Monday, March 10, 2014

I think this post's mostly filler...

There's a real blog post coming soon, but until then, here's another excerpt from my YA High Fantasy :) My narrator is in the middle of a fight. But it's not a fight to the death or anything, so don't worry.

You were worried, weren't you?


Our giant wooden sticks, which were, quite frankly, a bit silly and a little suggestive, clashed against each other as we countered the other’s strikes. We were only inches from each other, and pretty evenly matched. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I cheated.

I let go of the staff and landed a punch square on his jaw. He recoiled back as pain flared in my hand. That wasn’t the best plan, but it bought me the time I needed. And hey, maybe cheated is a strong word. If the only rule in the whole match is don’t kill the other person, and the objective is to win, I think punching is a fine way to achieve said objective.

The only problem was, I hadn’t quite punched him right. That’s why my hand hurt more than it should. I tried to shake it off as he staggered toward me, laughing.

“Seriously?” He asked, only loud enough that I could hear.

“Er, sorry?” I wasn’t really sure what else to say. “I guess—”

Whatever I was going to say was lost as soon as the first scream tore through the air. My opponent, whose name I still didn’t know, tensed as he turned toward the crowd.

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