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This is part of Ara’s Setup-so this happens during like the very beginning of the book (as of this draft) and for context, the scene starts when Ara is about to be ran over by a horse due to her being distracted but November pushed her outta the way (thankfully XD)
Scene: Setup
POV: Arabella
The horse bared toward her, it’s eyes wide as it realized the sudden obstacle that blocked it’s path. The cart’s owner pulled on the reins, yelling wildly at the horse and then Ara, but she was frozen in place. The horse whinnied, it’s hooves slowing at the constant tugging, but not nearly enough to halt it.
Ara’s breath hitched, regret and guilt squeezing her ribs. She was going to be crushed by this horse, yet all she could think of was how, at least, she wouldn’t have to deal with anymore dreams.
It was a terrible, quick thought. One that flashed through her mind so quickly, she wondered if it had really been her thought at all. It was immediately replaced with regret at not having spoken to her family recently.
Not telling Anie what was bothering her.
Not-
“ARA!”
Her body hit the ground with a deafening thud, knocking the breath from of her lungs. She clenched her eyes shut, expecting to be racked with immense pain. Every bone broken; utterly crushed due to her ignorance and panic.
However, after a few seconds, all Ara could feel was a stiff soreness. She opened her eyes and found herself a few feet away from the horse and driver; far from danger. She was…safe.
Unharmed, other then a few scratches from her landing.
She lifted her upper body, using her hands to steady herself against the cobblestone. She let out a sigh of relief, glancing around in bewilderment.
“Ara! Ara, are you alright?” Something soft and warm touched her wrist and she jumped.
Kneeling beside her was a boy, around her age, with baby blue eyes and strawberry blonde curls His brows furrowed as she jerked and he released her wrist, frowning.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t…I mean I-“ He looked away.
The fog in Ara’s head cleared and she smiled, wrapping her arms around the boy’s neck. “November!” It was his turn to be taken aback and he held his arms out for a few seconds before returning the embrace. Ara released him, sitting back on her knees. Her mind tried to replay the events that had just taken place, realizing that she had obviously not been crushed underfoot. Her brain reeled in replay, piecing together the missing pieces.
Her eyes softened.
“You…you saved me.”
November’s cheeks turned pink and he once again looked away. “I..Well…I wasn’t going to let my best friend get ran over, was I?” He scrunched his eyes as he smiled, showing his dimples.
Ara chuckled, feeling the urge to give him another hug. She settled for grabbing his wrist and smiling. “No, really November. Thank you. I…I’m sorry. I was…distracted,” she frowned.
His brows furrowed again and she could see the question forming in his mind, but before he could ask her anything, he was jerked up by the collar of his shirt. He yelped at the sudden movement, grabbing at his collar. Ara’s eyes widened and she leapt up.
“November!” She cried.
The man who’d grabbed November, a farmer by the looks of it, was young and muscular; twice the size of the poor boy. He held him up by his shirt front and glared daggers.
By this time, Ara hadn’t realized the crowd that had gathered around her and her friend since the near-fatal accident involving her and the horse-drawn cart. She also hadn’t noticed the damage it seemed to have caused.
After avoiding Ara, the horse must’ve skidded to a stop, making the cart tip, and the hay it’d been carrying fall into the road. People were busily loading it back into the now upturned cart. Behind November and the man who now held him were multiple broken boxes . Fruit and vegetables were strewn about the street, and the gruff man obviously wasn’t happy about it.
“You’re lil’ stunt ruint me crops!” He barked, nearly spitting on November. The boy grew pale and Ara could tell he desperately wished to curl into a ball.
“I-I didn’t…” November stuttered. “It wasn’t a stunt! My friend…she almost got ran over!” November’s face heated up as he squirmed, his feet a few inches off the ground.
“Well then, you and your friend should be more careful.” The man’s glare turned to Ara.
Ara could hear the whispers around her; “Princess Ara…” Her hands shook and she shrunk back. November glanced at her, as if hoping to for something-anything-that might get him out of this mess, but she couldn’t move. Once again, she was frozen.
But instead of a ferocious, four-legged beast that could crush her in one leap, here all that stood in her way were a few whispers.
And that scared her more then the beast had.
So she stayed still.
And did nothing.
Even when the man shook November again.
“Point is, me crops are ruint! And someone has to pay for them.” The man’s glare grew deadly and November seemed to shrink into himself.
In one swift motion, November was on the ground, having been thrown. He crawled back, looking around for someone to help him, but no one stepped forward. In fact, everyone else was giving him the exact same look as the man before him.
Anger.
Annoyance.
Disdain.
Ara’s heart fell.
None of them cared.
None of them but her.
And she was too afraid to do anything.
The farmer approached November and lifted his head by his curls. Ara opened her mouth, willing herself to speak. Wishing desperately that she could stop the anxiety that was choking her voice. Her eyes watered and she covered her eyes, unwilling to watch whatever was going to come next.
“Ey, Mitch. Ain’t that Riven’s boy?”
A voice spoke through the crowd.
No yell.
No cry of pain.
No gasp.
Ara chanced a look and found November, his head still held in the same position. His eyes were squeezed shut and he too took a peek.
Another man had stepped out from the crowd, a few years older then the one who held November, but still quite burly. Ara held her breath, hoping against hope that he wasn’t going to join in this “Mitch’s” payment plan.
Mitch turned toward him, squinting in thought. He looked from November, scanning his face, back to the other man. “Aye, what ‘bout it?”
“Don’t bother with ‘im then. His father’ll pay for the crop.”
Mitch didn’t seem satisfied.
“Ya sure?”
“Ya. Trust me. Guy’s livin’ well.”
Mitch frowned and looked at November, studying the boy’s clothes; which consisted of a plain white collared shirt and brown jeans, both of which were now dirty from he and Ara’s most recent “adventure.”
“Ya sure we’re talkin’ bout the same guy?”
“Trust me. He don’t live like it, but he can get you your money. ‘Sides, why else would he be able to cozy up to the royals?”
This seemed to make Mitch reconsider. Slowly, he released November’s curls. “Heh, s’pose that’s true. Don’t see any other reason the princess be friend’s with this lot.”
November flinched, rubbing his head.
Ara flushed, heat rising in her chest. Her fists clenched and she gritted her teeth. She wanted so badly to yell-no, to scream!-at this horrid man, but she couldn’t will herself to move. Not with everyone watching.
And whispering.
And staring.
“Alright then,” Mitch looked down at November, who had stopped rubbing his head, “Tell your father I’ll be by to see him later. I’m sure he’ll be real pleased to hear about this.” Mitch smirked and November flinched again, his eyes growing wide.
Ara grimaced.
Telling his father would be worse then any punishment Mitch could’ve doled out.
The crowd dispersed, only a few stragglers remaining to point and snicker at the now dust-covered boy. Once most had moved on, Ara felt the invisible bonds that held her loosen. She ran to her friend’s side, kneeling beside him.
She tried to speak but found her mouth dry. Guilt and shame gripped her throat as she looked at friend’s disheveled appearance. He hadn’t been hurt, thank the Light One, but his curls were tousled and his shirt had come untucked from his pants.
Why hadn’t she done something?
After all, he’d gotten in trouble because of her…
“November…” She said, her voice scratchy, and she realized with a sniff that she was crying. November jerked his head up, brows furrowing. Before she could say anything else, he shook his head.
“Aww, hey, don’t sweat it! I-I’m good.”
“Are you-are you sure?”
“Course I am!” He smiled, showing off his dimples. He looked down, examining his clothes, “Though…can’t say the same for my shirt.” He frowned, wiping his hands on his pants. “Heh, my dad’s gonna kill me.”
Ara bit her bottom lip, noticing a sudden shift of posture as November slumped. She wished she could’ve taken November’s comment as an innocent joke. But she knew better.
The boy’s hand slid up to his strawberry-blonde curls, giving them a few hard tugs. A habit he’d had for as long as Ara could remember.
“I, ah, guess I should head home. I doubt that Mitch guy’s gonna waste any time,” November shrugged, not looking Ara in the eyes. He tried for a side smile, but she could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. He rose to his feet, holding out a hand for her to grab. She took it and stood. “Just, umm, try not to get run over by any carts, okay?” Ara chuckled. “Meet up later?”
Ara didn’t answer. Instead, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze and, still seeing his slumping posture replied, “I can go with you.”
November looked at her and then at his boots, as if contemplating. His eyes glanced to their entwined hands and he bit his lip.
“I…You…You don’t have to..I mean, I can go by myself. It’s not that big a deal.”
“You don’t have to face him alone. I got you into this mess, I should at least help you get out of it.” Ara smiled. A hint of guilt still gripped her heart as she remembered how useless she’d been previously. Perhaps she could fix that now.
“Are you…sure?”
“Positive.”
November smiled.
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebThe setup is also to show Arabella in her “Normal” world and how she’s struggling and how her flaw is affecting her. This scene really shows that with her not helping November due to her anxieties/fear
We ALL know that after this book, this changes, and Ara is MORE then willing to help out her friends (especially November) whenever they’re in trouble, thus this really shows how her flaw/fears in this book is affecting her.
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebThis also happens with Riven. She doesn’t really help November with Riven, and this is a guilt she carries for a long time, knowing she should’ve done something for November because she watches his struggle throughout his life with abuse the man gave him (even though November struggles with recognizing everything as abuse)
Tho as a child Ara couldn’t really be blamed because she didn’t know any better, but when she got older and started to see some things, that was when she could’ve done something, but her fears got in the way.
This is another reasons she’s extremely adamant and doesn’t give up on helping Paxton when we get to book four. And why she harbors such strong feelings immediately towards Lilith.
ANYWAY (me rambling XD)
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSeb- Rank: Chosen One
- Total Posts: 8156
@godlyfantasy12. Uhm…let me check. *checks ever-growing, long list* Yeah, she’s in there. XDXDXD
AWW, ARA AND NOVEMBER ARE SOOOO CUTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! 😍😍😍
Riven better not have hurt November, or I’m permanently taking November away from him.
😎#ProtectionSquad😎
@freedomwriter76 WELLL he does slap him in this book….
but other then that and mental and verbal abuse…mostly no.
except maybe just being very menacing and just giving the reader a “I don’t like u” vibe, like grabbing November’s arm, etc.
He wasn’t really physically abusive. But he did give unfair/demeaning/cruel punishments when he’s younger; locking in basements for an hour or so, staying in bed for prolonged periods of time, standing on a stool for a couple hours, and there was one time he had November stay up all night to refill all the holes he and Ara had dug in the backyard playing pirates
by himself.
November was 7.
He never told Ara about it.
but It’s these kinda things that November doesn’t recognize as “abuse” and…that’s what makes it even more sad really. He honestly just thinks it’s kinda normal for him and some families (not Ara’s though, he knows they’re different.
Because if he isn’t being physically hurt or hit or something is it abuse?? Again some kids and people outside struggle with recognizing abuse if it’s not in physical form and I feel November would be one of those children.
But…I feel like he obviously questions it all after he discovers the truth about his father. But the real nail in the coffin is book 4, when he meets Paxton.
while Paxton is physically abused some, that’s mostly by his brothers. A lot of the things he goes through is very similar to November, and it’s in seeing it from the outside and November realizes “Oh my gosh…This….isn’t normal. This isn’t okay.”
my babies…. 😭 💔
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSeb- Rank: Eccentric Mentor
- Total Posts: 1379
That catalyst scene gave me chills!
@freedomwriter76
Did I ever mention how much I love Riker? What an admirable man. <3
@joy-caroline thank you!!
@freedomwriter76 btw, so I found a song called No Saving Me by Philemon Lee, and…while it is sad, It fits November’s misbelief sooo well and I feel it would fit Riker too
😭 😭 💔 💔
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSeb- Rank: Chosen One
- Total Posts: 8156
@joy-caroline. Aww, thank youuuu!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️
I’m so glad you love him!!! I do too! XDXDXD Y’know…if y’all didn’t know that by now…XDXDXD
@godlyfantasy12. That’s it, I’m going after Riven and Lilith and Paxton’s brothers.Would you…uhm…mind telling me where they all live? JK. XDXDXDXD I think. 😉
And I ABSOLUTELY NEED TO FIND THAT SONG!!!! (and probably cry…tbh)
- Rank: Chosen One
- Total Posts: 8156
@godlyfantasy12. AGHHHHH!!!! IT DOESSSSS!!!!!!! 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭
@freedomwriter76 I KNOOOOOW!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebAra! NOVEMBER NO!?! How dare anyone do that to my laddie.
Riven, you don’t know what you’re asking for, because I’m not an official part of the Character Protection Squad…
*Bwahahahaha*
First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)
Fork the Gork@koshka ikr!!!
also yall I ended up writing over 2,000 words yesterday!!! And I have another piece of an unfinished scene to share! Fair warning it’s probably not the best as it was late and I was tired and was just writing to get words in 😂 but ya
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebScene: November’s Catalyst
POV: November
November’s foot tapped against the marble flooring. His lips quirked to the side and he cleared his throat, glancing from left to right.
Boy, did he hate just standing around.
It was always so…awkward.
Though…most things he did were awkward, he supposed.
He let out a breath, sending one of his curls flying. A few people passed by, giving him a wave or a nod. He smiled back, feeling like a complete dolt. He was sure they were all wondering why he was just standing there, all creepy like, but what else was he supposed to do?
Ara had gone into her father’s study to see Ganesh, and…well…November didn’t want to intrude. It had been years since Ganesh’s last visit, and he knew how close he and Ara were. They were like family to each other. So, November had opted to stay outside for their reunion, though he was now regretting it.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and began awkwardly swinging his shoulders from side to side. He silently hoped that Ara would hurry, but knew that was a bit selfish. Perhaps he should just go…Ah…but that would be rude too, wouldn’t it.
He frowned, eyes ticking back and forth. He really should’ve gone inside…
“Aye, November!”
November yelped, startled. His head raised to meet the eyes of the blonde-haired young lady who’d called him. He swallowed, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “A-Anie! You…ah…scared me.”
“Ja, I noticed,” she rolled her eyes, placing a hand on her hip. November rubbed the back of his neck.
“D-Did you need something?”
Anie’s eyes narrowed and then she huffed, pointing over her shoulder. “There’s a man in the hall. Ya Papa, I think. Says he needs to see ya.” November’s heart plummeted.
“D-Dad? W-What’s he doing here?”
Anie shrugged, “Beats me.”
November paled, his stomach twisting. Was his father still upset with him? Had he done something else to disappoint him? Why else would he come all the way to the castle? To see him? He swallowed, nodding.
Anie raised a brow. “Aye, you okay there?” November jerked his head up, blinking furiously.
“Oh! Uh, yea! Yea, fine! I, should, uh, get going,” he gave a half-hearted smile, waving as he slipped past. His hand instinctively rose to his curls, readying themselves for a fierce pull when Anie’s voice called once more.
“Oy! By the way, where’s Arabella?”
November paused, back still to the handmaid. “She’s, um, in the study.”
“Ah, figured she wouldn’t be too far. You two stick pretty close, after all. Surprised she hasn’t figured it out by now.” November caught her wink out of the corner of his eye.
Heat creeped up his neck and face. Anie’s laughter echoed down the hall, followed by her footsteps. November coughed, trying to get rid of the blush he knew was on his face.
He rounded a corner, passing a few maids and servants. His eyes studied the hall, searching for any sign of the tall, dark-haired man he knew so well. His heart beat quickly, amplifying in his ears like a drum. His fingers ran through his curls, catching in a few and giving them a good tug.
Glancing down, he found his reflection staring back from the marble tiles. He frowned at the curly-headed boy he met eyes with. His appearance was a daily reminded of his disappointment. His shortcomings.
A daily reminder that he’d never be like his father.
With Riven’s strong jaw, and dark hair. His perfect posture. Flawless manners and ability to handle any situation.
No…
November would always just be…November.
The lanky kid with curly hair and dimples. The boy who couldn’t do anything right. The clumsy kid with no filter. A disappointment.
November scrunched his nose at the reflection. He sighed, continuing his way down the hallway. He rounded another corner, pausing when he realized he hadn’t passed anyone recently. He frowned.
Had he gotten lost?
Anie had said his father was waiting here, right? In the hall?
Surely he hadn’t gotten that wrong…
“Wha-Hey!” November cried as something gripped his forearm. He winced at the pressure against his skin as the fingers held tight. He writhed and squirmed, eyes squeezed shut. “Let go! What are you-“
“November.”
His eyes shot open. He stopped moving, head turning to face his would be attacker. He blinked. “D-Dad?”
Riven stood tall, his dark blue eyes searching November calmly. His expression was void of emotion; his lips drawn thin and his brows lowered into a straight line. The man glanced at the hall, as if making sure no one were around, and then back at his son.
“Dad-what…what are you-“
“Hush, I haven’t the time for questions.”
November grimaced. He glanced at his arm, still upheld in his father’s vice-like grip. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat as his palms began to sweat. He wriggled slightly. “D-Dad…you’re hurting me.”
Riven gave him a cold glance before releasing his arm. November immediately rubbed it, already feeling a bruise starting to form. The man placed a firm hand on November’s shoulder, leading him further down the hall.
“Come, we need to talk.”
November’s brows furrowed in question. “Talk? A-About what?” Had something happened? Had he done something wrong again? Did Mitch want more money? He wiped his sweaty palms against his pants.
His father gave no answer, instead keeping his eyes on the course ahead. November frowned. What could be so important, or terrible, that his father would come all the way to the castle to see him?
And where were they going?
Ik another cliffhanger lol
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebAnd I didn’t tag anyone else but @koshka 🤦🏻♀️ @elishavet-pidyon @freedomwriter76 @joy-caroline @anyone-who-cares XD
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebRiven. I really am coming to get you this time. Just let me find where I put my poison arrows…
and uh, where exactly your address happens to be…
2,000 words? That’s awesome! (And way more than I’m averaging every two weeks, but let’s not talk about that.) Huzzah!!
First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)
Fork the Gork
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