The PPC Posting Board - Latest posts

The rest, I'm pretty sure I can wait for the reveals for. =P

Julia’s second plan, created in consultation with Naldross and the cloud as the sun still balanced, ruby-red, fire-red on the horizon, was no less audacious than her first.

She wasn’t going to try to hold back the cloud. She wasn’t going to fight something that had asked for her help.

She was going to change it.

It was going to be a big spell. It was going to be a big circle- the only construction Julia could get to conjugate was to wrap the circle around the mountain entire, capturing the peak and the cloud roaring down it inside.

It was going to take a lot of energy. Fortunately for Julia, the cloud already had a lot of energy- thermal and kinetic energy, that she was going to have to transmute into the magical energy it would take to turn ash and stone to water.

And she was going to need to balance out all that energy- just handling the side-effects, the leftovers of that transmutation would count as a major working in its own right.

And worst of all, she still had no idea what would go in the most important part of the spell- the circle for her name. The circle where she would stand.

(I am not a wizard,) Naldross had said, (I do not know your art. I cannot help you with this.)

The timestall had slipped, once, twice, the cloud gobbling up distance downhill every time before Julia stabilized it. Just holding that spell in her mind hurt, a painful knot of chronocausal energy building with each second she held back death.

She walked the perilous path again, and again, asking stones to shift and move and make it a perfect circle. The red sun balanced on the horizon, frozen, as Julia walked the circle again, marker in hand, drawing an unbroken circle four miles long.

The body of the spell was not complicated, but it too had to be written around the length of the circle. Julia’s hold on the timestall slipped once more, while she was on the far side of the mountain, the cloud rushed forwards again- she was close enough to hear its scream of despair, now, before she once again propped up the spell burning in her mind.

It was done an immeasurable eternity later. Julia’s knees were bleeding, her arms were aching, the timestall burned in her mind as hot as the flame that burned in the cloud and she stood in a hole in the spell, the last hole, the place where her name had to go, where the anchor had to go for more energy than she had any idea what to do with, and she had no idea how to fill it.

They were both made wrong, the cloud had said. They had known what was wrong with the cloud, Julia had known how to fix it- but as for herself, there was nothing. She couldn’t write her own name, because she didn’t even know it.

There had been a spell for this!

It was one of the scary ones, one of the untwisting ones, one of the fixing ones. Julia could barely focus on her Manual as she searched through it, all the words that weren’t written in the Speech beyond her pained ability to focus.

But there it was. The diagram had stood out to her even in idle flipping- it wasn’t a circle. The Arc of Duane was a spiral, a spell that cut inwards to the heart of anything with life that it was wrapped around. It would consume the tremendous amount of energy Julia needed it to, and it would use all of it to petition the Great Powers. “Who should this person be?”, the Arc would ask. Who were they meant to be? And then it asked Them to rename the wizard-who-no-longer-thought-her-name-was-James, to bring what should be to reality.

The warnings were mercifully and terribly clear. Renaming magic was a terrifyingly powerful thing. To invoke the Great Powers like this would leave Julia owing a significant favor to the entirety of the universe. And perhaps more significantly, the Arc did not care for external reality- a person renamed was a person remade, body and soul.

There were two examples, great works that had used the Arc of Duane to mend or destroy. None of them wrapped it around a wizard. The examples given had put extra circles, buffers, between the worker and the spiral, to ensure that they would be safe from its remaking.

Julia was out of time, out of strength, out of options. She drew the start of the Arc in the space she had left, knowing that each term would follow the first.

And then she read. One word at a time, one step at a time, she walked the perilous path once more. She read the smaller loop, the one that circled Naldross and placed him outside the spell, outside of the dragon’s-breath blast of the unchanged cloud. And then she stepped into her place, inside the inmost circle-that-was-not-a-circle and read the first term, and the second, and the third, a recursive spiral that shrank into a simple prayer.

“Please help. Please help. Please-”

The timestall failed, the world roared, the cloud surged forward and Julia felt the spell flare to life an instant before darkness took her.

---

...And I will post the conclusion this evening because I am a terrible person who likes her cliffhangers far too much to give up the chance to hold one last one over you all.

I think it might be a good idea to mention the PPC Board as the original place these fics were written if/when folks are reposting them to the wider internet.

- Tomash

“You can talk,” Julia said, too stunned to make it anything other than a flat statement of fact.

(Everything that has life can speak,) the tree said. (As long as you have the patience to listen.)

“I-” Julia said, shame flashing across her face as she realized she hadn’t taken the time, not once in an entire week, to listen. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been listening.”

(You probably want to change that,) the tree said. (In something less than the second we have left.)

“I will,” Julia promised. “Hi- for what good it’s done me, my name is-”

The girl who had thought her name was James sighed, into the frozen last moment of day.

“They call me James,” she said, softly. “I think I’m failing my Ordeal.”

The tree sighed, a long rustle of wind through its leaves.

(I am Naldross,) it-he, the suffix made clear, said. (I am sorry, wizard-who-others-call-James. You were sent here not knowing how to listen and not knowing your own name, and that is a hard place to win a battle from.)

“What do you know of battle?” Julia asked. “You’re a tree-”

(Have you not yet read of the Battle of the Trees, young wizardling?) Naldross asked. (We fought the darkness for you, wizard-who-others-call-James, before your kind walked your world. And I was there. I was scarcely more than a sapling, in my wandering years, but I was there and I fought in the greatest battle of the age.)

“You’re- you’re ancient!” Julia said, feeling the tree echo just how true it was. “And- and I was just going to leave you, to face my mistake.”

Hot tears ran down her face, dropped to the earth below her.

“What should I do?” Julia asked, after. “How do I fix this?”

(You start by listening,) Naldross said. (What does the cloud want?)

“What do you mean?” Julia asked. “It’s a pyroclastic flow, it wants to burn-”

She stopped herself. “Hang on. Are clouds alive?”

(Why don’t you ask it?) Naldross said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Julia thought for a second and then realized that it was a suggestion. She stood, looked up at the looming cloud, the dragons-breath blast that technically was still racing to consume her and Naldross and everything else.

Climbing the mountain was the hardest thing Julia had ever done. She’d hiked at twelve thousand feet, where the air was a ghostly shadow of itself. She’d climbed ropes at the end of gym class, arms and lungs burning with every inch climbed. She’d hiked the last of a fifteen-mile day, limbs leaden and will sapped.

This was something else entirely. She could feel the heat pouring off the cloud, the breath of the dragon, and knew that every step was a step closer to annihilation. She had nothing- no plans, no backup, no name, just a hastily-spoken spell holding death at bay.

And then she was there, smelling the sulfur, smelling the smoke, an arm’s length from a wall of death.

“Hi,” Julia said. “I thought my name was James. I think I’m failing my Ordeal. Can you… hear me?”

And then she waited. And then she listened.

When the cloud spoke, it was faint- a thousand tiny voices, yelling as one to be heard at all.

(Hello,) the cloud said. (We hear you, child of Life.)

“What… do you want?” Julia asked. She already knew the answer, it was obvious, it was an assumption and she pushed the thought down, tried to clear her mind, tried to hear the answer.

(To fly,) the voices of the cloud said, and at the same time (to carry) and (to give).

“You carry fire and bring death,” Julia said, softly.

(We know,) the cloud said, sadly, as one. (We are not as we should be. Same as you, wizard-who-thought-her-name-was-James. Can you help us?)

The request waited, unanswered, for a long second.

“I’ll try,” Julia promised.

I recommend that this topic be re-raised at the top of the Board, since this was buried in a serious discussion and a lot of folks might not have seen it before.

I can try to contribute to these once real life quiets down a bit.

- Tomash

Have a triple chocolate cupcake (chocolate with chocolate chips and chocolate icing)! Don't forget to make a wish and blow out the candle!

It's gonna be really interesting to see how an Ordeal appears from here- and I'm guessing we're in for a double Ordeal, too. And I'm now tempted to go get myself a copy of Dark is Rising, because I haven't read it and missed every single one of those references.

I really am curious, several knowable things happened this chapter...

First of all, let it be known to all that Baron Vixenmage of the Diskord and the Riding has been absent from these shores for a year or more; therefore, to ensure the succour of the Barony, it has been divided between Baronies Juliette and Eshakhar.

Now, let the new Barons of the Union of Plort come forth, that each may choose their lands under the Edict. Behold, the map of Konti-Nyuum!



The five nations of the Union stand united under the Council of Plort, each under the military authority of its barons. In Borrd [the Board], oldest of our lands, six barons hold the reins of governance. Wechi [the Wiki] has but one baron, while Ozerbord [the Other Board], empty now save for a few visitors and Protector Tomash, has and needs none.

The Riding of Sittorese [story-writing, crossovers] is quartered under four, while the divided halves of the Diskord [Discord], the Geymez [games] and La Wunj [lounge, chat] regions to west and east, are guarded by one apiece.

Let the barons come forth and declare their ordinary residences, and the lands of their interests. Then shall the Edict of Bast be invoked, and present to them their new baronies.

[In other words: say which countries you associate most with, ie which parts of the community you're most involved in, and I'll plot out a barony for you. It will always include your castle, if you have one; so go ahead and name where that is.]

~Huinesoron, Baron of Plort

Yes, I called it. =V

And that tree gives good advice, Julia! You should listen to it!

And book geekery saving the day! ... Or maybe just landing them in more trouble. XD

Maybe they're even IN the story, now!

The two young wizards walked through the mist, seeing nothing but the gravel underfoot. All sound was gone - not the silence of a spell being spoken, but the muffling of a heavy blanket lying over everything.

Lise wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "I don't like this," she said, her voice eerily deadened. "It's like… like the breath of the Grey King."

Jacob stopped in his tracks, and Lise vanished into the fog for a few seconds before reemerging, hurrying back. "You've read the Dark is Rising books?" he asked, surprise written in his voice.

"Of course I have; they're great." Lise squinted at him. "Have you?"

"Loads of times. I just didn't think you'd have them in America."

"We have pretty much everything," Lise said. "Our library system is amazing. So is that why you came to Wales?"

Jacob laughed, but the mist sucked the sound away. "No, we come every year… but actually, did you know this is even the right part of Wales? This is the path that leads up to the Bearded Lake."

"Bearded…" Lise's eyes lost focus for a second. "Oh, where Jane nearly gets eaten by the monster?"

"That's the one." The pair started walking again, veering left slightly as the path curved. "Silver on the Tree. I think it's my second-favourite book of the series."

"I like both the Welsh ones," Lise said. "Will and Bran are the best… so what's your favourite?"

"The Dark is Rising," Jacob said promptly. "It was the first one I read - Dad always thought Over Sea, Under Stone wasn't as good - and it's really stuck. Plus I really like the poems."

Lise grinned at him. "How does it go? When the Dark comes rising, Six will turn it back…"

"Three from the Circle," Jacob agreed, "Three from the Track. But the other one's more suitable, isn't it? By the Pleasant Lake the Sleepers lie, On Cadfan's Way where the kestrels call, Though grim from the Grey King shadows fall…"

"Yet singing the Golden Harp shall guide," Lise continued, "To break their sleep and bid them ride. We could use a bit of that 'guiding' here, amid the Grey King's mist."

Jacob chuckled and glanced off to the right. "Actually - does it look lighter to you?"

"Um… maybe." Lise wiped her glasses on her jumper, slipped them back on. "Yes, definitely."

"Then maybe it worked." Jacob raised his voice slightly, trying to beat back the silence. "Then fire shall fly from the Raven Boy, And silver eyes that see the wind, And the Light shall have the harp of gold."

The mist was definitely clearing now. Lise looked over at Jacob, frowning slightly. "Was that the Speech?"

"Er?" Jacob thought back. "I don't… think so?"

"I thought it… well, never mind." She flicked a hand in the direction of the group ahead of them on the path, a gaggle of five children around their age, as if in silent warning: Not around the Muggles. "So tell me about the Bearded Lake."

"Llyn Barfog," Jacob said, making sure to pronounce the Welsh name right. "It's covered in these plants, or half-covered - hence the name." A slab of slate, standing at the side of the path ahead, caught his eye. "But it's not the only thing up here."

"Oh?" Lise was looking at the ground now, faintly puzzled. "Hey, wasn't this-?"

"There's Carn March Arthur up ahead," Jacob said. "It's supposed to be the hoofprint of Arthur's horse. And there's-"

"-a proper path a minute ago?" Lise tried to interrupt, gesturing at the sodden earth beneath them, but Jacob went on over her.

"-Echo Valley just past the lake, you remember? The mountains are singing, and the Lady comes?"

Ahead, one of the children stiffened, stopping in the centre of the path. He turned slowly on one heel, until he was facing Jacob and Lise down the gently-sloping track between rain-soaked grass. There was not a trace of mist to be seen. "What," the boy asked, his eyes seeming to bore into them, "did you just say?"

---

Author's Miscellaneous Notes:
-Names, you get it.
-While obviously everyone should have read Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising, I'm trying to infodump the important information for those benighted souls who haven't.
-If you're wondering how Jacob is proficient enough in the Speech to accidentally slip into it after only a day... well, Lise is right there with you. ^_^

hS

Bad things get pointed out directly, don't you fear. ^_~

One of the themes of Young Wizards is that pretty much everything is 'alive' in some sense, and can talk to you if you listen. I can't recall anyone animating the inanimate in the books (Spot doesn't count; he gets upgraded by an alien computer), but it's not off-theme, and as Jacob said, we all do crazy things on Ordeal.

As shown by me addressing her as 'ma'am', the Area Senior is a bit of a stickler for the rules, even when those rules don't actually exist.

(Temporary Senior at 24? Not bad, me!)

hS

Having difficulty commenting because too busy holding my breath.

This is amazing.

hS

This is great! I've been on AO3 for so long that it feels like my reading home. Seeing PPC stories on there is a connection I hadn't realized I had been wishing for.

The burning cloud picked up speed as it fell. Pyroclastic flow, something inside Julia- who had written her name James, who had written herself as a boy, whose writing had failed- supplied.

I am going to die.

The cloud was moving faster. The weight of the cloud was slamming into the eruption still pouring out of the top of the volcano, it was racing down the side of the mountain, glowing red with its heat where it wasn’t lit red by the setting sun.

She didn’t have long. She couldn’t outrun the cloud of ash and fire. Something was laughing- and words rose to Julia’s mind unbidden, words in the Speech.

She spoke faster than she’d ever spoken before, not even tracking the english translation, raw concepts from a half-remembered page sharpening to clarity as she needed them, as the ash cloud raced closer, as she knew it would wipe the forest from existence with its draconic breath and it reached out a terrible hand-

Everything stopped. The wind, the noise, the cloud itself hung in thin air, a wall of seething hatred a hundred yards, a single second, away.

The timestall she’d just worked hovered in her memory- one of the spells she’d skimmed in the chapter on time magic. A spell to stop time in its tracks, to stretch a second into hours.

“What am I going to do now?” she asked.

You could run, a little voice supplied. She could see it- a spell to cover the distance between here and the gate she’d arrived through, another spell to blow the gate open in the seconds it would take for the pyroclastic flow to cover the distance. Better to fight another day…

Julia picked up her Manual to check the details, flipped it open-

Three hundred pages of novel and a page of warnings had vanished. The first page was now just the Oath.

“I will put aside fear for courage,” Julia read, softly, the words heavier than any she’d ever spoken in the Speech.

They felt impossibly small, in comparison to the devastation reaching to claim her. In comparison to the mess her failure had caused.

She could see it now. If she ran, if she broke her Oath- that was it. She’d go on, sure. But she wouldn’t be a wizard. Here lies James, the obituary would read. He was a wizard for like a week and then the going got tough and he ran away.

Or she could stand. She could accept the consequences of her failure, she could use the stretched second she had left to continue to fight, to continue the Ordeal.

She pushed herself back until she was leaning against the trunk of the maple tree, still glowing in the last gleam of sunlight, frozen a moment before annihilation struck.

Julia could see her failure written large on the rock in front of her- the spell which should have vanished cleanly was a charred ruin, the circle-in-the-circle where she had written her name so badly burned that it had twisted and pitted the rock beneath it.

That hadn’t been her name. That was the only explanation, hard though it was. She’d signed the wrong name and it had gone wrong and now she had nothing left- no time, no preparation, no name-

“What the hell am I going to do now?” she asked.

It was quiet for a long moment, a quiet in which nothing moved, in which nothing breathed. No ideas came to mind, no flash of inspiration, no plans.

And then into that emptiness, the tree spoke.

(You could try listening, for once,) it said.

---

Assorted Annotations from the Author

And now we're into the main body of the Ordeal- I've already got the last four chapters written, and will be posting them tomorrow once betas have given them an initial pass. Sometimes a story just writes itself, you know?

What's happening with the volcano is called fountain collapse. This sort of collapse-driven pyroclastic flow can travel for tens of kilometers at almost the speed of sound- a similar collapse on Mount Vesuvius overran and destroyed the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum in the infamous eruption of AD 79.

22, Tomash, congratulations, how old is that in human years, eh?

Errr

Suppose I'll start fizzling through the PG wiki page, then, figuring what's it we're meant to do with these hats...

I love the little domestic bits with Ave, Zeb, and Elanor- makes the PPC feel like more than just an office, you know?

I'm sorry if the whole "animating a small stuffed animal" thing is wrong for the setting, but I really didn't know. In my defence, I was trying for something thematic to Siobhan's character. Her speciality as a wizard is working in concert with non-human wizards and combining their approaches with her own. She's a researcher and coordinator rather than an action hero, because when I was 18? Action hero really wasn't an option for me either.

Speaking of which, Siobhan's story takes place in 2010, August thereof. It's just after she made a complete dog's breakfast of her A-levels - and two years after coming out to herself and some online friends as trans. I don't know quite how that syncs up with Jacob's timeline, but I think the Senior title might actually be earned at this point, given our respective IRL ages.

I hope that you still like the story, and that I haven't ballsed it up permanently. =]