The fifteen minute novel writing experiment is a attempt to write a complete (and very rough) draft of a novel by writing for fifteen minutes each day. I have taken a timed writing from one of the daily prompts done in 2021, cleaned it up a little and used it as my jumping off point into a story. Each day I will take the last line of the story written the day before and use it as my sentence starter and write for fifteen minutes, growing the story as the year progresses.
Day 8: Walking along the rough stone shelf she had to be careful where she placed her feet so she did not stub her toes before they warmed.
Walking along the rough stone shelf she had to be careful where she placed her feet so she did not stub her toes before they warmed. She didn’t want to risk cutting her feet. Her feet left small wet footprints on the rock providing a clear trail of her passage, but she didn’t think it would last too long. As long as there was no blood to trail from cuts her trail would vanish before her guard was set to return.
Anya was thankful that walking on the stone allowed her feet to warm and she was relieved when she had feeling in all of her toes again. They were still wet and the wet cloth of her shoes rubbed uncomfortably, but she heard horror stories of those who let their toes or fingers get too cold and then lost the digits. The stories came from travelers who journeyed far to the north but she had seen the evidence of their tales with her own eyes. The stories were meant for the boys of the village so she never lingered, but Anya remembered hearing enough of the pieces to worry about too much cold on her fingers or toes. About the same time Anya was reveling in the feeling returning to her toes, the tunnel began to widen. The glowing moss became more prevalent and Anya could see that the walls were growing further and further apart. The sound of rushing water grew louder as well.
She was unsurprised to find that her tunnel came to an abrupt end the Water that flowed constantly first, with her in its midst and then off to her right, now fell in a frothing mass down into a cavern. Large blocks, showing signs of a stone masons’ chisel were everywhere and when Anya looked up, she could see that a building of some sort had collapsed inwards, destroying the tunnel and creating an underground waterfall.
Anya took a moment to study the crazed mass of stones. Below, she saw rubble that water gushed over frothing and foaming as the water hit the rocks. She couldn’t tell if there was a further passage ther or if whatever tunnel there had been was now under water. Anya’s heart thumped in fear at going down into the unknown waters to search for a filled tunnel. Instead, she looked upwards. There was more rock and more collapsed walls, but Anya could also see a stretch of star studded sky. Her eyes studied the rocks around her. They trailed over boulders and found a path she might be able to take from where she stood up into the light.
Anya took a deep breath. The path would be a hard climb and a fall would send her crashing down into the falling rocks with the water. She knew when she landed she would not cast the same sorts of rainbows the water made as it cascaded and caught the light. Only death lay below and unknown peril lay behind. Anya tightened the straps of her pack and stepped carefully to the difficult path her eyes picked out for her.
The climbing was slow. Her soaked dress was heavy and seemed to want to pull her down. She wouldn’t let it and instead kept climbing. Her hands were bruised and bloody. Despite the protection of the cloth of her dress she knew her knees would be bruised from unintended connections with small rocky outcroppings. Her toes found holds in small spaces between the stones. The fact than most of the stones were worked by a mason and had at least one flat side helped her to find places to grab and places to rest as she climbed. Twice she almost lost her footing and twice she regained it mere moments before her fingers gave out. Eventually, she reached the top of the rock pile.
Ten til Midnight 