." Why it was you looked so pained.

There was a beat of hesitation, and then, "it is nothing that you could understand."

"Oh?" Amused curiosity lifted the blonde's brows. "No?"

"No." There was a finality in the answer that slammed the door on further discussion.

But Nicolette would have the last word. "Well," she commented cheerfully, "I suppose it is a good thing that you have kept it to yourself then." It was uncharacteristically snarky of her, and it had gone against her better judgment. Then again, so had her question.

[Nicolette]

Dusk fell with a quiet grace. "We should stop," Josette announced. The sky had only just begun to change, bright blues giving way to warm reds, but she knew better than to wait too long. Setting up a sturdy camp, and establishing a perimeter, were their first priorities; it would not do to wait until the sun was any lower in the sky. This was especially true if Wolf Trail lived up to it's name.

Josette slowed, dismounted, and waited until her charge did the same. "I do not camp much," Nicolette admitted, "so I am not entirely sure what needs to be done now."

Typical, the knight grumbled inwardly, but merely said, "I see."

Nicolette moved to her gelding's head, giving the gray an affectionate kiss on his soft, velvet nose. "I would like to help though, if you provide me direction. I could look after Maxus for you, get him settled in while you put camp together."

Her observant eyes did not miss the way that Josette tensed, and the possessive hand that moved to the bay's bridle. "I can handle my own horse." There was fire in that reply, one of the few slips of emotion that the black-haired woman had shown all day.

Unable to help herself, Nicolette murmured, "you care deeply for horses."

It was not a question, and the gentle, patient tone sparked more heat in Josette's typically ice-blue eyes. "They make travel easier," she shot back, her temper flaring. But for all the venom in her voice, there was only tenderness in the hand she stroked down Maxus' warm neck.

This fact was not lost on Nicolette either. Her smile was both knowing and understanding as she replied, "that they are."

With the quick efficiency of a trained soldier, Josette set up camp. The horses were untacked, rubbed down, and sent to graze. Firewood was collected, assembled into a sturdy tepee, and lit. And as the pleasant crackle and pop of a healthy fire joined the chorus of night noises, preparations for dinner began.

Multiple times, Nicolette had tried to aid her companion, volunteering to find kindling, or carry water from the nearby river. Each offer had been met with a hard “no,” and a harder stare. Though the woman considered herself far from paranoid, she began to wonder if she had done something to upset Josette.

“Can I help?” she asked once more, watching the knight through the dancing flames.

Once more, Josette shook her head. This time, she lifted the blade she was using to slice bread from the hard loaf; it glittered menacingly in the shifting golden light. “It is sharp.”

Nicolette’s eyes narrowed, as the comment had finally struck a chord. “I am eighteen years old,” she stated, her voice even. “I am no longer at risk of slicing off a hand every time I use a sharp knife.”

[Josette]

Josette's broad shoulders rose and fell. "Perhaps, Princess," she answered, "but I prefer to do it myself."

There was a flash of anger in Nicolette's normally gentle eyes. Though Josette could never know it, conflicting emotions clashed within the blonde. One part of her assumed that the knight simply misunderstood the situation, just as she had earlier that morning. It warred with the other part, which fumed at the way "princess" was spat at her. In the end, her retort was thick with insult. "I am no princess."

Tired by the ride, and quickly losing hold on the limited patience she possessed, Josette sighed. "Whatever your title is."

"I have no title. I am not royalty, despite what you seem to think."

Josette scowled through the fire at the other woman. She had no tolerance for dishonesty. This was a job, but she did not have to put up with blatant lies. "I spoke with your father," she growled. "I know who you are."

"My father?" Cold, calculating, Nicolette sneered back. The expression was one that she rarely wore; even the fire's warmth could not protect Josette from the air's sudden chill. "My father is dead."

The sharp lash of anger in her tone, and in her eyes, rid Josette of all doubt. The same confusion that she had experienced upon their first meeting stained her cheeks crimson. "But the interview." She was never flustered, never allowed herself to become so, but she found herself fighting to keep from stammering. "The Boyar. Your father."

"The man you spoke to was Alexander Morgan. He works in the castle, but he is not the Boyar, and he is not my father. He is my guardian. He took me in after my father killed my mother, and then himself."

"I assumed-"

"And that was your mistake." Nicolette's long, delicate fingers were clenched into fists in her lap. "Stop assuming things about me. Stop leaping to whatever conclusions best fit your preconceived notions. I deserve better than that."

From far off, a lone wolf cried in the darkness. It was a shame, Josette thought, that even the mighty wolf could never compare to the fierceness that she found in Nicolette at that moment.

"My parents are dead too." The words had fled Josette's lips before she could stop them. It was pathetic, she knew, to use her misfortune as a crutch, as an excuse. She had never permit herself to do such a thing, but just then, it was all she could do.

Even in the dim firelight, Josette could see Nicolette's jaw working. Then, like the unfurling of a flower's petals, her expression relaxed. "It is not easy," she said softly.

"No," Josette answered. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "No, it is not."

They fell into silence, but it was a different silence than had plagued them before. Despite the nerves, the confusion, the fire that separated them, the two young women were somehow closer now than they had ever been before.

[Nicolette]

Slivers of anger still lingered, even as Nicolette secured her bedroll to her saddle the following morning. But they were fading. Save for a few slips of smalltalk, the evening had been largely uneventful. They had tucked in early, and while Nicolette had slept well, she had woken to Josette's restless pacing more than once. When morning had arrived, the knight had allowed her companion to help with the pack-up process. There had been no verbal invitation, but a sort of quiet yielding; dishes were left by the fire after breakfast, and Willem's tack remained untouched. Her actions were her apology, which helped to cool Nicolette's temper.

She is broken, Nicolette reflected, glancing over her horse's withers to watch Josette saddle Maxus. And while being broken did not make people faultless, it earned them at least one second chance. That much, she decided finally, she could do.

"You ride well," she commented after Josette had swung expertly into the saddle.

The knight blinked back at her, shrugged uncomfortably, and muttered, "thank you."

Nicolette mounted up as well, mirroring her escort's motions. "Have you been riding long?" she asked, sliding the smooth leather reins through her fingers as she collected her horse's head.

Deeming it an innocent enough question, Josette nodded. "I have, yes." Her face revealed nothing, but she was also encouraged by the relief that warmed her; Nicolette had reason enough to remain furious, and Josette knew she had been wrong. If answering a simple question would be enough to appease her charge, perhaps it would be worth it. She was rewarded with Nicolette's warm smile.

"I suspected," the blonde replied. "Where is it that you learned to ride?" Nicolette knew that Josette was working to get back in her good graces, and while she would never take advantage of someone in such a vulnerable state, she hoped discussing their common ground might further mend their relationship. Or, better yet, build one where nothing had existed before.

The knight shifted her reins from one hand to the other as she tugged at the sleeves of her tunic. Summer's wide reach had painted the county-side pleasant shades of green, and migratory birds were already settled into their favorite roosts. But even in the heart of Salvar's warmest season, the morning held a chill. It felt even cooler as Josette grappled with the answer to her question. "I taught myself," she admitted finally. It was no lie, though it did only tell half the story.

Yet it satisfied Nicolette. "That is even more impressive," she told her partner. She figured no one had ever complimented Josette on her riding; things that came as naturally as breathing often stopped seeming like a skill to cultivate. Sometimes, they become a part of a person's identity, part of life itself. Horses had saved Nicolette's life, just as much as Alexander and the Langdons had. Watching Josette absentmindedly wind her fingers through a lock of Maxus' mane, Nicolette knew it was something else that they shared.

[Josette]

"I was taught to ride by Theodore," Nicolette continued. A light smirk turned her lips as she added, "he is the Boyer, not my father, in case you wished to know."

Though Josette knew it was a dig at her, the humor in the young advisor's eyes glimmered like the sun through the leaves. Such a thing should be taken good-naturedly, she deduced. Reading people had never been among her greatest strengths. In fact, it would not be entirely inaccurate to say interacting with people at all left Josette feeling entirely out of her depth. She preferred situations more black and white, and emotions merely worked to complicate that. Decisions were easy, Josette had always believed. People, however, were not.

"I see," she replied finally. There was quiet again, if such thing was possible in Salvar's summer. Birds chirped, insects hummed, leaves murmured the name the wind. The plod of their horses' hooves on the packed earth kept a steady three-beat rhythm. But no words passed between the escort and the escorted, until Nicolette finally spoke.

"Do you know how I came to live in the castle?"

It was easier than asking "do you know why my parents were killed," though that was still implied. And perhaps Nicolette had known that the question had kept Josette awake the night before. But it was unlike the knight to pry. It was also unlike her companion to let a person go on suffering.

Without giving Josette time to reply, Nicolette began to explain. "When I was ten years old, my father shot and killed my mother, before turning the gun on himself." Her voice was measured, even, and practiced. "He did not know that I was in the room. I remember my parents well, and my father was not the sort of man who would expose a child to that."

So much was left unspoken with that single sentence. What sort of man would expose a child to a life without parents? A life as an orphan? Josette's lips drew together in a thin white line, but her thoughts remained her own as Nicolette continued.

"I was taken into the custody of our small town's mayor, though only for a short while. As it turned out, the Boyar and his wife were also staying in Waylem. Josephine has a reputation for taking in strays." A small smile curved her lips. "And I suppose that was what I was at the time. They took me to the castle, and introduced me to Alexander. He is a life-long bachelor, but he secretly wished to have children, so I became his charge."

There was something so violently personal about the tale Nicolette told, and Josette found herself unable to keep quiet. "This is none of my business," she muttered, her gaze remaining on the trail ahead.

"Maybe not," Nicolette agreed softly. "But it was my story to tell." And now, they both knew the truth.

[Nicolette]

The shared knowledge had come at a cost. Nicolette watched Josette shift awkwardly in her saddle, unsure of what to do with the newly acquired information. Even if her question had been answered, the story of Nicolette's parents' death did not leave an opening for any normal conversation. Josette's uncomfortable expression was mirrored in her mount. Maxus snorted uneasily, his steps high, eyes rolling. His rider was nervous, Nicolette mused, so he became nervous as well. It was amazing how receptive horses were, even if no pressure was applied by spur or bit.

"The horses feel a bit restless," Nicolette murmured, thinking both the girl and her mount could benefit from a change of pace. "Would you want to let them run?" At Josette's nod, Nicolette moved her left heel forward, shifted her weight, and kissed to her gelding.

Then they were flying. It was a sensation she knew she would never tire of, and after she filled her lungs with the crisp morning air, she could not stifle her soft whoop of pleasure. They thundered up and over the nearest hill, sharp hooves sending clumps of grass careening out behind them. Nicolette leaned forward, inching her hands up the reins, and weaving her fingers in Willem's mane as it flapped wildly. A sideways glance revealed that Josette matched her stride-for-stride. She rode in a similar fashion, lifted up and out of the saddle to push her mount forward. And her expression, typically cold ice, was warmed by a brilliant smile.

The girls and their horses raced until they were all trembling and out of breath. Nicolette settled into her saddle first, slowing Willem to a bumpy trot, and then a smooth walk; Josette, reluctantly, followed suit. Together, they finally took pause to scan their surroundings.

"Wow," Nicolette breathed. "We are way off track."

Suddenly reminded of her reason for escorting the blonde, Josette frowned. "How do you know?"

With a sweeping gesture, the Salvarian motioned to the nearest landform. It was an enormous plateau, rich brown in color, towering high above them. "We should be riding along the Wolves Fang mountains," she explained. "They would be on our right side. But now we have this, on our left."

The raven-haired mercenary's frown deepened to a scowl. "What is this?"

Nicolette paused, deliberated, and shrugged. "I am sure that it has a name, but I do not know it. I do recognize the area though. I have ridden by it many times. We just veered too far north." Now her voice was reassuring, comforting. "It will be an easy fix."

Josette considered, then nodded. "Alright." She turned her gelding, positioning herself to leave the lofty cliff-faces in her wake. Maxum still sported a thin layer of sweat, so she knew better than to move into another gallop. But just as asked him for an easy jog, Nicolette's startled voice stopped her.

"Josette," she called. "Do you see that?"

[Josette]

Years of training, and years of survival, tore through Josette at the question. Her spine went rigid, blue eyes narrowing, right hand crossing her body to grip the sword on her left hip. "Where?" she barked.

Nicolette pointed, and Josette's sharp gaze followed her finger. It was not until she had been watching for a full thirty seconds that she finally relaxed. The horses that loped toward her were riderless; there was no approaching army, and they had not ridden into an ambush. Instead, they had ridden into a herd of wild horses.

"Look at them!" Nicolette squealed. She dropped her reins, cupped both hands to her chest, and nearly hummed with excitement. "I have been riding the province for years, and I have never seen wild horses before. This is incredible."

And it was. Even Josette found herself awestruck, slowly releasing her hold on her sword's hilt. "I have never seen wild horses either," she mumbled. "I always hoped to."

The gray gelding eased up beside the bay, Nicolette flashing her new friend a smile. "Today is your lucky day."

Together, the pair observed in silence. There were nearly thirty horses in all, their colors ranging from inky blacks to shimmering, golden palominos. At the same time she heard Nicolette coo, Josette spotted five young foals. They could only be a few months old, confident on their impossibly thin legs, but still plodding close to their mothers. Their pitiful slips of tail were not long enough to ward off flies, but they still flicked back and forth cheerfully.

The knight had seen so much evil in her life. She had witnessed violence, death, and loss for as long as she could remember, and at the young age of thirteen, she had played her own role in it. But the scene before her was so innocent, so genuine, so good; her heart swelled with it.

Perhaps that explained the pure fury that exploded within her when she spotted the massive gray monster. It crept on all fours, hunched close to the earth, its feline tail snapping through the air like a whip. It was larger than a mountain lion, perhaps four hundred pounds, and five foot tall at the shoulder. It was still six hundred feet off, by her best estimate, but she could imagine its beady eyes honing in on the baby horses. When Josette turned back to the herd, she watched a pair of fuzzy foals peel off, and chase each other closer to her. Closer to the beast.

"What is that?" Nicolette demanded, having turned to follow her companion's gaze.

Josette spat her answer. "A Cassarian. They are carnivores that prey on just about anything they can find. They are more or less enormous cats." She eased her sword from its sheath with a metallic hiss. "Has Maxum seen any combat?"

"You are going after it?" Nicolette's concern for the horses, as fierce as it was, was eclipsed by her concern for her escort. "The horses will protect themselves, will they not?"

With a sharp tug of the reins, the mercenary startled her mount from the lazy lull he had fallen into. "Cassarians stalk their pray in complete silence. If this one sticks close to the cliffs, in the shadows, it could get close enough before the horses even realize." She could not take that chance. She could not let the evil win again.

[Nicolette]

There was no chance for Nicolette to argue. Horrified, she watched Josette plunge her heels into Maxus' side. The gelding leapt forward, muscles rippling beneath his brown coat, surging into the space between the Cassarian and the herd. Josette hardly moved in the saddle, her rigid posture an outward expression of her entire being. The blade she extended to her side gleamed dangerously in the sun.

It was all happening too fast for Nicolette. She preferred to meticulously plan, ensuring that nothing could possibly go wrong. Josette had not provided her with the opportunity to do so, and as she saw the knight draw closer to the gray beast, she could only imagine the terrible possibilities.

Josette, however, had let her mind go entirely blank. She was driven only by anger, and the raw power that rumbled beneath her. When she heard the approaching hoofbeats behind her, her temper mounted. Why was Nicolette following her? "Get back!" she shouted, glancing over her shoulder at the other woman. But it was not the advisor, or her gray horse, that she found.

It was an enormous buckskin mare. She fell in stride beside Maxum, but at seventeen hands, or sixty eight inches from the withers, she dwarfed the shorter gelding. Her black mane and tail, accented with thin strands of white, flapped wildly, and her large ears were laced to her skull. Anger, power, and control rolled off the incredible horse as she dug in, found another burst of speed, and galloped past. It was fortunate that her mount was able to remain focused, as Josette was nearly rendered dumbstruck at the sight.

The other horse reached the Cassarian first, issuing a shrill squeal of warning as she lashed out with her hind legs. The attack did not land, as a short distance and small stream still separated them, but the message was clear - come any closer, and you will have to go through me. Perhaps Nicolette had been right, and the herd could fend for itself.

But when the Cassarian slashed out at the mare, a low, threatening growl issuing a challenge of its own, Josette admitted to herself she could not stand idly by. Her right leg swung up over the front of the saddle, allowing her to slide easily to the earth. She dedicated a moment to ensuring the reins would not slip over Maxus' head, then gave the gelding a firm pat on rear. "Go!" she shouted at him, and was relieved to see him lope back toward the waiting Nicolette. It was a well-trained horse indeed, and she would be sure to thank the Boyar for that when she returned.

[Josette]

Now the woman turned back to the fight, her shoulders squared, her right hand white-knuckling the hilt of her sword. The stream that babbled to her right was perhaps ten feet wide, and only a handful of feet deep. A few silvery fish moseyed just beneath the surface, completing what might be a paradise under other circumstances. Josette, already prepared for war, saw only an opportunity.

She hated magic, and had for as long as she could remember. It was far less reliable than cold steel, and affected reputations in a way that simple swordsmanship never had; entire populations of people shunned those who dabbled in such "witchcraft." And after watching a mercenary group level a town using magic, her reservations were stronger than ever. Yet she knew she would be a fool not to use her abilities when the situation demanded it.

So when the Cassarian finally lunged, his front paws plunging into the water that flowed from a crack in the cliff-face, Josette slipped into her sleeping mind. That was what her teachers had called it, training her to picture the the tranquil pool, and dive within it to unlock the magic lurking beneath the surface. When she opened her eyes, everything was hazy, as if she were peering through water.

And the beast began to slow. It was as if the water had suddenly grown thicker, like a viscous soup rather than a free-flowing stream. The Cassarian's strangled cry of outrage echoed off the cliff-face, but sounded muffled and distant to Josette, whose head pounded with the ferocity of a full-fledged migraine. Such awful side effects were yet another reason why she disliked magic.

Time was passing, and even in her fog, she knew she could not wait any longer. The great cat was not halted completely, and in a matter of seconds, it would have reached the other side of the stream. Her face contorted in pain, each step taking far too much effort, she closed the distance between herself and the Cassarian. Its tail darted back and forth madly, snarling as it struggled to control its own feet, which refused to move as they should. But despite its anger, the monster could not react fast enough to dodge her attack. Her head throbbed, her muscles screamed, but she was able to rake her blade across the cat's side.

At the same time she drew her sword back, the Cassarian reached the opposite bank. Her physical ailments fell away instantly, though she was left trembling from the exertion. Her opponent, on the other hand, did not appear at all fazed by her attack. As soon as it was on solid ground, it whirled on her, fangs bared. Defend yourself, her mind screamed, but she could not compose herself enough to summon a protective magic-barrier. Instead, she tumbled back, sword slipping from her grasp as her arms windmilled helplessly. As she finally toppled over, splashing back into the water, she felt the Cassarian's hungry eyes following her.

[Nicolette]

"Josette!" Nicolette's shrill scream carried, but no one appeared to hear her. The herd stood as still as stone carvings, their attention never wavering from their buckskin champion. Willem and Maxus did the same, their tall ears not even flickering at the sound of her voice. There was too much to see, too much at stake. As the Cassarian readied to pounce, and the knight collapsed into the water, Nicolette spurred her own horse into life. She was an expert horsewoman, but in her panic, she was nearly bounced out of her saddle. One hand worked to shove her wind-knotted hair from her eyes, and the other clutched the reins for dear life.

What did she plan to do when she reached them? She had no real answer, and struggled to put any coherent thought together. She took her time. She prepared. She planned. Yet here she was, galloping half-cocked into a place she had no business being. Did she throw herself between the warring parties, or ride directly at the Cassarian?

The herd's leader made her choice for her. The golden mare gave a shrill cry of anger, sharp enough to startle birds from the nearby trees, as she threw her weight backward. She reared, her front hooves thrashing, sharper and more lethal than daggers. In his fascination with the human, the Cassarian had turned its back to the buckskin. Now, it would pay dearly for it.

The mighty horse fell back to the earth with force that seemed to shake the ground itself. Caught beneath the mare's weight, the cat gave a strangled cry of pain, attempting, in vain, to claw itself away. By the time she was done with it, high stepping a few steps backward, the Cassarian lay, trembling, on the side of the stream. With one final plunge of the sword, Josette drew its last breath from it.

Nicolette remained atop Willem. Her heard galloped in her chest, and her breath came in short, shallow gasps, but she was alive. So was Josette. And as she watched the two warriors turn to face each other, she was overcome by the sheer weight of it all. Her hands shook, and as she slid from the saddle, still one hundred feet from the dead Cassarian, her legs swayed like the leaves on the trees.

[Josette]

As they caught and held each other's gaze, Josette was unsure what she would find in the horse's wide, brown eyes. Anger, perhaps, still smoldering despite the removal of the threat. Maybe fear, or confusion, or panic, considering that such emotions still pulsed through her. But what she found startled her.

Curiosity.

The mare regarded her with the same gentle inquisitiveness as she might watch her own spirited foal. Her paper-thin nostrils flared, and ears that seemed just a touch to big for her head swerved toward Josette. She nickered a soft greeting, and with a gentle nod of her head, allowed the girl to approach.

"Oh, sweet thing," Josette murmured, finally noticing the halter that adorned her large head. It was worn leather, a shade nearly identical to her own light brown, which explained why the knight had missed it before. Drawing nearer, hesitant hands lifted to frame the horse's face. When the mare did not shy away, Nicolette pressed both palms to her cheeks. They moved in gentle circles, working to calm them both. She only paused when her fingertips kissed cool metal. It was a nameplate, secured with two tiny screws, and bright gold in color.

"Arianne," she breathed.

"What?" Both Josette and Arianne turned at the sound of Nicolette's voice. They found her standing a few paces off. Her skin was bereft of color, and her blonde bangs were plastered to her forehead. Looking at her, Josette realized how calming the horse's presence had been, as she had looked like that only moments before.

The raven-haired woman motioned her friend closer. "This is Arianne," she explained. "Her name is on the halter she is wearing."

"She is wearing a halter?" The disapproval in her tone mirrored Josette's own reaction to it. No wild horse should wear a halter. Were it to catch on something, it would be dangerous, and it could not possibly be comfortable to wear. Slowly, carefully, Nicolette took Arianne's face in her hands. As Josette had, she gave the horse a few gentle rubs, before moving to unclasp the halter.

Both girls stumbled backward as the mare suddenly threw her head. She took three hurried steps back, shaking her head furiously in an eerily human gesture of objection. Nicolette spoke first. "That," she muttered, "is an incredibly intelligent horse."

Josette glanced from Arianne to Nicolette, and then asked, "why do you say that? Because she did not want her halter removed?"

"No." Then Nicolette shook her head, raking a hand through her tangle of blonde hair. "Well, yes," she amended, "but not only that. I also felt it. Heard it, somehow."

Suddenly understanding, Josette nodded knowingly. "Horses are strange," she mused aloud, in her voice that was slower, and nearly a full octave lower than her companion's. "Sometimes, it seems like they really understand us. And we understand them." She had experienced this herself, a long time ago, with a horse had that looked a bit like Willem. "An unspoken bond."

[Nicolette]

"Well, yes," Nicolette repeated, her weight shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "That is all true. But," her voice trailed, hands motioning helplessly. "It was more than that. I thought I heard something, when I touched her just then. It was a sort of voice."

Josette, the well-trained soldier she was, tensed. Her fingers crept toward her sword. When she realized it still lay on the ground, where she had dropped it after the fight, she hurried to scoop it up. "What did the voice sound like?"

"It sounded like my voice." Even as the words fled her lips, the shame colored the blonde's fair cheeks. Hearing herself speak, Nicolette realized just how absurd the notion truly was. She only made matters worse when she added, clumsily, "in my head."

A moment passed, Nicolette chewing on her bottom lip, Josette slowly wiping the blood and water from her blade, and Arianne observing them both. "Has this happened before?" the knight finally asked. Judging from the girl's reaction, Josette figured that the answer was no. Still, it was worth asking. When Nicolette shook her head, Josette continued. "I have learned never to question, or doubt, the reaches of magic." Her voice was low, her tone level, almost sagely. I have seen seen great power, she thought, and I have done terrible things. Who am I to think less of you? "Whatever this magic is, I am the last person who should pass judgment."

"Magic?" Nicolette gaped back, her mouth open, her amber eyes wide with surprise. "You think this is magic? That I am magical?"

Josette chuckled despite herself, returning her blade to its place on her hip. "You are certainly something, if what you say is true. Magical, I suppose, is as good a description as any." Her right hand now free, she motioned to the buckskin, who waited patiently beside them. "You could try it again, if you would like to."

As if to encourage the girl, the mare took a graceful step forward. Her head extended on her long, thick neck, offering herself to the young woman's touch. With a small frown of concentration, Nicolette pressed her palms to the horse's soft nose. Her eyes slipped closed, and as she focused on nothing but the warmth of Arianne's breath, she heard a single word, echoing in her own voice.

"Follow."

Her eyes flew open, and though she scrambled backward, Arianne appeared to take no offense. To Josette, who had been watching expectantly, Nicolette said, "she wishes for us to follow her."

Josette cocked an eyebrow, though from interest, more than skepticism. "She told you that?"

"I-I think so. That is what I heard, at least." To demonstrate her approval, Arianna began to walk away from the girls, away from her herd. She picked her way neatly across the stream, her steps high, her long tail grazing the surface of the water. When the other horses began to follow, Nicolette and Josette realized it was time to move. Hurried strides carried them back their own horses, where they mounted, and trotted after their leader.

[Josette]

Half an hour passed in relative silence. Nicolette remained distracted by her possible new ability, wondering how she had come to acquire it, and how it might change her reputation among fellow Salvarians. Josette, on the other hand, played back her fight with the Cassarian. Had the mare not been there, there was a very good likelihood that she would have fallen to those sharp claws and shaper teeth. Her wet clothes, drying slowly in the midday sun, were a cruel reminder of how poorly she had performed. Her shortcomings where magic was concerned had greatly hindered her swordsmanship, which she considered her greatest strength. It was with some annoyance that she finally admitted defeat; she required more practice in magic, regardless of how badly she wished to avoid it.

When Arianne finally slowed to a halt, both girls withdrew from their thoughts to survey their new surroundings. They were at what appeared to be the pointed end of the plateau. A wide, sunlit plain extended out from the other side of the landmark, and the humans were so intrigued by the sight that they nearly missed Arianne before she disappeared from view. That, perhaps, was the entire point of the cave's location - to distract, and better hide it. By the time they glanced up, only her rear was visible, seeming to disappear into the wall itself.

"Do not lose her," Josette commanded, but Nicolette was already off her horse, and jogging after. Her escort followed, her eyes narrowing to adjust for the dim lighting. The cavern was carved into the side of the cliff's steep face. It was tall, and had to be to accommodate for the mare's impressive height, but it was neither wide, nor deep. Josette stretched out her hands, fingers fumbling along the jagged wall. The interior was rugged, and by Josette's estimate, too much so to have been carved by recent technology. This place was either naturally formed, or carved out many, many years before.

After perhaps fifty feet, the sharp clap of hooves on rock ceased. "Now what?" Nicolette murmured, but neither of her companions had an answer for her. So she shuffled forward, hands extended. How much further did the cave extend? The enormous Arianne blocked much of the light that managed to trickle through, so it was in nearly complete darkness that she-

A curse word very unbecoming of a lady filled the small space as she ran straight into a wall. "Found the end," she managed weakly.

"Anything else?" Josette asked, her voice hopeful. She was having no better luck in her own search.

"No." The blonde paused to rub at her stinging hands, then she crouched, slowly making her way along the base of the far wall. A few minutes passed, both girls grabbing blindly for something that remained a mystery to them. Something that they could not even be sure existed.

"Why not use your ability again?" the knight suggested. "Ask Arianne what it is we are supposed to be doing."

Nicolette's answer, when it came, was bubbling with excitement. "No need. I think I found something."

Before the pair could even climb back to their feet, the mare was carefully backing her way out of the cave. Nicolette and Josette jogged after, bursting into the bright light with even brighter smiles across their dusty faces.

The advisor eased a long parcel from under her arm. It was wrapped in what appeared to be burlap, and tied tightly with frayed rope. Her fingers began to tug delicately at the knots, just in case the contents were fragile. "What do you think it is?" she breathed.

[Nicolette]

Josette already knew the answer. Even before the rope was tugged free, and the burlap fell away, she knew what she would find. She recognized the shape, the length, the way it looked as Nicolette held it out before her. And when it was finally freed from its bindings, the words slipped from her as soft and breathless as a prayer.

"A sword."

It was a massive understatement; what the young woman clutched was no usual sword. The hilt and the sheath were golden in color, lined with sharp flashes of shimmering silver and black. When Nicolette slowly drew the weapon, the blade appeared to be similar in color. It was not ornate, by any means, but the color scheme more than made up for the simple design. As she held it up, the sword reflected the light in a way that nearly blinded them both.

Glancing away from the sword, Nicolette found Josette to be in a sort of trance. The woman stared at the blade, her lips parted, her eyes wide with awe. Though the sword intrigued Nicolette, it appeared to have so much more of an impact on her friend. So she offered it to her.

"You should take this," she told her.

Josette inhaled sharply as the sword was presented to her, but after a moment of brutal hesitation, she shook her head in hard negation. "No," she countered. "You found it, you keep it."

The younger woman gave a snort, then blew her bangs out of her eyes. "Come now," she chided. "What in the world would I do with a sword? I cannot even be trusted with sharp knives around a camp fire."

Despite the joke, it was clear that her words, and her wish, were genuine. Josette gave a slow nod of approval, and with the same timidness a person might take a child into her arms, she took the sword.

"It looks good on you," Nicolette informed her.

Caught up in their exchange, the women had missed Arianne's departure. She had slipped away without any noise, any warning, her long legs carrying her back to her herd.

Horrified, Nicolette cried out. "Wait!" And the mare did, slowing to a halt, and waiting patiently for her two human charges to catch up.

Unease still lingered within the blonde, unsure of how touching the horse might affect her, but her urge to show her appreciation won out. Like a child might cling to her new pony, Nicolette threw her arms around Arianne's broad neck, and hugged her tightly. "Thank you for saving Josette and I," she mumbled, filling her lungs with the musty smell of the mare's mane. Then she stepped back, looking to Josette.

Far less forthcoming with her emotions, Josette awkwardly moved in. Her left hand tightly clutched her new sword, and her right reached to rub behind Arianne's large, fuzzy ear. The mare lowered her head to the girl's level, and as Josette pressed closer, she whispered, "thank you."

She nearly cried out when a soft, feminine voice filled her mind. "And thank you."

[Josette]

"I still have one question." Nicolette turned in her saddle to face Josette. Two more hours had been put into their journey, and once again, they were on their way to Knife's Edge.

"Just one?" came the rejoinder. "You are far better off than I am."

Nicolette smirked back. "More than one, I suppose. But one that I keep coming back to. One that really confuses me."

Josette continued to study her new sword, and without looking up, asked, "what is it?"

Her companion blew out a long breath. "Why now? If I do have some ability that allows me to speak to horses, or at least one horse, why did it start now? And why did I hear my own voice in my head, and not hers?"

"I meant to ask you about that," Josette replied, finally glancing toward her charge. "You are sure that it was your own voice that you heard?"

Nicolette nodded, her long hair falling over her shoulder. "Yes," she answered. "I know my own voice."

And I know mine, Josette mused. It was not my voice that I heard in my head. It had not been Nicolette's either. The voice had been light, airy, and seemingly very far away. It came to her like a whisper, like a dream. Had she experienced something entirely different than the Salvarian? Josette was less inclined to believe that she also acquired a new ability, as she had been told her magic was water-based. Was it the horse herself who had changed the way she was received?

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Josette glanced up to find her companion watching her, eyebrows lifted quizzically. Nicolette found so much joy, so much excitement, in her new magic. The knight had planned to share her own experience with Nicolette, informing her that she was not the only one who could talk with the horse. In that moment, she decided against it.

"I think you are something," she answered with a hint of a smile. "Talking with horses, and what-have-you. Magical is a fair description."

Nicolette beamed, all lingering doubt melting away like ice beneath a warm sun. The girl was like the sun, Josette thought again. She envied that, and she would do her best to keep her that way.

"You are quite magical too," Nicolette quipped. "I saw you using the water to slow the Cassarian down. What else can you do?"

Josette's blue eyes flashed devilishly. "Summon great waves. Raise mountains from the earth. Call down storms, the likes of which you have never seen before."

"Liar," Nicolette shot back. Then, more hesitantly, "you are lying, right?"

The older woman merely shrugged. "Perhaps," she answered, finally. "What do you think?"

"I think," the blonde answered, "that you will be unstoppable with that sword. If anything is magical, it is that thing."

Josette could only nod her agreement. Something about the sword she clutched to her chest felt very powerful. It seemed to buzz with a life of its own, and it appeared to glow just a bit too brightly, even beneath the hot sun.

"It has been a magical trip so far," Nicolette concluded, settling back in her saddle. She draped her reins over Willem's shaggy neck, and stretched her arms out wide, taking in the nature that surrounded them. She felt so at home among the hills, the trees, the rivers. The events of the day had only intrigued her more, and she knew she would have to make more time in her schedule for exploring.

Josette also reflected on changes she would soon make. Magical was just the word she would use to describe their adventure, and despite her reservations, she had enjoyed herself immensely. She had found wonder in magic, even the small magic, like a girl talking to a horse.

Perhaps, she decided, a little magic was not such a bad thing.

[Josette]

.

Spoil Request: Ma, the Horse blade.

http://i64.tinypic.com/rtf2i9.jpg
High Tide Arianne ("Annie"). 1996-2017.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Thread Title: Small Magic (http://www.althanas.com/world/newreply.php?p=273190&noquote=1)
Judgment Type: Condensed Rubric / Workshop Hybrid
Participants: Nicolette / Josette

Allow me to start by thanking you for letting me review this thread. Knowing that this is the first time you have requested an actual judgment for your writing, I wanted to make sure the feedback I gave you was objective, concise, thorough and helpful. I do hope that I have done this piece justice and that you can take away plenty of positives from the commentary!

I also shamelessly stole your judgment formatting, because my own usual style needs a revamp. Onwards to the judgment!



Plot: 21/30

I thought the way you structured this story was very well done indeed. You managed to hook me early on; a read which was enhanced by the fire-and-ice relationship in the early part of the thread between Nicolette and Josette. I applauded the way that you were economical but efficient with Nicolette's history early on; her conversations with Alexander made sure I knew her background without needing to read ten paragraphs of back story. From there, Josette and Nicolette are introduced and spend time developing a frosty relationship into something where the two share common ground. The scene where Nicolette explains her parents murder-suicide in post nine was particularly potent, which is something I think you did well, and my particularly favorite part came when Josette encountered the Cassarian.

I'm going to be honest with you - I expected you to be weaker here than you were. I think even you admitted that combat might not have been your strongest area. Instead, you wrote a gripping fight scene that kept me reading until well past 1am in the morning; crying baby be damned. You've made it known that Josette isn't fond of using magic and I think that made this moment special. To see her use her not inconsiderable power against this beast was wonderful, but even more so was for the way you ensured it wasn't a one sided affair. The Cassarian was tough, brutal and didn't give Josette an inch.

If I have one criticism, and it does feel a bit nitpicky, is that I felt there was a bit of a missed opportunity for some buildup towards the Cassarian's appearance. In hindsight, I felt that perhaps a bit of foreshadowing would have helped create a bigger impact upon its introduction into the story. I also thought Josette was a bit overdramatic in her reaction to the beast. This creature was clearly a predator and was being painted out to be the sum of all the world's evils, which I thought was maybe a little over the top for something that was probably naturally doing its thing. That said, I can also understand why Josette felt the way she did, seeing something so beautiful about to be massacred.

From here, the relationship between Nicolette and Josette opens up, and you use the appearance of Arianne as both a fantastic vehicle for giving the characters some common ground and an opportunity for some hefty character development. I actually wondered if Arianne was going to be the crystal sword, which would have been awesome, but I at least got some sort of satisfaction when she led Nicolette and Josette to the blade. A great read and also a touching tribute to a certain horse who is in our thoughts.

I think we can both agree that setting is one of your areas for improvement. I felt at times that it got neglected a bit, which frustrated me because I know that you are capable of better, but I will give you credit where credit is due. I loved your opening scene in the castle, and the way you painted it out to be a pointless symbol of wealth and a complete waste of time in Josette's mind. Something confused me a little in the first two paragraphs of post one - you say that "ornate stained glass caught the sun" in paragraph one, but by paragraph two you say "She could see no stained glass". Now, it could be that Josette had simply moved from an area where there was stained glass to a place where there wasn't, but this wasn't clear and therefore appears to be an odd contradiction. An oversight, i'm sure, but it's worth reading these sorts of paragraphs back to yourself to make sure you are making sense.

Between the castle, Wolf's Trail and right up to the cave I felt a bit short-changed when it came to setting. It almost felt as if you were riding on a blank canvas and I couldn't quite visualise where this convoy was heading and what surrounded them. You did an excellent job of describing the Cassarian itself, but failed to really address the area your characters acted within. I imagined some sort of rocky outcrop with a stream? In any case, my advice here would be to try and get inside the eyes of your character. What are they seeing? What are they feeling? Can they use the setting? If you can come up with answers to those three questions, a good setting score is not far away.

Finally, I come to pacing. Rarely do I pick up and read a thread that doesn't have a single jarring moment in it whatsoever. I was never bored by this tale, nor did I ever feel put off by the post breaks or the turn in action. If anything I felt that, other than the lack of foreshadowing of the Cassarian's entrance, this thread was pretty seamless. I printed this off and read it much in the same way I would read one of my books - and the experience was enjoyable. It was easy to follow, slow where it needed to be and quick in the action scenes. Well done.



Character: 20/30

You wrote Nicolette and Josette well and their dialogue and exchanges made sense. I did enjoy how you kept their dialogue consistant with their developing relationships, with Nicolette playing the part of the outgoing, confident girl and Josette playing the more reserved and quiet role for the early parts of the thread. That being said, I'm going to take a page out of "Rayleigh's Judging guide for Dummies" and mention that the only thing missing was a quirk or a nuance in their mannerisms that would have really made one, the other or both stand out a bit more. For example, I might have expected Nicolette to be a bit more regal in her speech. It's a small characteristic like that which makes a character really stand out.

Though the bulk of the action was left to a little later in the thread, I enjoyed the way you approached it overall. Both Nicolette and Josette exhibited characteristics that not only supported their dialogue but their personas as well. I loved the way Nicolette and Josette handle their horses - there was a moment in the first post (which, I confess, I simply notated "cool horse shit <3") where she startled her gelding and subsequently calmed it, but not before it gave an annoyed grumble. Details like that might have slipped the net elsewhere, but your experience with horses made this a wonderful read as that little action brought the scene to life. I also have to credit you for the action contained in the battle scene with the Cassarian; you did an amazing job of not only outlining Josette's adversity to magic, but placing limitations on her and the beast too. It made the battle more believable. Mentioning that she was unable to enact a barrier, for example, was done very well.

In terms of raw events, there was a bit of a gap between the castle and Wolf's Trail where the action flattened, but I was refreshed by what followed.

Persona worked really well here for you. It was very easy to get a handle on Josette and Nicolette, especially helped by the first couple of posts where their relationship is still developing. The reflections on their own pasts and lives, and the people who they lost (and in Josette's case even killed), were well done as well. Consistency was good throughout and this was an important factor for you here. There was only one recollectable moment where I thought there was something a bit odd, and that relates to post four. Up to this point the exchanges between the two had consosted of questions by Nicolette and short, sharp answers by Josette. At the bottom of the post, Nicolette comments:

"Your gelding's name is Maxus. Theodore, the Boyar, rides him quite often. He is a great horse."

Josette responds characteristically with "He is". But here, you then go on to say "Nicolette had to turn away to hide her small smile of success. Perhaps they had finally found some common ground to stand on".

I found this odd, as Josette had only really been responding in the sharp and blunt way she had been doing throughout the thread, and yet Nicolette saw that moment as a success? That was confusing. It could have course meant that Nicolette and Josette shared common ground on liking horses, but even so the tone of her reply seemed almost like a brush off, so I wondered whether that was my perception or not.



Prose: 22/30

Compared to the other sections of this judgment, the prose section almost seems like I am cheating you out of feedback due to its comparatively short length. Please, do not be alarmed at this. It is simply the case that there are far fewer issues here than in other catagories; something I hope you are happy about!

Without a shadow of a doubt, you are an excellent writer. Your grasp of the language, and how and when to use it, is without question. As there always are in such threads, a few typos crept in to the writing and there were one or two examples of odd punctuation but I think these amounted to nothing more than perhaps three oversights in a twenty post story. Other than that, your mechanics were on solid ground. Honestly, I really can't add much more to that, otherwise I'd just be repeating myself, so great job.

With regards to clarity, there were one or two instances where I had to go back and re-read a paragraph which seemed to contain something that contradicted something else I had read before. One such example was the stained glass window enigma. This oddity aside, you earned a solid score in this category. The way you write ensures there is very little grey area in your work and only leaves open to interpretation the things you want to leave open. Everything else is sharp; helped by the way you ensure you don't use more superlatives than you need to in order to describe something (a weakness of my own, I confess). Good job here.

Speaking of literary devices, I really liked the techniques you employed. The style you adopted was the whole reason I wanted to keep reading the thread, which was evident in the way you described the castle in the opening scene through Josette's cynical eyes. I was very excited to read on as a result of this. You have a knack for taking something with a simple function, like a castle or a horse, and finding new ways for the reader to regard them. The castle being painted as a pointless place of peace was a masterstroke and at that moment you had my undivided attention. The scenes that followed with Maxus and Arianne were equally as well written. You're also good at using internal monologue effectively and efficiently. You convey your character's thoughts appropriately and in just the right amount, which is to your advantage in this thread and something that other people often struggle with.

Where I feel you can really take strides forward is by taking your technique and applying it to your setting. You describe things so wonderfully in your writing that you clearly have the ability to not only visualise, but make other people visualise as well. This is the key skill required to nail a great setting and if you start using that strength in technique to create more scenes for your characters to interact in, your writing will only improve.



Wildcard: 8/10

I really, really enjoyed this thread. Not only did it contain some fantastic contrasts between two complex characters, it was crammed full of character development and showed a humanity in your characters that made them relatable. If you can work on your setting, I feel you will only get even stronger as a writer. For now, though, good job!



Final Score: 71/100

Josette (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?18239-Josette) receives:


940 EXP!
130 GP!


Nicolette (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?18744-Nicolette) receives:


1045 EXP!
145 GP!

Congratulations!

*Judges note - combined GP is 275 of which 150 GP is used to pay for the crystal sword Ma. The remaining 125 GP is to be split equally between participants!

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All rewards added!