Not only do they care about your success, but also staying true to your vision. Kara Barbieri is a twenty-two year old author with a love for the weird and mystic. When I joined Wattpad, I gained a second family who were as passionate about reading and writing as I am. Ali Novak is a Wisconsin native and a graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison's creative writing program. She started writing her debut novel My Life with the Walter Boys when she was only fifteen.
Since then, her work has received more than million hits online and My Life with the Walter Boys has been optioned for television by Komixx Entertainment and Sony Pictures Television.
Being a Wattpad Star is the foundation for everything I do as a writer, from the behind the scenes wrangling to the big, game-changing projects. Having been active on Wattpad for several years, I knew it would be the perfect platform for a thriller with lots of cliffhangers for readers to discuss.
Zoe Aarsen is a graphic designer and copywriter. The Wattpad Stars Program gave me opportunities I never thought possible. It connected me to a world that I had only imagined. Far more shameless, that, considering I can't do a damn thing to preserve my soul's modesty from prying eyes. Then don't look at it. It's the only one I've got, and I'm kind've fond of it even if I don't have a giant rack like Moenbryda. It wasn't long before she was reaching for some of the liquid soap, and she grimaced at the oil and grime that that had gathered in the water.
Should draw another bath if only just to rinse after this. One day, perhaps, Eorzean civilization will come to realize what a shower is. Thanks, by the way.
For getting me here. It can't have been pleasant, wearing a chicken fora vessel. Double thanks for not screwing him over. Triple thanks for fighting the bandits for me, and hunting down food while we traveled. It's easy, right? Just put my lips together and blow.
I'm working under the theory that it takes about a day by chocobo to get through each zone, for example one day for western Thanalan, one day for central Thanalan, and one day for eastern Thanalan. I know it doesn't take that long in game, even using the in game days it's actually about a forty minute mounted run two hours, twentyish minutes at a walk of in game time, not irl time, to get from Ul'dah to the waking sands by taking the roads but I like to think the worlds a bit bigger than we see it.
Plus they were avoiding Lahabread. Rare was it that she dreamed. Rarer still that she realized it for what it was. When she found herself pacing the halls of Azys Lla, she had a brief moment of disorientation as she remembered both that she had once lived there and also had never actually seen the flying Primal prison in her life. It eased, however, until she settled at the railing and found Emet-Selch, dressed in his black robes, had joined her at the railing and had hummed thoughtfully as he looked out over the healed landscape of the Source once the shards had all been shuffled back together.
Your senses were sharper during this time, provided this is in fact a memory and not a hallucination.
Incomplete as you are, the journey severely taxed what little you have in the way of personal resources. She blinked as the pieces fell into place and cleared her throat, torn between staying where she was and pulling away. This mean you believe me, fully? I will say, however, that while the jury is still out 'tis a startlingly accurate representation of Azys lla. I climbed all over this place, apparently.
Most of them simply require two individuals to share the same headspace. Pale gold eyes snapped to her, and he straightened slightly. She laughed at that, and shook her head. It worked before, but I'm pretty sure you weren't tempered at the time.
I wonder though, how long've I been out for you to feel the urge to check up on me like this? He failed, and so I stepped in. Literally, as it so happens.
Most tend to be a little more upset when their body is stolen. Go around killing the Scions? You don't need me for that, and they figured it out pretty quickly with Lahabrea and Thancred. Yeah, I thought maybe I should consider them like I do the echoes I get off other people, in that they're not me at all, but when I really thought about it I could see myself making all the choices I did. Sure, I wish I hadn't made some of them, but with what I seemed to have known at the time?
Drink the broth, Priscilla. I didn't get stabbed in the gut, I got shot in the -leg-. Setting the empty bowl aside, she blinked at the irritated look from the Ascian and resigned expression across Urianger's face. I ate the soup. Determined to comply in the most ridiculous ways possible? He's only concerned for the wellbeing of your vessel. Everyone was assembled, from Y'shtola to Yda and for a moment she stopped and stared at the faces she had missed.
Papalymo, Moenbryda, and then settled her gaze back onto the leader of their merry little band. Miss is a bit too formal for me. Thancred and I grew up in the same place after all. What's Urianger told you so far? Proof enough, given thy intangible company that Minfillia hath confirmed the existence of. That thou also possess unusual knowledge, much of which hath been determined to be truth while yet more eludes us.
When thou mentioned the Battle of Carteneau did I take it upon myself to verify the full extent of thy claims, however none recall thy visage, mask or presence. Thine accounting hath been accurate beyond thy presence during these occurrences. So helpful. Okay, so I remember, vaguely, that the first time I joined the Scions there was an issue with people remembering the Warrior of Light anyways, so maybe that's a factor?
Louisoix, when he did his teleport-rebirth thing, it had an effect on that. Nobody remembered, not even me until my Echo started kicking my ass again. I explicitly ordered that effort to cease. I can only think maybe that distance was important somehow, in that they forgot some things but not others while I was at ground zero.
I'm not going to bemoan the past though. How I got here isn't as important as what I can do now that I am, right? No sense thinking too hard about it.
So all've you need reasons to trust me, right? Well, first off, even if you don't I can go and fight primals because their tempering won't work on me. Your Mother's blessing appears to be quite the fragile thing. Any primal of sufficient strength would be able to overwrite such a thing with their own. And that if you fail to rectify this, you will simply end up dying, like so many others.
I could ensure the primal tempering you would allow you the free will I possess. I grabbed what should have been the water crystal on my way out of Limsa Lominsa, but I double checked it this morning. It's just a lump of rock. I thought about it and I remember having to do things to make them work properly before. I sort've got them fixed to work for me? And there's other sets lying around. Specifically in the storage room. First, I'll have to figure out what's happening where and then try and play catch up to get to where I was You have the ability to change what to you is the future, and yet you sound as though you intend to follow the path you have already taken.
I'm really bad at math, so calculated risks aren't my thing. I've already stepped way off the original path that led to actual happiness and everything working out, and I'd like to get back on it as best I can so everything doesn't go pear shaped. After being proverbially grilled for most of the morning and afternoon with only a few minutes for lunch, when evening came and she was allowed to retreat to the rooms they had set aside for her Priscilla felt exhausted.
Almost as much as she had when she had stolen Urianger's room for what had turned out to be a lot more than just a single night. It was a close thing. Still, when she had finally changed into the clean clothes also provided for her, blessedly, regardless of how plain they were she stretched out on the bed and looked around.
The area was surprisingly Ascian free, and so she put her lips together and blew. It wasn't a very good whistle. More of a tongueless raspberry, really. But there was an ever so faint 'fweet' tone to it, and she grimaced and practiced a few more times before a particularly annoyed sigh interrupted her.
A hand was waved casually, dismissively at her as the Ascian flit down and seemed to settle on the foot of the bed. What surprised -me- is that Hydaelyn tempered you at all. Although, I do suppose you had little choice in the matter. I told Elidibus I would make the attempt, however. Think nothing of it. I met him, you know.
Sort of. Zodiark, that is. We went around to the moons after your tempering was removed, collected the souls from them so that they could go back into the lifestream and get reborn, clean and free. Trying to be a bit careful about what I say about those parts.
It's one thing for you to have made those choices then. It's another to be tempered and told you sort of worked counter to what you thought you should have. Although, 'tis somewhat disturbing to learn that Hydaelyn won. Or are you all 'talked' out for the day. You had the 'this is why this is bad you idiot' talk with me, and made sure I understood why it was a stupid thing to do.
On one hand, it meant he was trying. On the other it meant he was biting back any number of scathing words as he slowly took a deep breath, and then let it out.
I'm not the smartest , which is why you sat me down and took the time to point out that it was a type of -mutilation-. Like getting irritated with Thancred and deciding he doesn't need a kidney and one of his legs. It got sucked into white auracite. You told me to destroy it. Say anything about it after that, beyond to check to make sure it was gone. And-and later, I sundered that piece of you -out- of a mass of tempering, and gave that back to you.
I only did it in emergencies, when I didn't really have another option. Emet-Selch scoffed, pushing himself up and preparing to go. Literally, in thi-". I wanted you to live. If being apologetic wasn't going to work You wanted me to kill you, because then you wouldn't be so torn from fighting yourself all the time. You were -exhausted-. You didn't want to DO this any more.
And because of you, I couldn't do it any more -without- you. To say that the Warrior moped would be an understatement. She answered questions, certainly, over the course of three days but didn't seek anyone out. Her free time in the evenings was spent grooming Kweh, climbing buildings and trying to figure out something resembling a timeline as she worked to keep her mind off of Emet-Selch's absence.
She even tried to whistle, for all the good that it did. No response. Not even the flicker of a mote of darkness. She remembered that Kweh had only just recently become a fully fledged riding bird around the time she had fought Ifrit.
Two ish months, roughly a week ago, left her with a vague idea of when everything would hopefully click into place. She needed to get down to Summerford Farms. Possibly with specifically Y'shtola. Things are already so different. Do you think it really matters, or if it's already just too late?
After it was gulped down, he stuck his beak against one of her pockets and sniffed, giving her an expectant look. Let's do this again sometime. Given thy apparent fondness for him, it appears to be a case of cause and effect. Just a bit worn out, really. Urianger inclined his head, lips tugging into a small smile of his own.
Tell me what you think, then. However, thy knowledge of the history of Yda, let alone the heart of Moenbryda, must have come from somewhere. Ergo, thy truth about the Echo is all but assured. Another theory is as follows. Thou speaketh what is thy believed truth, but an abridged and heavily edited version. Of course, thy admittance of a fondness of drink could be at fault, and yet thy bearing is not that of a drunkard.
In fact, beyond the singular drink that thou failed to finish, none hath born witness to this drunken tendency. Priscilla grimaced. Half of why the trip had been so hard had been the lingering cravings for the oblivion that alcohol could give her. Denying those urges had been reflexive, not even a conscious thought on her part, the memory of a practiced distancing of an addiction.
Go on. That thy Echo, while factually and indisputably a part of you, works differently than thy words imply. Of the past, thou hath shown an excess of knowledge. Yet, 'tis spoken of as if from a greater distance than thou intends.
Something about thy words and bearing indicates that such is particularly old knowledge, to you. It implies an excess of -time-. In thine attempts to be vague about the thoughts of the plans of the Ascians, there are certain points at which thy words sound unshakably certain. They 'can' be saved, because thou hath seen such. Y'shtola hath been warned of how dangerous playing with ancient aetheric methods, yet only insofar as being careful with them.
Moenbryda is given looks of sadness, because thou hath seen her demise. Minfillia becomes lost to us sometime in the future, as noted by thy reaction to her presence. T'was not that of a good friend meeting another, but that of a fallen comrade come to life. The Warrior stared at him, before sighing and turning back to the bird.
Whatever I've seen, it's not a self-fulfilling one. Things are already a bit different than what I've seen. Not a whole lot of translation needed for this one. It's pretty direct. Can I ask you a favour, though? It's kind've important. I'm armed with Hydaelyn's Blessing, so I've got a better chance than most to take something like that down, and it'd save a lot've lives.
Staring down at the dead goobbue, Priscilla made a face. The crystal in her other hand remained inert, essentially dead as she tucked it away and then studied the rock. There had to be a clue around there somewhere. Though, maybe the clue was that just going out and killing something didn't make someone a 'hero'. Sitting down and putting her back to the runed rock, she closed her eyes and thought about it.
Last time, the first time, she had been Helping Summerford Farms. Which she had just spent the last day at, running errands and fixing problems. Then, word had reached her about this place being Had it been that folk were disappearing? Something bad , and because it paid well she went to look into it. She hadn't cared about living or dying at that time. Y'shtola had been present too.
Was it because she was expecting it as a reward? Some people believed that being a hero meant working for free, though she had always had more of a mercenary approach to it. Even if it was just something small and the promise of a favour later, so that couldn't have been it. She'd also never felt like a hero, and hated being called it. Maybe it was a matter of being known. A heroic reputation. Though, really, when she thought about Ardbert and the Warriors of Light from the First, it made things a little muddier.
Compared to them, she'd never been particularly heroic. She realized then, with a laugh, what exactly was different. She wasn't trying to -help-. She was madly scrambling for power. Producing the crystal, Priscilla turned it over in her hands and set it down beside her before pushing herself to her feet. Overthinking things as always. Stretching, she left the crystal behind and meandered towards the entrance of the cave before clicking her tongue to call Kweh over to her side.
Raking her fingers back through his feathers, the Warrior took a deep breath. See the end of the chapter for more notes. A spirited wanderer walked down the road of Three-malm Bend, heading north towards the Foremast.
Accompanied by a midnight blue chocobo, they caught sight of one of the many problems that constantly troubled the coast, namely the wespe's and their constant attacks on the guards there.
Careful not to press too far into the swarm, they both danced along the edges as they distracted them in ones and twos, withdrew and then returned once their foes were dead. They couldn't completely take care of the problem, but they certainly lightened the load and allowed the guard the chance to rotate out their members so that those who were badly stung with those who were a bit healthier.
From there, the masked figure continued north to Swiftperch. A massive Roseling, terrorizing people along the road, was dispatched and one of the smaller, lesser buds mysteriously made it's way behind the ear of one of the children, who giggled and said she had promised to keep it a -secret-.
Adults, parental or otherwise, still eventually got the truth out of her. A fancy stranger with a black mask and a giant black bird had given it to her! Gertrude, the gluttonous dodo who had bitten one of the stable boys at Swiftperch turned up next. Dead, missing a leg and a wing, but everyone was relieved that the menace was no longer a threat. Shortly after, the giant crab that had made a nuisance of itself at the Brewer's Beacon was found just outside of the gates.
Missing a few limbs, but still. One less hazard in the immediate area. Some of the guards could have sworn they had caught sight of a dark blue chocobo helping to drag it to the outpost. Goblins, after having raided a caravan just north of Aleport, limped to the port town and returned the stolen goods. The spectacle drew a crowd, before someone shouting asked what waas stopping them all from trading for what they needed.
Only the sharpest of eyes caught the black masked figure that had shouted it as they disappeared across a roof. Later, during one of the many raids on Swiftperch an unidentified ally popped up from the underbrush wearing a freshly dyed red mask.
Dagger in each hand, they made relatively short work of the invading monsters before an unnatural storm took the area. It settled unusually quickly as a dark blue chocobo bolted out with a rider clinging low and tight to it's back. Last seen heading north, the guards gossiped as they were wont to do that some absolute mad lad was out there in the world, doing the Twelve's work.
Civilians started to share the same rumours, but they started when a number of aurochs were driven from where they were crowding the road and preventing travel. A few were killed, and as the dust settled the masked figure had meandered over to one of the stunned farmers simply trying to get their wares through the area to remind them that the meat would spoil eventually, so they might as well avail themselves of it and spread the word that there was extra.
Any attempts to ask who they were was met with a laugh and a wave before they were up on the back of a bird who's midnight blue feathers gleamed like those of a raven as they ran off. Memeroon's and Jijiroon's Trading Posts. Camp Overlook. Camp Bronze Lake. Brayflox's Longstop. The docks of Raincatcher Gully. Costa del Sol. Rumours and legends of this individual and their mount spread. Not always wearing the same clothes, but the chocobo and the red mask were constants.
Staples of the story. It frustrated and amused Emet-Selch to no end. She knew what a red mask implied. When she had knocked out and stolen the crystal from the Ascian who had encountered her at Swiftperch, it had proven that she knew how to remove them from people. What she did with it, was almost insulting. Half-buried in the sand of Costa del Sol with a drink umbrella acting as it's shade in one of the commonly sunniest and brightest places in La Noscea.
One of Lahabrea's minions had only recently gone to dig it up. The Speaker himself had many things to say, but without the full picture every word that came out of his mouth made the Architect want to laugh.
Notably, that whoever this red masked figure was, they were playing with them. He must have failed to keep all of it out of his voice when he remarked that whomever it was, they certainly seemed to know what they were doing. Lifting a hand, the Architect idly tucked it against Lahabrea's chest and marveled at how, with so little gravity on the moon, he was rather easily able to push himself back and away from the other Paragon.
You, who crossed paths with Hydaelyn's latest -chosen-? They did not learn of the Ascians from -me-. I could have learned of their plans and guided them along another path, but Elidibus in his infinite wisdom deemed my 'involvement' with them to be ill advised. Would that you would not be tempted to begin working against our Lord, but you have never been able to swear that you will not aid her in some way.
How do you believe that things will progress? What else is a hero to do, but to seek new and more perilous pastures? Thanalan and Gridania are next, at which point most of our Speaker's work will have been uprooted. Lahabrea could throw all of his forces at her, but it would avail him little and less. Who could be threatened to stop her advances? The bird? No discernible family, no visible friends, who is able to remove a dark crystal from a possessed mortal and thus free any who are sent after her.
With Hydaelyns Blessing, it would be akin to a moth attempting to smother an open flame. I kill her. This dispute is one in which you consistently fail to see reason. No matter how many times you watch her die, you yet remain attached. You are Paragons, both of you.
Apply pressure to the beast tribes, and they will summon their primals. The Architect has built a foundation for you to utilize with the Heart of Sabik. Do not waste this opportunity, and recall that all we must do, we do for our Lord. The Speaker stared at Emet-Selch for another long moment, before vanishing into a rift. Silence reigned for perhaps a second, before the Architect folded his arms.
He is right to be skeptical of your ability to stay true to the path when involved with them. For our Lord to be part of the price when He is the reason is blasphemous. My goal has ever been to bring back our loved ones. Our Lord has ever been a means to an end, in that regard.
An act of desperation that then divided the very soul of our people-" Hades flinched slightly at the aether that prickled through the space between them, falling silent against his will at the quiet 'Enough. After the long, exhausting years, you must certainly be tired. You are dismissed. As Kweh reared back in surprise, Priscilla was almost thrown from the saddle. Almost, because instead of tumbling into a tangled heap of limbs she tucked and rolled to instead dive to the side.
Coming up with a dagger in hand, she blinked at the grey feathered bird that plopped down in front of the chocobo. Kweh nudged it a few times before the beak opened, and the shoebill was only barely spared the indignity of being pecked to see if he was edible or not by the Warrior hauling on the reins.
After the portal had closed, it fluffed it's feathers and then turned an agitated glare towards her. Colour me surprised, after the first week I thought you just weren't coming back. The Ardor. How do you complete it. Why do you complete it. What happens to Hydaelyn and Zodiark?
None of those are questions that I can just answer with a few words. It's almost lunch, let's get off the road and I'll see what I can do, yeah? It didn't take long for them to find a somewhat secluded spot a little ways up from the beach. Kweh ambled about, finding, killing and eating small crabs as Priscilla pulled out some of her travel rations and offered some out to the shoebill.
It was declined with a shake of the grey feathered head. The Ascians were a really big help in keeping people safe, using a variety of ways. Some watched for people who might be in danger and pulled them out of the way, others floated swaths of land with cities and villages on them to get them out of the way. We packed a whole bunch've folk into Azys lla and the Dravanian floating islands. With the Dragon's blessings, of course. They helped a -ton-. My only issue with it's ever been that a whole bunch of people get killed every time you guys caused a calamity.
Once we'd figured out a way to do it without mass death, it all worked out. So funny story, that. It was a sort've compromise between the two of us, because then they'd be reborn properly and with the Shards shuffled into the Source it was only going to take a few generations at best for it to happen and they'd regain their long lifespan and everything. We both realized, through a bit of trial and error, that when someone comes back they're not quite But also that if you look around, you can already -see- the souls of the people who've gone.
They're still mostly them. They just don't remember. Which, yes, sucks but it was one of the steps towards making us all no longer the broken half-men you see us all as. Priscilla looked down at her rations, and started packing them away.
Technically, yes. But you don't understand. We were working with what we had, and I worked as hard as I could to make sure I didn't cause any damage that couldn't be recovered from.
You helped with that. The mask you made me, it-". Considering your proclivity for cutting souls, it must have been a prudent choice to limit the ramifications of your actions. If you -must- do a thing, then at the least I could mitigate the chances that you would fail catastrophically.
Are you capable of doing this in your current state? Think so. I know how. But my Blessing, buffered with six crystals of light and the aether of a whole bunch of sin eaters was where the power came from. I don't have any of that. But I think I know why. I wasn't being heroic. I was doing it for the wrong reasons. I was doing it to help -me-. Which isn't very heroic. Sort of more villainish, really. Do you feel you might be able to then? It's possible? For someone who stormed off because I admitted to hacking your Tempering out've you, you seem awfully interested in this.
What happened? The shoebill was silent for a moment, studying her before clicking his beak. Are you In the Crystarium, it took months to be able to get you to even say a word bad about Him. Are you alright? Your very soul. As it has ever been, the cost of my compliance has been your freedom of choice and yet when Lahabrea posed the idea of killing you, the Vaunted Emissary did nothing. You, who only ever wished that neither Primal had ever even been a concept, who wanted nothing to do with either of them.
Leaning back, the Warrior opened her mouth to say something only for Emet-Selch to strut closer and press his wings against either side of her face, forehead settling against her own. I should have left with you. If a new scar or two is the price I pay to be able to begin to right the mistakes of the past, then so be it. Better a temporary pain than this torment of being forced to stand aside. But I must be certain.
If you are empowered, can you do this thing or -not-. I guess? Y'know I never actually really learned anything about that aspect other than the fact it was something you could just They had recently disembarked in Vesper Bay, and the Warrior rather deliberately passed by the Waking Sands. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave , published seven years after his escape, was written in part as a response to skeptics who refused to believe that so articulate an orator could ever have been a slave.
A powerfully compressed account of the cruelty and oppression of the Maryland plantation culture into which Douglass was born, it brought him to the forefront of the anti-slavery movement and drew thousands, black and white, to the cause.
With astonishing psychological penetration, he probes the painful ambiguities and subtly corrosive effects of black-white relations under slavery, and recounts his determined resistance to segregation in the North. The revised edition of , presented here, includes an account of his controversial diplomatic mission to Haiti. Under Robbins's tutelage, Henry becomes proprietor of his own plantation -- as well as of his own slaves.
When he dies, his widow, Caldonia, succumbs to profound grief, and things begin to fall apart at their plantation: slaves take to escaping under the cover of night, and families who had once found love beneath the weight of slavery begin to betray one another. Beyond the Townsend estate, the known world also unravels: low-paid white patrollers stand watch as slave "speculators" sell free black people into slavery, and rumors of slave rebellions set white families against slaves who have served them for years.
An ambitious, luminously written novel that ranges seamlessly between the past and future and back again to the present, The Known World weaves together the lives of freed and enslaved blacks, whites, and Indians -- and allows all of us a deeper understanding of the enduring multidimensional world created by the institution of slavery.
A spirited autobiography, a tale of spiritual quest and fulfillment, and a sophisticated treatise on religion, politics, and economics, The Interesting Narrative is a work of enduring literary and historical value. For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world.
With more than 1, titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators. But most know it as the site of a terrible tragedy -- where the vile orcs corrupted the hatchlings of the noble Dragonqueen, Alexstrasza, and used them as weapons of war.
Though a band of heroes, led by the enigmatic mage, Krasus, defeated the orcs and freed the captive dragons, the cursed mountain stands as another ravaged landmark within the Determined this time to confront this evil by himself, he is unaware of the quests that will draw others to Grim Batol and reveal the monstrous truth that could not only herald their deaths, but usher in a terrible new age of darkness and destruction.
Includes reading-group guide. A best-selling book. Popular Books. The Becoming by Nora Roberts. Fear No Evil by James Patterson. Flying Angels by Danielle Steel.
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