Quest for the Ivory Sword Original Draft Part II

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See previous post to read the first half of this manuscript.  This post will conclude what I have of the original draft- I never made it past the seventh chapter.  However, when I stared again, I revised it as I went, leaving me with a total of four drafts over six years, three of which are so similar that you could hardly tell the difference.

 You have no idea how hard it is for me to type these words now with spelling and grammar mistakes included.  I cringe at my atrocious typing etiquette.  Yet at the same time, I can't feel to badly, since at the time that I wrote this, I was literally using one finger to type one letter at a time.  Yeah, that's right, I was 12 and I didn't know how to type.  How's that for you little children?  When I was your age, we didn't always have computers readily available, so I didn't know how to work it!  0_0

CHAPTER FOUR; The plains of Miralom  

(Note:  If you have read the book, I should point out that Miralom is what became Maloam, Talminia's neighboring country. At the time, however, I had envisioned Miralom as less of a country and more of a no-man's-land.  It was also meant to be the home of Nayram`e's great ancestor, Ralienah, who was the first Warrior of Talminia.  I later made Kalavar Ralienah's place of origin, and developed the culture of Miralom into a real society before renaming it Maloam.)

The next morning was the best you could ask for.  Have you ever woekn up grumpy, but felt better as soon as you looked out and saw the day?Well, that was what it was like.  The two travelers were as happy as could be expected.The horse had taken flight long before they had woken, but they did'nt mind.  They giggled and ran through the peaceful meadows and listened to the birds sing.  Finely Fairy asked  ;"what is this place?"  Nayrame checked the map."According this map, we'er on the plains ofMiralom."  the girls traveled on these plains for many days.  Then the real danger came.  Traveling through enemy terratory, the terratory of the Jalmanines!  The Jalmanine Desert could be quit hostile if you didn't know whatyou were doing.  Nayrame and Fairy had to go all the way through it, into the unknown lands.

CHAPTER FIVE;  Jalmanine Desert

(Note:  Once again, we encounter some difference between the original names and the names that actually ended up in the book.  Kalaban became Kastaan, the capital city of Jalmanine, which by the time it was published, was not just a desert, but an empire.)

The first town that they met was Kalaban.  As they approached, Nayrame said quietly;"  We'll have to be on our gaurd,we're all we have now.  Anyone we meet in this place is likely to be an enemy."  Fairy noded solomly.  Kalaban was the Jalmanine capitale. During the day, the city was a hubub of slaves,merchants, prossetions,aimals,Lords,peasents and such.  But during the night,it was so silent that you might think it was a ghost town!  Nayrame and Fairy happened to arrive at mid-day.  THe most buisy time of day.  They were pushed ans shuved through the city.  And just when they were out in the middle of it, there came a prossetion.Before she had tie to react, Fairy was pushed into the middle of the street!  "Hey you!"  the leader. elled.  He drew back his wip for a strike, and Fairy prepared herself for the worst, but it never came. She opened her eyes to see Nayrame standing in front of her, wip coiled harmlessly around her arm.  Nayrame quikly undid it and started pulling her off the street, but the leader of the prossetion stopped them  "Hey!  You little scoundrals!  I'll have to take you to the emporer.Come on."

CHAPTER SIX;  The emprorer's pallece.

The girls were escorted through beautiful gardesn (with monkeys climing in the treets)and court yards.Finely, they were led to a large throne rom were the Emporer sat.  "Alright, Authin, what now?" Asked the Emporer in a lazy, anoyed tone.authen began with what was ent to be a very vexed expretion,(but it looked very near to a terefied expretion)  "th-These little b-brutes were caught tr-trying to sss-stop the princess'es prosetion-j-jumped right in ront o-of her litter!"  The Emporer turned to nayrame.  "You!  What is your name?"  "Nayrame."  The Emporer continued talking to Nayrame.  "And where are eyou from?  He aske.d

"Talinia."Nayrame ansewred cautiously.  A grin that Nayrame did'nt like spread across the Emporer's face.  "Ah."  He said.  "I see.  Gaurds!  See o it that these travelers are well fed and well treated.  Bring them to the best bedchambers we have".  The gaurds led the distrustful travelers away.

Meanwhile...

A franc pare searched through the city.  "How could you have lost sight of them Kurin?!"  Asked one.  "I'm sorry.  I tnk Fairy was pushed into the street, and then Nayrame.  Andn now, Ican't see them."  Anserwe Kurin.  "Well, keep looking."  A while later, Kuring called out, "Solay, I see them!  Their being led to the caslte gates.  They've been arrested!"

CHAPTER SEVEN;  Escape.

The next few days were wonderful for Fairy.  She had relaxing baths, scrumptius suppers,...However, Nayrame was miserable. Though she was given wonderful things, she could not stop the growing distrust for the Emporer.

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And that, my dear readers, end of the first draft.  After that, I was stuck in a dry spot for about a year before I picked up again.  But it was for the best- I matured a lot during that time, and even more so in the years to follow.

To this day I am proud of my little story, for though even in its published form I can see my own youth, it is the project that is closest to my heart.  And this first draft, despite its many faults, isn't half bad for a twelve-year-old's imaginings, in my humble opinion.

Tell me what you think!  I'd love to heart it.  :)

-Emmarayn Redding

Origin Draft of "Quest for the Ivory Sword"

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(WARNING:  Spoilers ahead!)

As some of you know, I started writing my first book, "Quest for the Ivory Sword", when I was twelve years old.    I had been developing the idea for two years before that, so it is quite an old story.

Since I was so young when I started out, I had a lot of learning to do before my writing was ready to be published.  I didn't even make it all the way through my first draft before I started rethinking the storyline.  My mother was very patient when teaching me how to craft a better story, which is fortunate since this particularly had to change and develop in so many ways before its completion.

In the original draft, the main character Nayram`e was unaware of her heritage as the Warrior of Talminia.  She had still been raised by Solay, but at that point in the story, Solay was not her grandmother, but a full-blooded pixie who was several generations removed from Nayram`e.

Nayram`e's quest for the sword began not as an attempt to prevent a war, but rather as a right of passage to become a true warrior.  

In the published version, as Nayram`e and Fayri set out on their journey, the queen sends Kurin, a childhood friend of Nayram`e's, and Swift, a fairy messenger, to follow them and prevent an assassin from destroying them.  In the original draft, Swift did not exist, and it was Solay who accompanied Kurin.  Furthermore, the Kurin's character was vastly different than it is now.  I originally concieved him as a disgruntled, reluctant, skeptical stick in the mud who served as Nayram`e's sword instructor, rather than Solay herself.  His clumsiness, however, remained the same.

There are many more differences I'm sure you'll spot.  In most of my drafts, talking animals also inhabited Talminia.  They were removed shortly before the final draft.  There were also dwarves, centaurs, unicorns, and the like.  I eventually elected to remove those extra creatures because I felt that having a world so heavily populated by so many different races detracted from the story.  Someday I would love to do another fantasy story in which I could include those classic creatures, but for "Quest..." I knew I needed a more simplistic setting.

The following is the very FIRST draft of "Quest for the Ivory Sword", as far as I got.  I have included spelling, grammar, and formating mistakes for the sake of showing the level of writing skill I possessed at the time.  I hope you enjoy it!  May it better your appreciation for the story we ended up with.  :)

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CHAPTER ONE; The adventure begins.

Nayram`e's sword clashed against Kurin's.  "No no! Sword up, like I taught you!"  Kurin yelled.  "sorry". Muttered Nayram`e.  soon Kurin called for a rest.  "Ithink that's enough for today." He said.  "Alright."  Said Nayrame. 

She hurried off to visit Solay.Solay was the oldest pixie in Talminia, yet she still looked young.  Nayrame soon reached the cottage.  Little did hs know she was begining a great adventure.  "There's somthing I want to talk to you about." SOlay said.  Nayrame waited.  "Along time ago, there was a beautiful young warior.  Like you!"  Nayrame smiled and Solay coninued;  "When she was 21, war broke out between Jalmanine and Talminia.  We won, but we were still and are on bad terms with Jalmanina.  FOr her own reasons, the warior hid her sword.  It was a magnificent sword, made of pure ivory!  But sincde then, the sword has not been seen." (Here she paused,) "And I want you to go on a quest to find it."  Nayrame was silent for a moment, then asked; "but why me?"  Solay smiled.  "I have my reasons".  Nayrame was puzzled, but she didnot question.  Her thoughts were whirling on her way home.  When she reached her cottage, she stood for along time.  Then she got out a leatherpouch and packed some money and afew meals.  Tomorrow she would set off with her friend Fairy.  Nayrame was going on a quest!

CHAPTER TWO;  First few miles.

"what did you say?" Asked an astonished Fairy.  "I said;'we are going on a quest'" Anserwd Nayrame.  "Um, yeah, but what for?  Said Fairy, still doughtful.  Nayrame explained about the ivoyr sword."Well... Ok I'll come. Said Fairy.  "Good!"  Nayrame said.  A few hours later, it was mid-day, and the two sat down for lunch But when Nayrame laid out the contents of that days lunch, Fairy looked disgusted.  "It's all cheeses!" she said.  "Well, the longer cheese ages, the better it gets.  SO that's what I packed."  Nayrame said shortly.  "Well, that's just un natural if you ask me." Fairy retorted.  Nayrame sighed.  They had along journy ahead of them, how many times would they argue?  The two girls ate their lunch in silence, but the bright and cheerful day and beautiful landscape soon cheered them up.  Fairy apoligized for what she said about the food.  And Nayrame Told her she'd By hersome bread in the next town.  At night the found a good place to sleep and got a fresh start in the morning.So the two girls passed their first few miles in peace.

CHAPTER THREE; First danger.

The third day was over ast nd rainy.(NOT a good sort of day for traveling!) Yet  the travelers pressed on.  They were dressed in heavy cloaks that they had bought in the last town.  "We're on the border of Talminia!"  Nayrame shouted above the wind.  Fairy did no answer, but kept walking.  Suddenly, out of nowere it seamed, a group of slave traders on horse back burs ou!  They formed a circle around the girls.  The girls fought back to back and Nayrame warded them off bravely, but it was almost useless.  Suddenly, Nayrame noticed that they were several yards further from the mountian pass than they ahd been 10 minutes ago.  The slave traiders were herding them towards the Western wood, the resting place of all Talminian villains!  They were almost there now, at the very entrance of the forest.  Then Nayrame gave a desperate attempt of escape.  She sheathed her sword, grabbed hold of Fairy, and darted under the nearest horse.  The rider, taken completely by suprise, did not even see Nayrame's sword coming to knock him off his horse (which it did).  And the two girls galloped away to safety.  "That was way to close"!  Nayrame said, breathing heavely.  Fairy was shaking terribly.  THe girls found a nce cavve (Talminia is the sort of place were you can find a cave) to sleep in.  And continued there journey n the morning.

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Part II will be posted tomorrow.

-Emmarayn Redding

In Memory of James Horner

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On June 22, my favorite composer, James Horner, died in a plane crash.  Having been a lover of his music since I was a very young child, I was much grieved by this news- and even more so because of its sudden and tragic nature.
As musician and songwriter myself, I often found that my limited knowledge in composing hindered the full realization of the music I heard in my heart.  But when I listened to James Horner's beautiful music, it was as though I were hearing the songs I could never write, but desperately wanted to experience.  It was he who was the greatest influence on my writing style today, and I will cherish his work for the rest of my life. I thank God for blessing him with such talent, and though I don't know where Mr. Horner stood concerning God, I pray that someday we'll get to meet in Heaven.

To those who knew him personally, I send my deepest sympathies.  My heart goes out to you, as I know what it is to lose a loved one and a friend.

And now,  I would like to share with my readers some of my favorite works of James Horner.

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Whispering Winds, from the Land Before Time

The Princess Pleads for Wallace's Live, from Braveheart

Dreams to Dream, from Fievel Goes West

A Kaleidescope of Mathematics

Somewhere Out There, from An American Tale

Main Title, from Braveheart

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Emmarayn Redding

(DISCLAIMER:  No copyright infringement intended.  All rights belong to the copyright holders music. )

Urchin's Chance: Contest Entry

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Every year for the past three years, My Faith Radio has held a writing contest, open to anyone.  This year, writers were asked to write a story either non-fiction or fiction, exploring the concept of Grace.  The story was to be at least 700 words, but no more than 1000.  

This is the first year I entered the contest, with a short fictional story called Urchin's Chance.  Unfortunately, though I submitted it on time and according to the rules, it somehow did not make it to the voting page.  I'm really not sure what happened, but whatever the case, my story is not up for readers to vote on.  

Oh well!  I thought since it didn't make the contest, I might as well post it here. And, since this is no longer bound by the contest rules, I'm giving you the long version- just over 1000 words. Tell me what you think- did it have a chance at winning?  Let me know in the comments below.  Enjoy!

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URCHIN'S CHANCE

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A bitter wind bites my cheeks and sends a shudder through my chest. I feel the cold deep within my bones. My nose starts to run, but my skin is so chapped that the rough wool of my gloves will only hurt more.

Jerome stares out at the people passing by, snowflakes landing lightly on his black hair. He doesn't seem cold. But he's a year or two older than me, and he's been on the streets since he was ten, so he's used to it by now.

Without glancing my way, he nods slightly. “Do you see that, Tim?”

I look, trying to quell my shivers. Across the street, I can see a street vendor setting up his stand. Even from here I can smell the scent of roasted corn. My mouth waters.

“We'll have to be careful- I can see Bruiser on the corner.”

I see him too. Bruiser is a bobby- but he's got a savage streak. I've seen him beat a boy almost a year younger than me for pick-pocketing. He's less interested in upholding the law than he is in showing off his power.

“Let's go,” says Jerome. Without a word, I follow.

We weave through the crowds. People aren't paying much attention to us. We keep our heads up, but our eyes down. If you don't make eye contact, people don't remember you.

I'm nearing the vendor now. The smell lights me up, makes me warm inside. I'm so close- in just a few minutes, my stomach won't be growling any more.

I meet Jerome's eyes, and he nods. I move toward the stand, bumping into a man in front of me. He stumbles forward, upsetting the stacks of corn and knocking several cobs onto the cobblestones. In the blink of an eye, I gather them up and shove them down my coat. I toss two more to Jerome before propelling myself to a run.

It's a moment or two before anybody realizes we've stolen food. I hear someone yell, but it's too late- we're well on our way. No one will pursue us for something as little as corn cobs.

Breathlessly, I lean up against a wall and share a smile with Jerome. He chuckles.

“Can we eat now?” I ask.

“Go ahead, enjoy your spoils,” he says with a smile. “It won't be your last- that's not the only gold we've nicked today.”

I look at him quizzically. From his pocket, Jerome pulls a shining chain. It's a watch, glistening in the white winter glow. My eyes widen.

“I got it off a gentleman back there, in the confusion.”

“Wow, Jer'...” I gape at it. He smiles proudly.

“I think it's safe to say we won't be hungry for a long time.”

I open my mouth to congratulate him, but at that moment, a shout makes me start. I turn, scrambling to my feet. Men are running towards us, and Bruiser is a the front.

I hardly have time to think. I try to follow Jerome as he runs, but he's going too fast. I trip over an empty crate and crash to the ground. Corn cobs roll around me, soiled in the filthy snow. The watch is lying in front of me.

“Oi, stop, you nasty little thief!” a rough hand seizes of my shoulder and I cry out. A moment later, I feel Bruiser's bobby stick come crashing down on my skull, making me dizzy with pain. I am thrown to the ground. My breath leaves me, and I throw my arms up to cover my face from his next blow.

It never comes. I gasp for breath, trying to fill my lungs with much needed air. My head spins, and my vision is blurry. I dimly see the shape of a man struggling with Bruiser. I don't care... my eyelids droop, and my head falls back on the pavement. I know no more.

I sit in a cold cell. My head pounds, and my hands feel shaky. The rough wooden cot puts slivers through my breeches, but I'm not thinking about it. I'm thinking about what's going to happen to me, now that I'm behind bars.

I don't know what they do to thieves when they're caught. Maybe they'll beat me and put me back on the streets. Maybe I'll be sent to a workhouse, or to an orphanage. Whatever it is, I dread it.

Hearing footsteps as they approach, I look up. I gulp as I see the warden with his keys jangling. A gentleman stands behind him. There is blood running down the gentleman's forehead from a fresh gash, but he pays it no mind.

The warden unlocks the door and scowls at me. He jerks his head, motioning me to come forward.

“Come here, boy,” he growls.

Trembling, I stand and approach. At a sign from the warden, I walk through the cell door. I look up at him, confused.

“Excuse me....” I say, my voice quavering, “but, aren't I-”

“Shut your trap, young 'un. This gentleman here's just paid a pretty sum to get you out. You're his concern now.”

The warden gives me a withering look and turns his shoulder. Snorting, he trudges down the dark hallway, leaving me with the gentleman.

Swallowing, I turn to look up at him. He sees the question in my eyes and gives me a kind smile.

“Yes, it's true,” he says. “I've paid your fine.”

I stare at him, my mouth open. I try to think of something to say, and my eyes focus on the gash on his forehead.

“You're bleeding,” I say dumbly.

“Yes. It was a blow meant for you, in fact.”

My eyes widen as I realize who he is. He was the man who was struggling between Bruiser and I. He stopped the blow before it came.

The gentleman puts a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, son- you're free to go now, but if you keep stealing, it's going to catch up with you. You won't evade the law forever. So you have two choices: you can either go back to your life and continue as you have been, or you can follow me and never have to fear again.”

I balk, not sure if I understand.

“So which is it?” the gentleman asks.

“I- I just- I don't know,” I fumble.

“Will you come with me, or won't you?”

The gentleman holds out his hand and gives me an encouraging smile.

I consider my life on the streets. He's right- I won't evade the law forever. Eventually, my wrongs will catch up with me. “I- I'll come with you,” I manage to say.

The gentleman smiles. “Good.” He beckons as he turns to leave.

“Pardon me for asking sir, but why are you doing this?” I ask, hurrying after him.

He turns and looks at me, right in the eyes. “Grace.”

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-Emmarayn Redding

Reversal of the Heart- A Beautiful Fairy Tale

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Hello, my readers!

I recently came across this lovely short film by Fiddle Griff Animation, and was immediately drawn in by the story.  It is sad, sweet, enchanting, exciting, and romantic all at once.  I loved it so much I just wanted to share it with you here.

To the artists behind this work of art:  I applaud you!  This is absolutely lovely, perfect as it is.  I think it even has potential to be a full length movie, or even a novel.  You've done a wonderful job, and I hope you keep going with your career.

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(Just a Warning:  There is some blood shown in this animation. Nothing terribly gory- and it is very brief.  Also the events that set the story in motion are sad, and may be upsetting to young children.)

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I hope you enjoyed this film.  Let me know what you think in the comments, and maybe we can hype about it together!  :)

-Emmarayn Redding

Enola Holmes - Sherlock Fanfiction: The Disappearance

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Hello, Readers!  

It's been a long time since I've written a fanficiton-  I've been entirely too busy with my own work to play with someone else's.  But I know that I promised another Enola-Sherlock fanfic, and never let it be said that I am not a woman of my word.

I am currently working on a rather long (hopefully) novel-length fanfic that will combine at least three Enola Holmes books into one, while mixing in elements of Sherlock.  But that's a tough project, and I haven't even finished writing the plot.  So for now, I figured I'd stick to one-shots.   Thus I bring you The Disappearance, an origin story.  

I'll get back to the current timeline in my next one-shot fic, The Problem.

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A knock sounded on my door.  Tensing, I tried to quell my sniffling.  I hurriedly wiped the tears from my eyes and kept my back to the door.

"Who is it?"  my voice was steady.  I'd been practicing keeping my tone level, but even I was surprised at my success.  Suppressing emotion was a Holmes family trait, and it looked as though I was well on the way to mastering it.

But I didn't feel in control at all.

"Miss Enola, it's me,"  a man's voice replied.  It was our butler, Lane.  

I grabbed a tissue and wiped my nose.  "Just a moment". 

Rising up, I crossed the room and opened the door slowly.  I met Lane's eyes and kept my face still, and unreadable.  His eyes softened when he saw my red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, but he was kind enough to make no remark

"I just came to tell you that Mrs. Lane has supper ready,"  he said softly.

I nodded.  "Alright."

I stood quietly for a moment, staring blankly into space.  Lane waited looking at me with expectant eyes.  After a few seconds, I woke myself from my reverie.  "Oh!  I'm sorry,"  I said, my voice wobbling a little.  "I should say... I'm just not very hungry, you see."

Lane swallowed and frowned.  "Miss Enola, you did not eat lunch this afternoon, and to my knowledge you had no breakfast either.  And Mrs. Lane tells me that you barely at anything for supper either.  Now I know that you're sixteen and quite old enough to decide when you want to eat, I must insist that you come down at once and have some supper.  I'll not have you becoming-"

"-Like my brothers?"  I finished, a little more sharply than I meant.

Lane blinked, deflating a bit.  "A waif.  I was gong to say a waif... from not eating, you see."

I shake my head, whatever ire I had felt quickly dying.  "Oh."  I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair. 

"Very well, Lane, I'll come down.  Just give me a moment."

"Good."  Lane smiled and turned away, heading slowly down the stairs.  

"Lane-"  I called after him suddenly.  "Has there been  any word from mother?"

Lane hesitated, then shook his head sadly.  "No, I'm sorry."

I swallowed back my disappointment.  "Oh.  Alright, then."

I sank back into my room and reached for my robe.  Feeling its weight on my shoulders helped relieve some of the emptiness I felt.

"Where are you?"  I whispered.  I closed my eyes, trying to quiet the whirl of emotions I could feel swelling inside me.  I should not be so upset.  I should be calm and logical.  I am growing up now, and I should not be so easily disturbed.

Yesterday was my sixteenth birthday- the day a girl is supposed to start being a young woman instead of a child.  But that dream day I've heard called "Sweet Sixteen" is a lie:  I feel no different than I did when I was fifteen.  In fact, I feel almost younger.  

My mother was gone when I awoke yesterday morning, out on her usual walk.  I had expected that.  But I had also expected her to be back by tea time, and she was not.  I waited all day, and she still had not returned.  By suppertime I had been dying to open the present she had left for me, but I still waited.  

By nightfall she had not returned.  By midnight, I had become really concerned.  But one cannot file a missing person report and be taken seriously until 24 hours have passed.  So I waited until this morning, and then began to second guess myself.  Suppose she had just taken a spontaneous holiday?  My mother was a free spirit, and sometimes rather scatterbrained.  It wouldn't be unlike her to suddenly decide to take a trip... only, in the past she's at least notified me.
Maybe now that I'm sixteen she thinks I'm old enough to handle myself...
I sigh and shake my head.  No.  I didn't care how odd my mother could be at times... she would never deliberately do anything to cause me distress.  She would have known I would worry, that I wouldn't know what to do.
Swallowing back my worries, I went downstairs and found Lane and his wife in the kitchens.  Ordinarily I would eat with Mother in the dining hall, but tonight I sat in the kitchens with them.  I just couldn't bear to be alone again.
Alone.  Enola.  My name spelled backwards.  I don't know what possessed my mother to give me that name.  Perhaps it was because I was born so many years after my two elder brothers.  I came as a surprise, and as such I was raised alone.   My father, who passed away so long ago I can hardly remember him, was always distant, so perhaps my mother felt alone.  Whatever the case, my strange name has always unsettled me deep within.
When I asked my mother why she named me so, she only laughed and shook her head.  "Because you shall do very well on your own, Enola," she said elusively.
I didn't know what she meant by that then, and I certainly do not know now.  But I know that now, when she is gone, I must somehow do well anyway.
After eating enough to satisfy Mr. and Mrs. Lane, I excused myself back up to my room.  They gave me sympathetic smiles and said goodnight, and then retired to their own quarters.  I could see the worry in their eyes, but it was less now that I had shown them I was still afloat, emotionally.
I knew why they worried.  They had been with our family for years, and were well aware that we had a hereditary predisposition for... how shall I say it, melancholic disorders.  I shudder to say insanity, for that is a word we never dared speak in this house.
Many years ago, when he was in his late teens, my brother Sherlock was institutionalized for a brief time.  Mother never spoke of Sherlock or Mycroft much, I think because they gave her much grief.  As a child I was always very curious about them, for as long as I could remember, they had been out of the house.  Since Mother wouldn't speak of them and Lane was not forthcoming either, I resorted to snooping around for information myself.  I found their medical records- which is how I knew about Sherlock's brief confinement.  Apparently he exhibits sociopathic tendancies, which is possibly why he never came to visit during my childhood.
But since that dark time, I understood that he had become a private consulting detective, and was doing very well for himself.  He had a friend, John Watson, who had been running a blog detailing their adventures for quite some time.  I was a faithful follower- in truth, I found myself admiring my brother more every time I read about him.
As for Mycroft, the oldest of the Holmes children, I knew that he worked somewhere in the government.  He must have been doing well too, for he paid for the upkeep of our estate.
My eyes widened suddenly.  I had been lying on my bed, wallowing in my misery, when a thought came to me.
Both of my brothers were rumored to be the smartest, most brilliant men in England.... perhaps, since mother was missing, they would know what to do.  My poor brain was not sufficient to the task, but they could surely keep their wits about them.
I hesitated for a moment, considering.  But really, what was I to do?  I didn't know where else to turn, and family seemed as good an option as any.

Reaching for my mobile, I typed out my message:

Mum's gone missing.  She's been gone since yesterday morning.  I'm not sure what to do... please help.  Please come.
-Your sister,
EH

My heart tightening with anticipation, I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes.  I tried to calm myself and still my thoughts.  I took deep breaths, in and out, in and out.
It must have worked. for it was an hour before two text messages arrived and woke me from my slumber.

Notify the police:  that is proper procedure.  I shall arrive promptly.
-Mycroft

Coming.
-SH

I swallowed.  I would meet my brothers, for the first time in my memory, at last.

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-Emmarayn Redding

(DISCLAIMER:  This is a fanfiction for entertainment purposes only.  I do not own any of the characters mentioned within this post.  I do not own the fictional universe in which this story takes place.  All credit goes to the proper owners.

Images taken from the public domain.)

Weekly What If: Star Wars!

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This week's "What If" involves a couple of questions regarding the Star Wars universe.

1.  What if Anakin had told Obi Wan that he and Padme were married?

I think that Obi Wan would have at first been shocked that Anakin would do something to jeopardize his position as a Jedi Knight, but that he would have aided him out of friendship.  He could have helped them escape to a nice place where  they could live in peace and raise their children together.  Either that, or he would have convinced Anakin to go to the council and confess his actions, resulting in his suspension or expulsion from the Order.  Either way, it would have prevented his turn to the Dark Side- or at least delayed it.

2.  What if instead of being sent to live on Tatooine, Luke had been sent to Padme's side of the family and grown up on Naboo?

First of all, he probably would have had a very different personality.  As revealed by the prequels, Padme's family had a high status on Naboo and were involved in politics.  Luke may well have been more like Leia- sophisticated, diplomatic, and politically inclined.  He probably still would have wanted to join the rebellion.  Indeed, he may have met Leia much sooner through involvement with the rebellion.

Of course, Star Wars as we know it would not likely have happened if he had not lived on Tatooine.  

3.  What if Padme had lived?

Naturally she would have become part of the resistance, alongside Bail Organa and Obi Wan.  Perhaps she would even have led the efforts, and raised Luke and Leia away from the action, forever shielding them from knowledge of their father's history.  Of course, her presence could not remain hidden for long... and it would only be a matter of time before Anakin/Vader began suspecting that his beloved wife is not lost after all.

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What are your thoughts on these issues?  I'm sure there are hundreds of ways for each of these scenarios to unfold.

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-Emmarayn Redding