Project Jagan: A novel idea

Good morning folks.

I hope that you all are well and enjoying the warm month of July. It will soon be August. So you may have seen the title of this post and wondered what exactly Project Jagan is.

Well, over the past month I have mentioned on my Twitter feed and blog posts that I have a  novel that I’m writing which is separate from the The Sibling world. Well I am here to tell you a bit about it.

It started off as an idea for a fantasy novel that popped up last year and one I wanted to use for the November CampNaNo. Well, I failed as I couldn’t understand crucial parts of the story or how they would work. Skip ahead eight months and I was sitting down enjoying a nice hot cup of tea, as I do, watching the football and then bam! Ideas flowed through my mind which explained the flaws in the original idea but also offered solutions and a beginning, middle and end. Then I couldn’t stop writing. It was a bit surreal as I had completely forgotten about the story.

I have no idea what the story will be called, my mind didn’t allow the part of the process to happen, but I do know it will be a standalone epic fantasy novel which I will be working on for the next few months or longer. I haven’t set myself a deadline for completion and not too sure what plans I have for releasing it. So for now it is called Project Jagan. 

I will keep you updated with the progress throughout the writing stage. I will leave you with an unedited excerpt as a taster.

Project Jagan

“It is getting late, m’lord. May it be wise we retreat to shelter and return when it is light?” 

Osborn was right, but Nolan ignored his guide. The Band of Jagan had not travelled to the end of the Dead Lands just to turn and retreat at the last moment. Seven men and five women had died on their journey as they battled the heat of the South East and the cold of the North West to reach the perished wastelands of Norvthe Ends. 

“It would be futile to turn away now, Osborn. We must hold our ground. The darkness will open to the light soon enough.”

“Yes m’lord.”

Nolan’s horse, Deses, shifted beneath him as she got restless. The travelling had been harsh on the group, especially the horses that travelled miles in the snow, desert land and higher reaches of the mountains. He patted the side of Deses head and soothed it with gentle cooing.

Nolan wrapped his hand around the rope to his leather bound water flask and pulled it up to his seated position. He uncorked it, took a generous mouth fall and hooked it back to the saddle. Nolan’s ebullience started to dwindle and felt his eye lids become heavier over time. He had not slept in over a day and a half and it started to catch up with him. Nolan knew he needed to occupy his mind or risk falling into a deep sleep.

The Dead Waters of Norvthe Ends slept below them, the waves of the water breathing at the rocky shore. Light from the glorious moon in the sky shimmered across the green waters revealing an empty sea. The Band of Jagan were at the farthest point north with the Dead Lands of Norvthe behind them and the Dead Waters in front. Other than the gentle cool breeze that rocked the dead flowers atop of the mountain and spread through the night sky, there was nothing but the sound of the men and women breathing and the discomfort grunts of the horses. There was no sign of any ship in the distance. 

To Nolan’s side, Osborn’s horse buckled and collapsed to the ground with exhaustion. Osborn fell to the side and onto the cliff of the mountain as his horse rested. The rest of the horses shuffled away, panting in distress but remaining upright. 

“M’lord, I protest that we rest and seek shelter,” Osborn begged as he jumped to his feet, brushing the debris from his uniform. 

Nolan sighed, too tired to argue with his guide but too stubborn to give up on the quest. He was adamant that it was the day that the Creatures of Jagan would return and reclaim what was rightfully theirs. If Nolan and the Band were not there to greet them then it would not bode well for the future. They would be seen as outlaws to the cause and face necessary punishment. The Band of Jagan needed to stand fast and sacrifice man and animal or pay for their sins later. The latter was not an option Nolan was willing to risk.

“Osborn, the Creatures of Jagan will be fast approaching. It has been written in stone and ink therefore it is unfeigned.”

Nolan commanded the horse forward a few steps, halting it close to the cliff and turning to face the seventeen men and twenty one women that had survived the arduous journey.

“Three hundred years to this date, Ruler Of Nvorthe and its three seas was banished from his settlement by the people of this land. Three hundred years later, the Ruler and Children of Jagan will return and reclaim Norvthe and destroy any cursed blood that intends to halt him in his quest. 
“My father and his father before him and ancestors before that learnt the words of the Jagan and preached it to the selected and trusted few. It was said they would return and we must be there to greet them. If we fail in our journey then we shall fail in life. For those who request shelter in this sacred land before the Ruler returns will be deemed punishable for their actions. Speak now if you wish to turn your back on your oath. Speak now if this act of allegiance to the Jagan people is too much for you. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Nolan brandished his sword from its sheath and directed it towards Osborn, the tip digging into his guide’s neck. “My dear guide, please tell me, do you wish to seek shelter?” Nolan asked with his lips curling into a smile.

Osborn took a gulp of air and shook his head. “Apologises m’lord, it seems that I have spoken out of context. I am happy to wait, as I am sure so are the others.”

“As I had thought,” Nolan said, retreating his weapon and sliding it back into his leather sheath.

“My lord, Nolan,” a young woman said claiming his attention. She had been ignoring the altercation and had kept her eyes on the sea the whole time. Her arm was outstretched and pointing towards the water. “Look.”

Nolan directed Deses to face north and looked out towards the see. His heart raced as he reached for his spyglass and pulled it to his eye. In the distance mist had appeared over the green water, concealing anything further. It was no natural occurring mist, as the clouds weaved and wafted into intricate patterns and circling a particular part of the Dead Waters of Norvthe End. 

A minute past of the mist tossing and turning until all went still. A few seconds went by of pure silence. Not even the breath of the horses could be heard. The whole land was mute. 

The sea roared to life, erupting in a furious display of water shooting high in the air as a black ship emerged from the depths of the ocean and rested on top of the water. It was a beautiful sight for Nolan to behold. He had been told the stories, read the books of the Ruler and instructed on the day in his lifetime that the Children of Jagan would return. Out of all the people in the land, he, Squire Nolan, devout follower of Jagan and the leader of Norvthe Jagan Community, would be the man to greet them.