The Fifteen Minute Novel 2022: Day 187

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 187: “Gift?” Anya asked.

“Gift?” Anya asked.

“When last we spoke I told you I would gift you with safety and then later we would strike a bargain.” The statue said.  “Are you not safe?”

“I suppose I am for now,” Anya said.

“For now?” I spoke with the Star, your Saint Polara.  She spoke with those she sent to safety in the house of my children.”

“Oh,” Anya said.  “Yes, the matron is helping to convince those that look for me that I have gone.”

“But you think it will not work?”

“I think that it is temporary,” Anya said.  “They might be convinced I have let, but if I emerge again they will know I am there and return.”

“Tell me,” the statue commanded.  The words thumped painfully into Anya’s chest. 

She took a deep breath and relayed the situation as she saw it. The statue stayed quiet as she spoke.

“A dilemma the Star has not resolved but merely postponed,” the statue said.  “This will require more thought.  However I would not have you think my gift so fleeting.  I will think, and consult with the others.  For now, it is best you go.”

Anya opened her mouth and blinked.  She woke up in her bed. Anya blinked.  The room around her was the familiar one she knew.  She sat up.  Everything was as she left it.  ‘A dream,’ she thought.

Anya lay back down.  She took a deep breath and felt some residual tightness in her chest where the pain of the Statue’s laughter still lingered.  ‘Was that a dream?’

Somehow it didn’t seem as easy to dismiss as a dream.  The first one she could have explained away as a dream.  ‘I suppose that I could have made this dream up based on the things going on,” she thought.  But the dream felt more real than before. 

‘But how do you know if a dream is a vision of a saint or whatever she is or just a dream?’

It was a puzzling thought and not one for which she had an answer.  Visons of saints or anything else had not been a part of the church’s teachings.  At least not the ones given to her.  Those who took vows might have had discussions of dreams that weren’t dreams but if it was then it was something they didn’t s discuss with the general public. 

Anya felt sleep still pulling at her and she settled back into her covers and closed her eyes.  This time if she dreamed, she didn’t remember it.   When Anya woke the next morning, she found herself hungrier than usual.

‘I’ll need to eat before lessons anyway,’ she told herself.  ‘If I have a larger meal before I go to the orb and then Deran then I won’t have to eat until after my lessons,’ she justified. 

Anya slipped out of bed, bathed and pulled on some of the newer clothes.  They smelled of lavender and mint and Anya guessed they had been stored with herb packets.  She set her soiled clothing to the side.

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