Sparkslingers: Cloud Council (Sampler here!)

 

Click here to order your copy today!

    

    Half the fun of writing, for me, is creating a world of my own. I have all the power! All the control over every detail. Muwahahaha... 

    But MAN is it messy! It's one thing to have a "great idea" while you're driving to work or sitting on the back of a Harley watching clouds roll by. But it's a whole other thing to put all those ideas to paper … especially in a way that actually makes sense to someone else's brain.

    When I came up with the idea to create the Cloud Council in Sparkslingers, I started out writing quick thoughts on a billion note cards. Then, when I couldn't keep those straight anymore, or keep Tally the "barn cat" (yah right) from scattering them all over, I made a couple graphics to help me. BEST trick ever! 

    Having a chart (with pictures) of Earth's actual atmospheric levels, kept me honest, as most research does. It helped me make sure I took my readers (at some point) from top to bottom too. I created a vertical world map, I guess you could say. 

    

    Drawing up a graphic helped me visualize the council sitting at a crescent-shaped table in the sky hall. Somehow, when I looked at it, pictures of each Cloud Council member came into view, complete with hair, clothes, attitudes, and oddities. And of course, I couldn't help imaging the drama, like any middle school lunchroom might have. As I wrote, I organically came to love some of the characters and hate others. That stirred things up in my mind and made for some wickedly fun writing! 

    So even though Sparkslingers has an abundance of magical creatures, the human-like characters (with even more human-like flaws) are what make this story relatable, no matter your genre preference.

Tally is absolutely zero help.

So now, I give you the Cloud City Cloud Council. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

Cirissa stands poised before the Cloud Council in the Sky Room. Though being the subject of their attention is always unnerving, she is confident in her purpose.

“Cloud Masters, I’ve seen it for myself. The Rim in Median is nearly impenetrable. Something has made it – unnatural. And I tell you, several in the Ice Crystal Guard believe it is connected to the sludge. It is our suspicion that Murkemer is experimenting with elements unauthorized to him.” She narrows her icy eyes. “We believe he is up to something.”

The Cloud Masters continue their casual murmuring with each other at the crescent-shaped glass table that spans the length of the Sky Room. The opaque floor beneath their feet shows the ocean gently rolling far below. Cloud columns lining the room roil within their pillar shapes.

Cirissa sighs with frustration. This topic has been avoided too long now. She takes a deep breath and says, “Cloud Masters, I must insist the matter of Murkemer’s suspicious activity be discussed.”

She looks to the lovely Cloud Master Tendril for help. Even though Master Tendril is the representative for the highest sector of the highest cloud plane, her kind manner is a comfort to Cirissa. Besides, when Tendril speaks – rare as it may be – Skybounds listen.

Tendril meets Cirissa’s eyes then rises from her seat at the farthest end of the table. Iridescent, gossamer strands flow from every inch of her wispy body. Her steps, light as air, carry her forward. The delicate strands drift in her wake, then float independently around her as she stops next to Cirissa. The other Cloud Masters hush.

“Gracious Cloud Masters, our esteemed Ice Crystal Guard agent here brings a disturbing point to our attention.”

Cirissa can’t be sure, but she swears she hears a “harrumph” escape in the guise of a cough from the center of the crescent table. Master Bumble of the Cumulus Sector is suspiciously rubbing his bulbous nose with his white-sausage fingers.

“Truly, Masters.” Tendril turns her head to address the full council from one end of the table to the other. Her rainbow strands of hair swish with the slightest movement. “Though few of my fellow Crystalines in the Cirrus Sector are willing to acknowledge it, I cannot deny what we have sensed brewing far below in the Stratus Sector.”

Cirissa breathes relief. Finally, someone will support her.

Master Bumble clears a gooey gurgle from his throat and says, “Blurble. Why should we care what Murkemer is up to?” He sweeps a pillowy arm toward an empty seat – a plush, gray gamer’s recliner complete with cup holder – at the end of the crescent table. “He never bothers to show up for meetings, gurrup.”

“I have to agree with Master Bumble,” says Cloud Master Shreddard of Cirissa’s own Cirrostratus Sector. In his smoothly arrogant way, he says, “That kid’s got issues, sure, but why make him our problem?” The sound of sharpening blades echoes through the Sky Room as he leans his stick-straight, crystal-encrusted form back in his ice-spiked chair. A smug grin curls the corners of his mouth as he crosses his arms.

Cloud Master Makryl of the Cirrocumulus Sector, sitting to Shreddard’s right, strikes her scepter on the clear floor. Her long, white ringlets bounce, but her round face remains serene. Very Bo Peep. Everyone seems to sit up a bit straighter. She closes her lavender eyes slowly. When she opens them, her icy lashes now adorn blazing red-orange eyes, as though the sun itself shone from inside them.

Shreddard watches her in awe. His eyes flicker with deep violet.

Master Makryl’s voice is lulling, almost too calm, when she says, “I believe the most efficient way to deal with our problem council member would be a swift volting. That will snap him out of whatever sad, little issues he’s got in that sad, little head of his.”

Murmurs of ascent grumble throughout the room. Even Cloud Master Loom, who typically tries to stay silent, nods her enormous head, and the wind generated from her flying saucer-sized sunhat blows down upon the council members. They all steady their goblets. Her floral Mumu flutters dangerously with miniature lightning strikes.

Bumble reaches up and pats her gargantuan knee. “There, there, my little Loomikins. It’s alright.”

Jagged hairlines of lightning flitters underneath Loom’s brim.

The wind has spun Tendril’s ethereal strands into a rat’s nest over every inch of her. She sighs, does a shiver shake, and all the strands loosen in a flourish from the tangled mass and go back to floating.

“My dear esteemed Cloud Master Makryl,” Tendril says in an attempt to calm the energy in the Sky Room. “I am sure your tactics work marvelously with your little charges. I am certain I am not the only one here who has a deep appreciation for your service with our Cloudlings and Shards. And I can’t even imagine how you work your miracles with all those darling puffs.” She chuckles lovingly and tsk tsks. “You are a wonder, dear Makryl.”

Cloud Master Makryl’s shoulders straighten even more, though Cirissa can hardly see how that’s possible. Her face beams with pride as she continues to look serenely upon the others. Shreddard eyes her lustily.

Tendril continues delicately, “I’m just wondering if there might be a slightly less, um, severe strategy for dealing with Cloud Master Murkemer. Especially considering he is rather young and somewhat new to our council. After all, losing his parents not so long ago has been difficult for him, no doubt. And absorbing all the Stratus Sector responsibilities, as we all know, is no simple matter.”

The council members remain reverent as they recall Murkemer’s predecessor.

Cloud Master Drizzo of the Stratocumulus Sector puts down her fingernail polish, carefully raises her goblet and says, “To Cloud Master Slurry.” All members raise their glasses. “May his journey through the Great Beyond be sweet and peaceful, just like he was.” Drizzo carefully sweeps her out-of-control frizzy hair from her face and takes the first sip.

They all take a sip. Cirissa notices a few tears and sniffles. But when Loom goes to blow her nose with the tissue she has stuffed in her stocking, everyone braces again.

Bumble frantically reaches over his head and pats her knee like he’s trying to put out a fire. “There, there little Loomy Poomy. Everything is alright. It’s okay!”

Loom thankfully sucks in her emotion with a shudder. It pulls up everyone’s hair then drops it back down as she lets out a quivering breath.

Cirissa can’t hold back. “But it’s NOT alright.” She has never spoken so sharply to the council. “It is NOT okay!”

Tendril raises an eyebrow with a look that shows she might be a little impressed. Then Cirissa notices her casting a glance at Cloud Master Virgus of the Altostratus Sector. Virgus returns Tendril’s look with a tiny smile as he lounges back in his zero-gravity lawn chair, all tan and summery, with Bermuda shorts and flip-flops. He runs a hand through his luscious, blonde locks, his biceps bulging under his Hang Loose t-shirt. Tendril’s cheeks flush. He nods at her, apparently also a little impressed with Cirissa’s more direct approach with the council.

Bolstered by Tendril’s look of approval, Cirissa continues. “Please, esteemed Cloud Masters, “I’m not saying anyone has to become his new best friend, or anything of the like. I’m simply wondering if one of you might be willing to check in on him.”

No one seems to be able to make eye contact with her. They’ve all become suspiciously interested in their goblet.

Then Cloud Master Castella of the Altocumulus Sector pipes up bright-eyed, like she just got a dynamite idea. Her hot pink wind suit crinkles as she slaps her hands on the table. “Could it be considered a super-secret mission?” The tawny old Cloud Master whips her gray hair into a bun on the top of her head, pops out of her wheely chair into ninja stance, flips her dentures with her tongue, then snaps them back in.

Shreddard says, “Gross.”

Castella winks at him.

Cirissa blinks. “Well, I guess I don’t think it has gotten to that point just yet. I was imagining just a friendly visit. See how he is doing. See if he is in need of a little guidance, say.”

Castella deflates, yanks her bun out and crumples back into her seat.

Shreddard rolls his eyes and says, “Why don’t we send Drizzo.” He leans forward to look at the ashen-faced, frizzy-haired Cloud Master down the table. “Weren’t you two like a thing?”

Drizzo nearly chokes on a swig of her drink. Then she dabs her mouth with the sleeve of her dingy housecoat. “No way. I mean, yes, we were, but that was a ridiculously long time ago.” She blows on her freshly painted gray nails.

Shreddard notes, “You just broke up like a month ago.”

“I know,” she says, unperturbed, and shrugs him off. This matter is closed.

The council members awkwardly eye each other for a painful amount of time. Cirissa is about to lose hope and start working out another way to help her dear, dear Wayfare and the sweet little town of Median.

Then a raspy voice echoes softly from the far end of the table next to Murkemer’s empty chair. “I’ll go to him.” Cloud Master Shroud’s quiet words barely escape from underneath the hood that covers most of his face.

The council members all lean in to hear better, but Shroud offers nothing else. A gloomy aura floats about him that’s always made most of them feel uncomfortable, to some degree, but Drizzo seems unaffected by it.

“Well,” Drizzo chirps, “there you have it.” She reaches down rather indelicately to pull out the cotton balls stuck between her toes now that their polish is dry.

Tendril and Cirissa look at each other then back to Shroud. It’s not common for the Nimbostratus Cloud Master to speak, much less volunteer for anything. This is indeed unexpected.

Tendril says, “Thank you, Cloud Master Shroud. I believe I speak for all of us in saying we appreciate your willingness to help.”

Shreddard says under his breath toward Makryl, “Taking one for the team.”

Master Makryl swishes some of her long ringlet locks aside and returns his comment with a knowing glance.

Cirissa isn’t sure on the details, but Shroud and Slurry had been like brothers. Perhaps this will provide the perfect opportunity for Shroud and Murkemer to get to know each other.

Shroud rises from his weathered, wooden armchair. He folds his hands and nods so low that his entire face disappears within his hood. Then he effaports into a fog that whips upward, and he’s gone.

Cirissa isn’t sure what to do or say. It had happened so suddenly.

Shreddard takes no time. “Well, that does it.” He begins to get up. The knife blade scratching of his innumerable dendrites signals the end of this meeting. “Shall we adjourn?”

A general murmur of agreement rumbles across the crescent table as the meeting breaks up. Cirissa stands forlorn with Tendril. Virgus strolls over.

Virgus, his hands in his Bermuda shorts pockets, says, “Well, we’ll see what happens.” He shrugs and knocks Tendril playfully with his shoulder. “Shroud’s an odd duck, but he knows what he’s doing. Right, Ten?”

Tendril smiles almost girlishly as her gossamer strands still wave from his bump. She composes herself enough to say with reassuring confidence, “Of course he is. Now, Cirissa, go to your Kindred Wayfare. I know you worry about him. What does he think of having his little brother as his new apprentice? The book has been planted and our little WISP commander, Breeslin, reports Deret is on the way to discovering it.”

Cirissa smiles, but it’s forced. She feels her face flush at the mention of Wayfare’s name. “He’s managing just fine. I think he’ll warm to the idea. He seems …” she looks inward for the right word, “… tired.” The look on her face betrays her attempt to minimize her feelings for him.

Virgus tilts his head and grins warmly. “He’s a good dude, that Wayfare. They don’t make ‘em like him anymore.”

“I know,” says Cirissa looking down through the clear floor. “I know.”

Click here to order your copy today!