The fifteen minute novel writing experiment is a attempt to write a complete (and very rough) draft of a novel by writing for fifteen minutes each day. I have taken a timed writing from one of the daily prompts done in 2021, cleaned it up a little and used it as my jumping off point into a story. Each day I will take the last line of the story written the day before and use it as my sentence starter and write for fifteen minutes, growing the story as the year progresses.
Day 186: Anya nodded and the statue remained quiet as Anya gathered her breath and let the pain fade.
Anya nodded and the statue remained quiet as Anya gathered her breath and let the pain fade. When she was able to breath normally, Anya slowly pushed back to her feet. The statue was studying her through it’s blank eyes.
“Feeling better?” the statue asked.
Anya nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. What was this saint called then? The one Brother Fertamosan forgot.”
“She was called Bendeasa,” Anya said.
“I was once Bendis to the people of the south,” the statue said. Her voice sounded far away as though she was recalling a long buried memory. “They called me to hunt their demons and keep them safe from the dark.”
Anya remembered the litany Brother Fertamosan made her memorize. “Hunt the darkness and prey upon the predators of the night.” She said.
The statue looked down at her. “Yes, the statue said. “They said something similar, long ago. This statue, this saint Bendeasa, she looked like me?”
“I don’t know,” Anya said. The statue was old, worn by time so there were not a lot of features. It was rescued from an older chur…temple I think. It had fire stains. I think it reminds me of you because it always felt…”
Anya felt heat creep to her cheeks. She never admitted to anyone that she felt the statue watching. Only once had she mentioned the statue to anyone else, her sisters. She mentioned it, hoping that they would mention the watching feeling from the statue. Like Brother Fertamosan they too seemed to forget she existed, recalling only the fifty saints of the church.
“Felt what?” the statue asked.
Anya took a deep breath. “It felt like the statue was watching me and you are a statue that talks.” She admitted and felt a rush of heat to her cheeks.
“And this village …”
“Tyrin,” Anya said.
“Tyrin,” the statue repeated. “I do not know of it. But perhaps the statue came from one of my temples after it’s destruction. You say it felt as though it was watching you?”
“Yes,” Anya said. Her embarrassment faded as the statue did not laugh at her.
“If it saw you then there may be something to that. I will look for it.”
Anya nodded. As with several other comments the statue made, Anya wasn’t entirely certain how to respond.
“But I cannot keep you long,” the statue said. “You need your rest. Before you go, I would ask how you like your gift.”
“Gift?” Anya asked.