“What happens if World Watercolour Month and Camp Nano meet halfway? What if I let myself be inspired - first by the prompts, and then by my own painting / drawing, and embark on the journey of discovering a new story along the way, 500 words or so at a time? I realise it's rather ambitious - a drawing / painting a day plus a minimum of 500 words, but I know it will be okay if I miss a day or two too. Or if I end up playing catch up. But I'm feeling excited about the possibilities this holds!”
Here’s today’s story instalment and the start to this crazy creative journey for July 2022! Read more on the “Why” for this project in this intro blog post here: "Emergence". Remember that what you will find here is the raw, unedited journey of this creative as the story emergence - including “zero draft” writing, typos and “bad lighting” photos (rather than not posting at all)…
Story Instalment: Prompt - “Train”
Even if a warrior could train their entire lifetime before facing the Fiery Isles, it would never be enough. Regardless of their skill, a lot of their success would depend on the will of the Tower. And the island’s mood. Or so legends had it. Tristan refused to believe that nonsense, believing firmly instead that he held his own destiny - and now Simone’s with it - in the skill of his own hands.
Simone leaned against his side, her body warm against his. Only the barest quiver in her usually steady voice betrayed her fear.
“Do you think we can make it?”
Tristan turned to her, taking both her hands in his. “Yes.” The word was soft, gentle, yet held all the conviction he could put into it. He couldn’t afford to believe anything else. Because if they didn’t succeed, not only would their life be forfeit, but also the future of their town.
Simone nodded, once, firmly, her eyes softening. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, a brief touch of their foreheads, and then let go. “We’d better get ready then”. A quick smile quirked her lips. Tristan nodded back at her, then turned towards his first mate. He had to squint into the fog to see even that short distance, and knew the storm was of course the island’s doing. Or perhaps it all emerged from the Tower, no one really knew where the Isles’ source of power really lay.
“Hoist the sails!”
There was a brief moment of hesitation from the first mate before his voice echoed Tristan’s firm command. Tristan might be a landlubber by birth, but he had spent his life studying the oceans. It didn’t take much to know that hoisting their sails in the midst of a fierce storm was the last thing they should be doing, but Tristan also knew to trust the voice whispering in his heart. And the voice was telling him to forge full steam ahead, to show the Isles that they weren’t afraid. Even if terror burned in his veins with every heart beat.
Shaking his thoughts aside, Tristan forced himself to focus simply on the nearest next step, to stop trying to think through all the possibilities. His knuckles turned white where he gripped the ships railing, feeling the ship dip and pull beneath him, as if the ocean was stretching out fingers, eager to pull them down. Simone’s hand rested on his, giving him strength.
“Hard to starboard!” The command was whisked away on the wind as soon as the words left his mouth, but the sudden tilt of the ship’s deck told him the first mate had heard it. Tristan continued to bark commands, not thinking but letting instinct guide him.
And suddenly, the Tower emerged from the mist, flanked by the vivid orange and reds of the Fiery Isles. Tristan found himself mesmerised, gazing into the Tower’s light, suddenly forced into a battle of wills. He could feel the Tower as surely as if it was a person standing right in from of him, scouring Tristan with its intense gaze. Tristan felt magic running across his skin, down his arms and up his neck and a sudden blinding pain flashed into his skull.
State your purpose.
Tristan grit his teeth against the pain, willing himself to remain calm. A sudden desire to lie flooded him. It would be so easy to tell the Tower what it wanted to hear, to make it believe they were just another crew coming to seek asylum. Yet that same instinct warned Tristan that the tower would know.
We come to seek the Flower.
Blinding light burst forth from the Tower and Tristan felt its rage in the crashing waves thudding against the hull of the ship.
Please! Our town - our ocean - depends on it.
Tristan held his breath, thinking at first that the calm surrounding them was only his imagination. But Simone’s touch on his arm invited him to open his eyes, and he sucked in his breath. Where their ship had been clouded in fog and raging rain before, the sea had suddenly turned as calm as a glass mirror. The Tower still shone its light, but it was somehow gentler than before and emitted a strange rhythm. Tristan found himself drawn towards it, a gentle aura that seemed to guide them past the dangerous surrounding the Fiery Isles shores. And slowly, ever so slowly, they drew nearer and nearer to that mystical place.
Total words: 749
Author’s notes:
Became painfully aware shortly into the scene how very little I know of “ship’s lingo”, and had to resist the urge to stop writing and research a few things instead. I resisted this urge because I know how deep this rabbit hole can get. Instead, I encouraged myself to push through anyway - incorrect lingo and all!
Painting debrief:
Sat down on the step of our front door, pebbles at my feet and sketchbook balanced on my lap, endeavouring to paint while my girls played in the driveway outside. Used my “on the go” / urban sketching set - Escoda Travel brush, little portable water container and my tin of Daniel Smith paints. Inspired by a recent purchase of a book “The story of discovery voyages” and a realisation of how these early adventures inspire so much of my desire to write and discover new journeys as well.
Process:
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Paper: Etchr sketchbook (needed permission to not have it “perfect”)
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Sketched basic outlines with indigo pencil. Ship inspired from ref, lighthouse emerged from imagination to create the scene. Idea of “Fiery Isles” from looking for an interesting colour on the horizon that wasn’t red as a sunset
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Candle wax to preserve some whites for lighthouse, splashing waves, and ship sales
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Colours used: Payne’s blue grey, indigo. Pyroll scarlet, quinacridone sienna, quinacridone gold, ultramarine turquoise, burnt umber
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Black micron 04 for last details (although it struggled with the wax on the paper
Music / playlist - Thomas Bergersen (full list). Especially “Don’t give up on your dreams) etc
Reference photo: https://unsplash.com/photos/gFZ1OK7mbxc
Ps - The characters featured in this story actually made their first appearance during last year’s World Watercolour Month (July 2021). You can find them in these posts (even though they weren’t mentioned by name at the time):