Morning all and welcome to the Fifteen Minute Novel. Here I take the start of a story idea and work on it for fifteen minutes a day. I started with an old writing prompt that interested me, cleaned it up a bit to fit the basic outline of the story I want to write and then set aside fifteen minutes each week day to see it grow. Each morning’s writing starts with the last sentence of the day before. And so now we have the story of Kasca…
Day 51: That she was also the one they sent away when they needed information was a bitter pill to swallow.
That she was also the one they sent away when they needed information was a bitter pill to swallow. The only consolation Kasca had was that if she stayed home she would be contaminated like the others and unable to formulate any vaccine or antidote. It would take her years of study on her own, but with the information the Overlord had, Kasca was a great deal further forward. She could see where he broke down his analysis of the contagion and where he started to work on a cure.
Unfortunately his notes stopped when he left the keep. He tore out the last few pages, leaving the journal behind with his failed formula. ‘But he might have kept working when he found out he was contaminated.’
Kasca rested and saved up her strength. She would be returning to the scene of the Overlord’s final demise and once again searching the hose for signs of the missing pages and any further research he managed to complete before he died.
When she was rested, Kasca again slipped the small carved piece into the scrying bowl to extend her sight. It was easier the second time but still exhausting. To conserve her energy, Kasca started on the study. It seemed the mostly likely place for a journal to be kept. It took her three days to search all of the study and determine the pages and further notes weren’t there.
Kasca returned and tried not to feel resignation settling in. He might not have continued his research. He might have just let it go by the time he reached the house. Kasca took a deep steadying breath.
“No,” she told herself. “He took as much wealth as possible, fleeing to save his life and planning to return to reclaim his keep. He would not have simply given up.”
She held the thought like a shield. There was still hope for more information. She could work with the formulas he left and when she was recuperating her strength she twisted and turned them looking for things he might have missed. She came up with several possibilities but knew it would take a lot of time. She didn’t know how much time the Sanctuary had. While winter still held sway, and kept her captive more than anything else, she didn’t know how far the contagion spread.
It had been several weeks since she last had contact with them. She was beginning to fear the worst. With that thought in mind, Kasca pushed into the one room she did not want to go. The Overlord’s private chamber. If he felt too week to work in the study it was possible he still continued his efforts there. Hoping his ruthlessness made him work as long as she could, Kasca entered the chamber.
The Overlord still lay tucked in the bed. There were no fires in the house and the cold here was far more severe than in the southern lands. Even the Sanctuaries small island buffeted by ocean winds was not as cold as where the Overlord lay. With no heat to the house he lay preserved, near frozen. It was a disturbing sight and Kasca did her best to ignore him as she searched for his papers. She found them fairly quickly. The volume was by the bed, placed on a writing desk that could be fitted over the lap of the person sitting in the bed.
Ten til Midnight 