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That sounds like an interesting and wild cosmology- and I love the collision of the Speech and the Old Speech.

It seems like something should have happened more overtly between Lise asking for a translation and Lise taking directly to Will- perhaps not magic, or at least willful magic, but something changed there and I don't even have guesses what it was.

... And now I'm expecting that "we are servants of the High Magic" is going to be important, in future chapters. You don't just say something like that, not in either of the Speeches, without people listening.

Jacob stared at the boy, bundled up in an oversized raincoat and hat. Ahead of him, his four companions were beginning to turn. "It's from a book," the young wizard said, bewildered. "Is there a problem?"

One of the boy's companions, the only girl, stepped closer to him. "Will?" she said. "What's going on?"

The boy - Will - half-turned, flicking out a hand towards his friends, and in that moment everything stopped. The rain hung in the air, a nearby sheep paused mid-chew, and the other four children froze in place.

Will looked back at Jacob, folding his arms. "I won't let you harm them," he said levelly. "If you serve the Dark, you know I'll protect them."

"Whoa, whoa!" Jacob held up his hands. "We're not- the Dark is so not our thing."

"Only the servants of the Light and the Dark would know the prophecy you spoke of," Will said, "and you are no Old Ones." His gaze flickered to Lise, and uncertainty crept into his voice. "Unless… but no, she's much too young. The Lady wouldn't… surely..."

Jacob's mind was whirling as he took in what was happening. He opened his mouth, but Lise caught at his arm before he could speak.

"Any chance you could translate?" she hissed. "I can understand you, the Speech is good like that, but him…" She shrugged.

Jacob blinked, going over the last few moments. Surely Will was speaking English? But there was something about it, something strange… "The Old Speech," he whispered. "I didn't even realise…"

"I guess that's different from the Speech-Speech," Lise concluded. She looked up the path at Will, studying him. "Hey, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'm getting a distinctly Dark is Rising feel here."

Will's head jerked back slightly. "The Dark is rising," he agreed, and Jacob was sure he was speaking English now. "But who are you to speak of it? You are not of the Circle, so-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna stop you there." Lise pulled out her Manual and flicked to a blank page. She muttered a few words in the Speech, then used her finger to draw a symbol on the paper - a large circle, quartered by a cross. Flipping the book round, she showed it to Will. "There. Tell me someone from the Dark could do that."

Will looked even more uncertain. "So you are Old Ones? But, Lady-"

"We're not," Lise interrupted again. "We're… Jacob, help me out here."

Jacob had been watching the boy ahead. "Just… before I do," he said slowly. "Are you… actually Will Stanton, youngest of the Old Ones?"

"I am," the boy said, calm once more. "So who are you, and how do you know me?"

Jacob shook his head slightly, processing that simple statement. Will Stanton was the main character of the Dark is Rising sequence, which were fiction, he was almost certain. Although… he glanced at his Manual, just sticking out of his pocket. Maybe the fact/fiction line was a little more blurred than he'd thought.

Will was clearly getting impatient for an answer. Jacob searched his memory of the books for one. If they weren't Old Ones or creatures of the Dark… well, there was the Wild Magic, but that was pretty messed-up. But hinted at in the later books, and never really described… "The High Magic," he said into the unnatural quiet. "We are servants of the High Magic."

Will studied his face, seeming to be much closer than he actually was. Then he nodded fractionally. "I will not hinder you in your work," he said, "and nor will my friends." He glanced at one of the other children, whose pale hair wasn't quite hidden under his cap - Bran. "And give my regards to your Lord, when you see him."

"We will," Lise confirmed. "Um… should we get out of sight before you undo the time freeze… thing?"

A small smile crept onto Will's face. "That sounds tricky to explain, don't you think?" His brow furrowed, and a moment later time started up again.

"Will?" Bran said, joining the girl (who had to be Jane) at his side. "You look like you've seen an anysbryd - a ghost."

"It's nothing," Will said, holding eye contact with Jacob. Then he smiled and turned, draping an arm over Bran's shoulders. "Nothing," he repeated, "just the mountains spooking me… sounded like they called my name, that's all. Now come on, where's this lake?"

---

Author's Miscellaneous Notes:
-Names have been changed for Jacob and Lise; Will, Bran, and Jane (and Simon and Barney) are still using their own.
-Someone fluent in the Speech can listen in it, understanding other languages - but at less than a day on the book, Jacob shouldn't be able to do that.
-The nature of the Light and the Dark, and of the three magics (Old, Wild, and High) will be discussed more next chapter. Spoilers - the High Magic sounds a lot like wizardry.
-Yes, Bran is one of those people who speaks foreign words (Welsh) and then translates them. He does this a lot in the books.
-The Dark is Rising series, by Susan Cooper, is amazing. I reread the titular volume (which is second in the series) over the last couple of days, and the way it builds on both suspense and understanding in superb. It, along with Rosemary Sutcliff's Eagle of the Ninth, is one of the two Young Adult books from my childhood that I will always recommend.

hS

The Barony of Vixenmage shall not be divided as heretofore stated; rather, it shall pass in its entirety to Baron Larf J. Stockins. Enclosed by the Meibot and the mountains, bordering the open sea and the deep forests of Kar'eer, let it be a home for his wanderings henceforth.



Also let him declare an actual place of abode, since addressing things to 'somewhere in Plort' doesn't work very well. ;) If he does not, a region in the gulleyed regions of north-eastern Sittorese shall be designated the Larfen J. Hovel, and all mail be forwarded there.

(You could probably just have a shack on the outskirts of La Wunj = the Lounge and go for that. It wouldn't be the first Baronial Lean-To.)

~Huinesoron, Baron of Plort, speaking the terms of the Edict

(relevant things, I mean.)

I'd say go with that summer, if you still want to write it. ^^

I finally get to hold all of Wechi, and then my loyal apprentice jumps up and snatches the bit I only just got under control, not to mention my holdings in Sittorese that are just now beginning to bear fruit from the fields I sewed. Sheesh.

But you know what? It's fine. I'm sure he'll hold it very well, assuming he can be bothered to set foot outside his shiny new hermitage now and then.

At least I've still got my other loyal apprentices, who definitely aren't on any sort of path to renown in their own right any time soon what with all the effort they've put into Diskord and Borrd and Geymez and...

...

It's fine.

Dammit I'm so proud.

(( ^_~ ))

Flag of Barony Larf

Yes, Diskord - with its rolling hills, and misty mornings, and the long fields of rustling grass, and all the wolves and buzzards that are constantly following me around waiting for me to be weakened enough by the elements to that they can eat me.

Ah, but the Riding of Sittories! How can I forget her gulleys, her dramatic crags, her majestic pine trees, like pillars to hold up Heaven itself, and the wild dogs and crows that replace the wolves and buzzards and also follow me around waiting to eat me.

But worry not for me! Call me not 'vagrant' or 'homeless'; for I am an eternal wanderer, and my castle is the land, itself - yes, all its high, cold places, to the damp, dark ones, with their roots and secrets.

But, y'know, I think a shack would be nice. Or at least some sort of umbrella. And perhaps something to scare all the hungry wild animals off me.
I probably ought to get a proper flag, too, given that my current one, made out of a potato sack drawn on with charcoal, has been torn terribly over the years, partially on account of all those wolves and buzzards and such.

(I always did feel like my relationship to fandom and the PPC was generally pretty well analogous to an ambulatory homeless man

Lord knows how that Barony ended up on him!

And, uh, I should also probably figure that whole heraldry stuff out, too.)

How /else/ would you pronounce it? 'Dogger'? 'Dee-oh-gee-ay'? Don't be ludicrous.

hS

The last two lines of the story made me start to cry a little. What a beautifully powerful moment the story had been building up to.

Lots of love for this one. <3

The wizard who walked down the mountain still didn’t know her name. Not completely.

“It’ll be an adventure, finding out who I am,” she’d said. “Almost as big as this one.”

The wizard who walked down the mountain carried more promises than she’d brought up it.

(Always listen,) Naldross had said, and she had listened.

The wizard who walked down the mountain had spoken with a Great Power, in the moment of her Renaming.

“And all I remember is Her name,” she had said. “The Mother of Lost Things.”

The wizard who walked down the mountain had a book in her backpack and a wand of maple-wood close to her heart.

(You’ll need this,) Naldross had said.

The wizard who walked down the mountain had once been named James.

“Call me Julia,” she’d said.

---

Assorted Annotations from the Author

Many thanks to my betas Iximaz and Tomash.

Julia is trans- she’d been hiding from it almost since she’d put down her Manual for the first time. After her Ordeal, she spent six months using disguise spells to fit what people expected a transition to look like, and was very relieved at the end of it when she didn’t have to hide her true self ever again.

Julia held her timestall for seventy-one hours. Not a record, but still very impressive for a spell originally intended to give a wizard a couple extra minutes at most.

Had Julia chosen to run, the pyroclastic flow would have reached the gate in thirty seconds. Even with the forcing spell, an Oathbreaking in its own right to speak, it would have taken Julia forty-five seconds to open.

The little voice, not just fear but also a fragment of the Lone Power, knew this. It didn’t interfere in Ordeals frequently, such interference invited the Great Powers to intervene in turn. This one seemed like it couldn’t lose- and it wanted to watch Julia die, oath broken and screaming.

The Mother of Lost Things has many children but few wizards, who She cherishes above all other things. Julia was Hers as soon as she’d reshelved her Manual, and She made sure the book opened to the Oath when Julia needed it most.

The wizard woke in twilight, to a soft nothingness that surrounded her. She brushed ash-gray hair clear of ash-gray eyes, sat, looked around.

A familiar shape loomed in the distance, half-hidden by the mist.

“Naldross?” she asked. “Did it work?”

(Will you just listen, for once?) the eldest tree in the forest asked, not unkindly.

Below, downhill, off the mountain that had been her Ordeal, all the trees of the forest were softly singing in praise of unexpected rain.

Delta - Today at 8:35 PM
Aaaaaaaaa?
That's... terrifying
Very terrifying
With a side of "something is having fun toying with a newbie wizard and that's extra double special terrifying."


Delta - Today at 9:06 PM
...ow.
Yup, that's the pushed-to-the-breaking-point and offered-the-chance-to-run checkboxes checked.

Delta - Today at 9:43 PM
Ooh, ow.


Delta - Today at 9:47 PM
Aww!
That is fantastic.

That is a brutally personal Ordeal and I love it- makes Julia's light-hearted fiddling around with volcanoes seem just a little bit trivial in comparison.

They're the revised editions. From what I've heard, it's mainly timeline fixes (and the attendant smoothing out of the massive tech level disparities between books) as well as some revisions to A Wizard Alone so that Darryl's autism is handled better.

- Tomash

((So, I wrote this having barely any memory of the Young Wizards series, so hopefully the Ordeal is in line with what works for canon. I sorta spammed this one at Delta over PMs and thought it was good enough to share with y'all, so... enjoy.))

She backed down the corridor, her breaths becoming quick and shallow when she realized the door she'd come through had slammed shut. There was no sign of a handle, or even a crack to show where the door had been; it was just a smooth wall with a mirror. She stared back at her reflection, gaze focusing in on the way her braces-covered teeth jutted out.

Laughter echoed in the maze and she flinched, clutching her Manual closer to her. She couldn't see the source, just an endless corridor full of mirrors. She began walking, her steps hesitant, nervous.

So many mirrors. Her skin crawled as her eyes shifted to glance at her reflection as she passed.

Her knees were too knobby. Her face was covered in acne. She was too tall and gangly. Her jaw looked crooked from the hinge glued to her teeth, and her huge, dorky glasses emphasized how square her face looked.

And those pigtails. God, what had she been thinking? Never mind how much her mother told her the knotted pigtails looked adorable on her, they were hardly considered attractive at her school.

She was too scrawny. Her boobs were too big, to the point where the other girls had tried stealing her clothes, demanding to know if she stuffed her bra.

The laughter echoed down the corridor again.

Her reflections began shifting slightly as she passed, and she knew, in the way one knows when one is dreaming, exactly what each mirror was showing her. She couldn't avoid seeing it. In that one—she was a failure. She was stupid. She was pathetic. She was useless. Worthless. Ugly. A loser.

Useless. Stupid. Pathetic. Worthless. Useless. Stupid. Pathetic. Worthless.

All her worst fears laid out for her to see, and she broke into a run, the laughter getting louder.

She ran into a circular room coated in mirrors, and when she turned around to try a different path, she found the way out had disappeared.

"Stop it!" she screamed.

"Stop it! Stop it!" her voice echoed tauntingly.

"Leave me alone!"

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

She dropped her Manual and covered her eyes, sinking to the floor.

"Crybaby! Crybaby!"

"She thinks she can be a wizard!"

"She can't even pass fifth grade!"

"Hahahaha!"

She screamed, and the mirrors shattered, the glass falling to the floor with a soft tinkle at odds with the reverberating screams.

When she opened her eyes, the room was clear of glass, empty save for her, her Manual, and... herself, staring at her with a curious glee.

She stared back. "Who are you?"

The other her smiled. "You know me," she said. "I've been with you for years now... that little voice in your head, that entity looking over your shoulder, watching every last little mistake you make..." She began circling, eerily reminiscent of a shark. "Do you have any idea how stupid you were to come here? No, probably not. If you did, you wouldn't be in this situation in the first place."

The would be wizard slowly crouched to grab her Manual, not taking her eyes off the doppelgänger. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered.

The doppelgänger laughed. "Why? Because I can. It's not like you've ever tried to stop me before. Loser."

She swallowed; her palms were slick with sweat and her knees were shaking. "You're my Ordeal?"

The doppelgänger rolled her eyes. "Uh, duh." The circling continued. As she walked, she began to change, going from knobby-kneed, acne-covered, to... beautiful. Breathtaking. Poised, confident. The doppelgänger stopped, spreading her hands and smirking. "That's the problem with you... well, one of a really long list of many. You're always too busy overthinking things. Idiot. Of course I'm the Ordeal; what else could this possibly be?"

She lowered her eyes, blinking back tears. Of course. Of course. She should have known from the moment she entered the maze. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"You are stupid," the doppelgänger said coldly. "But hey, you're not a totally lost cause yet. Maybe if you ditched your Manual and went home, put all this behind you, accept you'll only ever be mediocre at best, you might actually be worth something." She shrugged. "Or you can stay in here and die of starvation. Seems more likely. Too dumb to cut her losses and run, and try to salvage what's left of your pathetic life."

"Why are you so mean?!" She burst out. "What did I ever to to make you hate me?"

The doppelgänger was suddenly standing in front of her, eyes blazing. "Absolutely nothing. And that's what makes it so. Damn. Easy."

They stared at each other for a long minute; the silence stretched between them, tension palpable. She was trembling; the words were familiar, words she'd thought hundreds, thousands of times before, but never had they come from such a familiar face.

The doppelgänger laughed and turned away. "Oh, wow, you really think that?" She turned back, and her face had changed, mirroring the wizard's again. Acne, glasses, braces, and everything else that just emphasized how ugly she was. The doppelgänger opened her mouth, clutching dramatically at her cheeks. "Maybe if I wasn't such a faliure, Mom would love me!"

"You're me," she realized, her heart sinking.

The doppelgänger applauded sarcastically. "Took you long e-freaking-nough."

"But if you're me," she muttered, "then that means I'm..."

"Your own Ordeal, yes, yes. Get on the same page already, gawd."

"Shut up!" she snapped. "I'm thinking."

"In your own slow, dimwitted way, maybe."

"SHUT UP!" Her voice echoed around them. "You're not—you're—you can't just say things like that!"

A soft light flared out from around her, and then faded.

"And why not?" the doppelgänger said, before she had a chance to wonder at the light. "You've been saying them to yourself for years! Why stop now?"

"Because... because..." She trailed off, closing her eyes. Every instinct in her body was screaming at her that she was about to say something she couldn't take back; that what she was about to say couldn't possibly be true, but if this was her Ordeal, and her small act of defiance had caused that light to appear... maybe this was what she had to do. Maybe... she just had to believe. "Because you're wrong."

Light flared out around her again. The doppelgänger flinched back like she'd been struck. "What?"

"Because you're wrong," she repeated, more loudly, and the light brightened. She could see more of her surroundings now; she could have sworn she'd been standing on concrete, but there was grass under her feet now, soft and springy, and gently illuminated by the light coming from her. "Because maybe I'm not the best at everything. And maybe I'm not the bravest, or the smartest, or the prettiest—but I'm doing my best, you hear me?!"

The light kept growing, and she began walking towards the doppelgänger, hands tightening around her Manual. "I took the Oath because it gave me hope! I thought I could finally make something of myself!"

"You were wrong!" the doppelgänger yelled, jerking away from the light as it reached her. "You were wrong, you're going to fail at being a wizard, just like you've failed everything else—"

"I haven't failed yet, though!" she yelled back, and hope swelled in her chest and the light brightened, showing off the grass and flowers under her feet. "And if I haven't failed, there's still a chance! I can keep going and—and improving, and getting better, and nothing you can say will stop me!" She opened her Manual, running her fingers over its pages. "I will put aside fear for courage, and death for life, when it is right to do so—and I will not be afraid of myself any more!"

The light became painfully bright and she shielded her eyes; when it died down, the doppelgänger was gone. She was standing in a forest glen, surrounded by sunlight and birdsong. In front of her was a small lantern, its flame burning hot and bright.

She knelt and carefully picked it up by the handle, smiling through her tears. It would take more than one moment of defiance to make her really, truly believe the things she'd said—but she knew that she'd been right, about being able to improve.

She was still afraid, dreadfully afraid—but she wasn't going to let the fear hold her down like before. She was a wizard. Maybe not the best, maybe not the brightest, but a wizard all the same.

And surely, that had to count for something.

From context, I'm guessing that's the revised timeline of the books, but I can't work out what it stands for.

... If I figure out anything to write about myself, it'll be 1999, probably. I graduated from middle school and turned 14 that June, and so very much wanted it to be important; I had a thing about that number for some reason. Also, the run-up to the turn of the century sounds like a good time for an Ordeal, even if it probably won't have anything to do with anything people were actually worried about around then. None of which happened. Possibly thanks to wizards who had their acts together. {= )

Oddly enough, we went on vacation to North Carolina that summer. Nowhere near the Piedmont; we were camping on the Outer Banks. And there were lots of sharks in the water at the time... which we didn't find out until pretty much the last day. We just thought we were lucky to have the beach near our campsite so empty. >.>

There was also a really cool storm that rolled out to sea over us, and then came back again going the other direction. Sounds like potential wizardly shenanigans, if I can just work out why.

And it was one of the last times I got to hang out with my best friend from daycare and elementary school in Pittsburgh. (We moved to Michigan when I was in first grade.) We used to look for signs of alien life together and were totes going to get married someday. So now I know who my wizardly partner would be. {= )

~Neshomeh

I think I said it earlier, but hey, beginning and end of the day, why not? Congrats on defending your thesis, too!

A silver shield of a writer's strain.
A hunter lost and wracked with pain.
A youth of blue and a heart of flight.
A spirit given wings of white.
A beast from an era long ago.
A fallen star with an amber glow.
All must rise to heed the call,
To bring salvation of one and all.

COMING SOON TO THE PPC... EVENTUALLY...

Anyway, yeah. I'm also looking for one additional beta for a mission I'm currently writing involving Big Hero 6, Inside Out, Frozen, and a couple of shenanigans with a mind-reading spell gone wrong. Soooo, if anyone wants, just e-mail me and I'll send it once it's ready!

You'll have to see what fits when you decide how you're handling it. Just bear in mind what you know of the PPC universe (the more you read, the better) and be sure it fits. And also listen to your eventual betas if they have concerns.

(DOGA is totally pronounced like "toga" and I will not be persuaded otherwise. *g*)

~Neshomeh

1. Alright, I'm going to read that. *holds in a joke about how I pronounce DOGA and how that pronunciation rhymes with toga*
   
   2. In this case, it's not really all comedic or all dramatic. It's meant to be as part of either character development or a face-heel turn, depending on where this agent goes. What would likely happen in that case?
   
   -Twistey

I should probably wait my turn, but just to let you guys know I'm here. Wow, those holos are... I must look away but I can't.

-Twistey