Ahoy, mine friends! Not gonna lie, I’m still in the midst of schedule changes I’d hoped to be done with long before now, which have made returning to my normal writing/revising habit almost impossible…but you know what? Who says I can’t try?

The plan to revise Vol.1 has underwent some unexpected setbacks this year, but I’ve restarted it, tinkering with a new section of the poem entitled ‘The Wrythenmere,’ and these new verses are going to replace Vol.1’s prologue. Cutting the Prologue was a tough call, considering I’d had it for so long and rewrote it upwards of ten times, and I still miss the sweet, bizarre contrast between its first sentence and that of Chapter One…but I believe it was the right call.

Other changes lately have had more to do with the world-building, such as the Skylians’ name for the larger world being ‘Moethena’ (a name I now use for their entire planet), and a new name for one of their moons.

You see, Moethena has two moons—a larger, rusty-orange one called ‘Rura,’ and a white one even smaller than our own, up till now called ‘the Eye of Moth.’ Obviously, changing the name of the whole world to reflect the name of its creator makes this sound repetitive—and anyways, I decided having both moons be mythologically referred to as ‘the Eyes of Moth’ would be a more interesting concept, so now the smaller moon is called ‘Leemos.’

While ‘Rura’ is derived from Moth’s mythical servant and beastie, Ruran, (which means ‘justice’), ‘Leemos’ comes from a Skylian word that means ‘mercy.’

The Skylians do not view the concepts of mercy and justice as diametrically opposed to each other, but they do see the presence of one or the other more prominently at times in descriptions of Moth’s past deeds. And while the current generations of Skylians are a bit iconoclast, the imagery of Moth looking down upon her children lovingly with different-colored eyes seemed too dramatic of an idea not to draw. Hence, the concept art heading this post.

While I’m not ready to recommit to a deadline for finishing the whole revision at this time, I’m going to try re-writing the first six chapters by September.

I wish you a good summer, folks, and leave you with these new verses as they are at this moment!

Mighty were the Moethnar, yet their bones did not hold fast,
When hurled from heights so great as theirs upon the frozen pass.
Wicked though they chose to be, to cheat a death they brought,
Broken lay their hardened hearts, with whom they cast their lot.

Moth plucked up the bitter shards, softened with her tears,
And offered them return to health, but many kept their fears.
A second chance these fallen faced: a hearth and home below,
In exchange for pain and loss of strength they knew too well.

“Spare us ill!” some cried aloft, while the Others, passing through
the Flames of Ruran culled their pride, and forged themselves anew.
Her eldest had forgotten what no Faceless ever shall,
That their Mother who paid recompense would not forsake them now.

From Part 5 of ‘The Wrythenmere’