Yep, they keep coming. I’m in a good mood, what with hockey season starting, so I’m letting you all have another chapter—and a battle scene, no less!
The Third Gate loomed up before them as Harael followed Teramus, a half dozen other priests, and a horde of Phoenix Guards through the camp. The top of the Second Gate lit up briefly as fires were summoned and thrown down beyond it. The slopes of the mountain pass ahead flickered with light. Priests were involved already. Continue reading
Another chapter so soon? Crazy, I know. I’ve been really making these sparse for the last while, but with how close I’m getting to finishing, I thought I’d let a couple more trickle out here over the next few weeks. They’ll likely all be Harael chapters. And without further ado, I give you Harael’s fourth chapter…
Harael sighed in relief as he crested the rise in the road. Down the far slope, winding north, the stone road led to the sprawl that was Barrier. The military camp, and the city that had sprung up around it, pooled around the foothills of the Pirin Mountains, clutching the road north like a stone and metal fist. Continue reading
A quick update on All Flames Cast: I went back and re-titled all of my chapter posts on here, because naming them “Chapter One”, “Chapter Two”, etc. was a bit misleading. Instead, I’ve gone with the character names and where the chapters fall into their specific sequences. I think I’m going to post, at most, two more chapters after this, as I’m really starting to get into the meat of the book and I’m nearing completion of the first draft. As that is, enjoy Harael’s next chapter—it’s a long one!
Harael awoke to pounding on the Dawn of Embers. He was confused, at first, as it seemed come from everywhere. When he forced himself to sit up in his bed, he realized it was really only in two locations: the door to his quarters, and the very intimate inside of his skull. He groaned, and flopped back down onto his pillow. He began to burrow his head underneath it when the shouting outside started. Continue reading
The roar of celebration was overwhelming. Harael and Teramus cheered, mugs of ale held aloft, as a group of young red-robed apprentices linked arms and danced in the street. A four-piece band played on the nearest corner, and their pace picked up when they saw the youngsters dancing.
The increased speed led to mistakes, and one fresh-faced lad stumbled over an uneven cobblestone. The whole line of apprentices went down in a pile on top of and around him. Laughter erupted from the bystanders, and more drinks were poured. Serving girls from the taverns on the street wove through the crowd, collecting empty cups and mugs, passing out pitchers of ale and wine and more potent drinks. It was pandemonium, and it gladdened Harael’s heart to see it. If anything could redeem his friend in the Faith, it was a display like this. Continue reading
As I’m sure many people are now fully aware, certain shocking and series-changing events occurred in the most recent Game of Thrones episode, this Sunday. As a long-time fan of the books, I was looking forward to seeing the reactions from all of the TV viewers; however, the whole shebang got me thinking about my own reaction to reading the scene, four years ago, and my thoughts on it follow:
As so many people discovered to their dismay this past Sunday night, George R. R. Martin really doesn’t have any compunctions against killing off his characters. The Red Wedding hit, in all of its brutal, awful finality, and the TV viewers were fully immersed in the world that readers of A Song of Ice and Fire have been living in for the past 13 years.
The reactions to this scene have been nothing but par for the course. As a reader myself, I distinctly remember the horror I experienced when reading that last, fateful, Catelyn chapter. Expletives certainly fit the situation. On the internet Sunday night and into Monday—and, undoubtedly, all week—fans took to their keyboards to loose strings of four-letter words at Martin, at the show, at HBO, and at the writers and producers. A common theme, once the profanity was sifted through, was a prevailing sense of “what next?”
Many viewers expressed a lack of interest in the show going forward, saying that there was simply no sense in maintaining a viewership for a show that does such awful things to its characters. Indeed, many readers put down A Storm of Swords after reading the scene, and a good number of them never picked it up again. Among those who did, many said that they never felt the same emotional investment in the characters and books, because it simply wasn’t worth the pain anymore.
All this hoopla over the Red Wedding is understandable, really. People died, painfully, horrifically, in front of us; to make things worse, they were the good guys. However, instead of just letting this all roll forward, from an entertainment point-of-view, we should all take a step back and look at just exactly what GRRM has done here.
It was obvious from the first book that even main characters were not surrounded by plot armor; the mind-blowing execution of Lord Eddard Stark, supposed protagonist of A Game of Thrones, was enough to pound that issue home. His death was received by fans with shock. Who saw that coming? However, it did more than just overturn a major fantasy trope (something Martin is exceedingly fond of doing): it established a tone for the whole series. It was not a random killing. It was not a character death thrown in solely to show the readers—and, eventually, viewers—that Martin wasn’t afraid to kill people off.
Instead, the death of Ned Stark displayed, in fell manner, one of the essential underpinnings of Westeros: actions have consequences. This is high fantasy, yes, but nothing will be handed to the characters, be they honorable and upright or practically dragged from the pits of hell. The result of this is that, all too often, those honest characters usually suffer the most dire consequences of all. Without plot armor and Deus ex machina, they suddenly need to play by the rules.
And here is the catch. While many fans are spouting vitriol and announcing their intents to avoid the series henceforth, wailing and gnashing their teeth, they are missing the point.
What Martin did, both with Ned’s beheading and with the Red Wedding, was make us care. He has given this series real meaning, and given real satisfaction to the achievements other characters have made. Every time now that Arya does something crafty and survives, every time Jon Snow upholds his values, and every time Tyrion displays his political savvy, we are reminded that these events aren’t lip service to the genre’s conventions. In the Seven Kingdoms, good things don’t happen to good people because they’re good people. Good things happen to people who earn them. And, in a world filled from top to bottom with strict social rules, it should be no surprise that flouting those standards can sometimes result in fatal consequences.
So, instead of abandoning Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire, fans should savor their triumphs all the more. Yes, the Red Wedding was stunning and horrifying. The very fact that it had such a tremendous impact upon the fanbase should stand as testament to the true magic that George R. R. Martin has spun together in this story.
We care, and we should keep on caring. Further trials await in the world of Westeros and Essos, from the Wall in the North to Dorne in the south, but triumphs await as well. It is only through that combination of failings and successes that we get true satisfaction for taking this journey.
Read on, people, and keep watching.
dcafwriting 