For those just tuning in, this challenge is about taking a story idea from bare bones idea into a fully fledged story by writing consistently every week day for fifteen minutes. The sentence I end with on one day, is the sentence I start with on the following. Part one was Bob’s story and has nothing whatsoever to do with the story below. Part Two follows a character named Penelope. I have a few basic sentences to act as road marks on her journey. I am loosely calling that an outline. We will see where she ends up by the time the story is done. For now, we start Part two of the 2025 Fifteen Minute Writing Challenge.
Day 64: A few pages later, Amelia speculated that the unknown attacker was trying to figure out who was discovering his attacks.
A few pages later, Amelia speculated that the unknown attacker was trying to figure out who was discovering his attacks. Penelope settled herself in the chair and returned to the journal.
‘There is always the possibility that whoever wishes us ill does not know why the attacks failed,’ Amelia wrote. ‘The family does not think the skill is one that our bloodlines possess and while the servants ask me to assist in testing for the good of us all, they are not likely to share the information. Not only would others find the idea laughable, but they fear other less detectable methods might be chosen as a form of attack.’
Penelope found herself nodding in agreement as she read. It made sense to keep Amelia’s ability as a secret weapon of sorts. “If no one knows it is there they can’t bypass it.” Her eyes narrowed though as she reread a line.
“Not a skill that our bloodlines possess,” Penelope read aloud. She frowned and put the book down, needing to let the sentence swirl for a bit. She moved to the kitchen to make tea, more to give her body something to do rather than because she desperately wanted it.
Amelia was, despite claiming to be flighty and unimportant, careful with her words. She laughed at the thought of her journals being filed with more serious tomes, but she chose her words carefully.
“Not our bloodlines does sort of imply it might be part of someone else’s bloodlines,” Penelope decided. She knew that the Emperor now kept records of magical bloodlines. The family trees of the ‘Great Mage Houses’ were framed and mounted on a wall of one of the salons in the palace. The salon was where the emperor was rumored to meet with mages. She was told it was a great honor and that many mages were proud to point out they were descended from one of the framed bloodlines.
‘At least from what I’ve heard,” Penelope said. While she didn’t actually know any mages, or hadn’t before moving here, it was occasionally a topic of conversations at gatherings. Trinity’s crowd envied them their family trees being so obviously esteemed by the emperor. Penelope always thought it was more as though the emperor wanted to monitor who was likely to develop what skill.
‘Which seems less flattering.” The kettle boiled and Penelope poured the water over the tea leaves in the pot to let it steep. She pulled a small timer from the drawer and set it so that she wouldn’t get reading and forget to take the leaves out. She then put the tea pot, a cup and saucer and all of the other accoutrements she might need on a tray. She added a couple of ginger snaps and walked the tray back to the coffee table in front of her reading chair.
“I wonder what would happen if someone from one bloodline married into another bloodline?” Penelope thought as she sat down. She wasn’t certain how mage traits were passed along but assumed the blood would mingle in the next generation. “The child might get traits from one or the other bloodline but maybe the mingling produces a new trait.”
She shrugged and picked up the journal. It seemed anytime she learned something she realized how little she actually knew.
Ten til Midnight 