RNevius

Scene 4: Town visit introducing the protagonist’s future allies, foreshadowing the antagonist. Brushing a strand of raven colored hair from her face, Mabel handed over the last ice cream cone to Ethan with a wink. Ever since he had turned eighteen, the effusive employee at Moomaid’s ice cream shop had become overly friendly. It’s not that Mabel wasn’t nice, just—creepy. Ethan pushed his little brother, Jaego, out the door, jingling the bell as they stepped onto the curb facing the sea. He had bribed Jaego with ice cream even though Mum asked them to come home before lunch. It was the only way to get him to shut up. Sometimes the age gap between eight and eighteen was frustratingly obvious, especially when Jaego brought out his inventions in public. Once Ethan saved enough for a BMX, Mom wouldn’t insist on Jaego coming along with him everywhere. “You’re not listening to me! I’ve been trying to get your attention five different ways, and none of them is workin'!” Jaego kicked Ethan hard in the shin. Ethan steadied himself on the uneven cobblestones, dropping his Berry-Go-Round cone in the long grass of the town green. His jaw clenched, glaring with green-blue eyes at his waif-like brother. “Mate! What was that for?” “Maybe if you weren’t so head in the clouds, you’d see my remote-controlled car has stalled.” Jaego’s eyebrows shot to his hairline as he pointed to the Special Air Service figurine straddling his 1960s-era roadster. Ethan’s six-foot frame towered over his brother as he lifted him off his feet by the shoulders, meeting his eyes, “If you have somethin’ to tell me, you pull on my arm, not kick me in the shin!” He set Jaego down with a huff, his eyes landing on a Mongoose BMX sitting in a long line of plush beach cruisers. It was nearly obscured by a gaggle of teenage girls. “Were you lookin’ at those girls?” asked Jaego. Ethan rolled his eyes and grinned at his brother, “ I was looking at the bike.” “You want a cruiser bike?” Jaego asked, his head tilted, confused. “Don’t be thick—” “Well, either way, we can’t get home if you're busy gogglin’. I need you to heft this up. One of the wheels is jammed,” said Jaego. Ethan squatted next to him. His brother retrofitted every scrap of leftover anything, making it into something. Most of his creations were very clever. All of them were extremely obnoxious. “What did you put in this, Jaego? Rocks?” “In fact,” Jaego said, placing both hands on his hips like a superhero, “I used iron shavings—” Oh, here we go. “—to act as a form of ballast. It can now make quick turns around corners without falling. In fact—” “Time to go.” He slammed the car down. “Mum said to be home for lunch.” Jaego shrugged, his short legs following Ethan’s long stride as they crossed the street towards the older part of town, where roads were built for carriages and carts, not lorry trucks and cars. They hugged the wall as a delivery truck whizzed by. The morning had been overcast, but now everyone with sunscreen noses and Speedos was enjoying the balmy sunshine that dried the streets. They walked inside a dark shade, following one narrow strip of golden sunlight that snaked its way through the middle of the corridor. The sound of the sea grew quieter in the shadow of a long row of towering three-story walk-ups. Jaego steered his remote control car in zig zags, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls they passed. Jaego’s thumb pushed hard on the controller, slamming the car to a stop on the edge of a large iron grate set in the curb. The brothers stood gazing into the dark pit with its constant drip into nothingness. Jaego shoved the end of his cone in his mouth before kneeling by the grate and pressing his face against it. “Get up, Jaego! You look like an idiot,” said Ethan. Jaego lifted his face, streaked with grease. “‘Do not! 'Sides, renters don’t care. They don’t know about the tunnel.” “That’s the storm drain, not the actual smuggler's tunnel. And it’s not renters anymore. Nan’s myrgh-wynn lives here now, remember?” Jaego scrunched his nose, “Nan? Who’s Nan?” Ethan shook his head. “You don’t ever listen.” “Huh?” Jaego revealed another dark black grease smudge across the other cheek. A mischievous grin bent Ethan’s full lips as he feigned surprise, “Do ya hear that, Jaego?” he asked. Jaego perked up, “Hear what?” “That bangin’ sound,” said Ethan, “down below.” He pressed his ear against the grate while Ethan leaned in and whispered, “Beware, young Jaego, the souls o’ dead smugglers. They’ll carry you off to Olethus!” Jaego turned to punch his brother, his cheeks puffed out, just missing. Ethan laughed, fighting him off, “Who’ll turn you to stone for stickin’ your greasy nose where it don’t belong.” “S’not funny,” Jaego muttered angrily, “You know what Mum said. I’ll tell her you’ve been messin w’ me again.” The narrow strip of light suddenly disappeared as a low cloud covered the sun, plunging the street into deep shadow, all the darker for the rare quiet that accompanied it. The push and pull of crashing waves, Newlyn’s white noise, vanished. CLANG “What was that?” Ethan involuntarily jerked his back into the lush growth of vines snaking up a back garden wall. THWANG Jaego’s eyes darted around. “Knock it off. I’m not fallin’ for it.” He latched onto Ethan's holed-up tee-shirt and whispered, “Now Olethus is comin’ to get you.” Digging his finger into his brother's chest, Ethan swatted it away. The two brothers peeked around the corner of the house. Nothing, just an empty cobbled road. “Do you think it was them?” Jaego’s chest puffed out in a show of bravery. “Ya know, Dark Venti?” He blew hot air into his hands as though suddenly cold. The color vanished from Ethan's tan cheeks. “Maybe—don’t know.” They wandered further up the corridor, listening to the drip from the grate behind. “Serves you right if they are overhead right now. A bunch of invisible baddies waiting to pound your face in,” whispered Jaego. Just then, an arm swung out from a second-story window, closing hard above them with a loud CLANK. Jaego screamed and slid backwards into Ethan, who lost his footing and pulled Jaego down into a heap. The boys brushed themselves off and stood staring. A girl’s head popped out one side of a window. Her wrist seemed caught in the clasp, in a tangle of white string—focused, and entirely oblivious to their presence just below. They watched her pick at the knot, the window easing in and out of the street. Dark eyes and wild hair. “You alright?” he called. The girl’s eyes widened before dropping below the window line. Her arm hung above it, still attached to the latch. They waited for her to reappear, but nothing happened. “Do ya think she’s dead then?” Jaego asked. “No dummy. She’s not dead,” He lowered his voice, “I think —” he whispered, “I think she’s hiding.” “Girls are weird,” Jaego said in a loud whisper. “Never mind. Get your car.” Jaego disappeared around the corner and returned with his car. The special forces soldier affixed to its hood shouted “Let’s go men!” over and over as Jaego pressed the button on his remote. Ethan eyed the arm in the window, then shouted much louder than necessary, “WELL, JAEGO, WE BETTER GO. MUM’S EXPECTING US.” The arm in the window flinched, and the top of a messy-haired head peeked out as the boys approached the end of the street. “Let’s go men!” on repeat. Ethan glanced back, scanning the row of windows —hoping to catch just one more glimpse of the legendary Dylan Jensen.

Theory of Wind A Contemporary YA Fantasy by Rebecca Nevius Assignment 1: An ordinary girl with no belief in the supernatural, Dylan discovers her mother’s spirit is trapped inside the Nike of Samothrace. Soon after, she’s drawn into a hidden world of dangerous Immortals and must master inherited powers to recover the statue’s missing wings before her uncle destroys them and her chance to bring her mother back to life. Assignment 2: At first, the deepest threat to Dylan appears to be the supernatural world she encounters in her nightmares, yet at the heart of her struggle is Nan, her adoptive grandmother. Out of a desire to protect, Nan kept Dylan in the dark about her mother and her true lineage as the daughter of Alexander the Great and the Nike of Samothrace in the Louvre. Nan’s secrecy leaves Dylan unprepared for the dangers that await, making her a moral antagonist. Her protective intentions create the very obstacles Dylan must overcome. Mabel, a self-serving Immortal, intensifies Dylan’s challenges. Pretending to be twenty-five, she works at Moomaids ice cream shop near the town green and is sent to spy on Dylan. Her break in awakens Dylan’s latent powers—abilities to hear voices in the wind, glimpse ghostly faces, and sense the missing pieces of her mother’s wings—forcing Dylan into the dangerous supernatural world before she is ready. Thankfully the Morgans are there to welcome Dylan and give her the one thing that makes sense of it all: Nan’s journal. Duncan, the charming archaeologist who uncovers the Nike’s missing wing with Jim Morgan, appears to be an ally. Suspicion soon arises after Duncan tries to steal the wing they uncovered. Dylan and the Morgans realize he is Olethus, son of West Wind and the Nike’s brother. He was responsible for tearing off her wing and turning Dylan’s family to stone 2,000 years before.. His motives in stealing the wing are misunderstood, making him a deceptive antagonist whose actions complicate Dylan’s journey and misdirect her away from the true villain and architect of the Nike’s fall: her father, West Wind. He orchestrated her mother’s betrayal, pinning the blame on his son, and has been manipulating events in order to destroy the truth of what really happened. Together, these forces shape Dylan’s path and define the challenges she must overcome to save her mother. Assignment 3: Theory of Wind: Named for Nan’s journal, which records her theories about the wind and the source of her own supernatural abilities. The Weight of Wings: Dylan’s grief over the deaths of her Nan and brother, combin with the heavy responsibility of her own hidden powers. Also, her mother’s form weighs two tons, and the task of stealing her from the Louvre feels impossible. The Winged Silence: Her mother has stood as a winged figure in stone for two millennia. Dylan’s brother became an invisible Immortal at his death—present but silent—and she struggles to hear him. Assignment 4: My novel evokes the found-family dynamics of Ransom Riggs’ Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, the legacy-driven suspense of Jennifer Lynn Barnes’ The Inheritance Games, and the historical grounding of The Art Spy by Michelle Young. Assignment 5: When teenage Dylan Jensen discovers her mother’s spirit is trapped inside the Nike of Samothrace, she must clumsily navigates the strange powers she’s inherited while outwitting her immortal uncle to retrieve the statue’s missing wings—the only way to bring her mother back from two millennia of silence. Assignment 6: Internal Conflict (Emotional/Existential) Dylan struggles with grief over the loss of her mother and brother, resentment toward Nan for hiding the truth, and feelings of inadequacy as she navigates powers she barely understands. Also, the introduction of an unseen realm she previously had never considered has her on edge and questioning the nature of her own identity. Her emotions are further complicated by a resentment toward the Morgans for being spared the secrecy, and as the Morgans’ expectation that she steal her mother’s statue from the Louvre becomes apparent, her anxiety and self-doubt intensifies, alienating her from her newfound family. Trigger: After dinner at the Morgans’ house, Dylan inadvertently uses her ability and vanishes to an Aegean island where inhuman voices chant her demise. Reaction: Terrified and disoriented, she rages into the night air, wondering if this too was one of Nan’s secrets. Upon hearing the Morgans’ explanation, she resents their effortless mastery of their powers as her own abilities continue to misfire. Her heightened sense of powerlessness and frustration causes her to oscillate between anger and determination, loneliness and a sense of belonging. Secondary Conflict (Environmental/Social/Moral) Dylan has undeniable attraction to Ethan, the Morgan’s eldest son, and despite her best efforts she continues to come off as idiodic. Ethan’s attentions toward her are constantly distracted by his younger brother Jaego, a ball of energy, who rarely thinks about danger and constantly asks dumb questions. Trigger: Dylan, Ethan, and Jaego are led down a hall by a supernatural force and discover a pair of brand-new crates amid a pile of musty antiquities. Dylan must manage not only her expectations about the contents of the crates but also the diverging personalities of the brothers and their constant bickering. When Dr. Morgan’s partner, Duncan, arrives with a sketchy individual who turns a guard to stone, they are forced to hide in the cramped confines of a nearby closet. Reaction: Dylan feels overwhelmed by the responsibility of protecting the crates’ contents while dealing with the bickering brothers. She struggles to keep her own emotions in check in order to make the split-second decision that could save a wing fragment. The situation forces her to balance her newfound authority with the wily emotions of the two brothers, all while facing the constant possibility of being discovered. Questions flood her mind: Should they steal it? Is it really stealing if it’s not a thing, but a person? The whole scenario makes her realize just how fragile her situation is—how something as small as an unchecked emotion or a stumble in the closet could ruin everything. Assignment 7: The story opens in the farthest reaches of England, in Newlyn, a salt-scoured fishing village clinging to Cornwall’s southernmost tip. This is where the rail line ends and the sea begins. Dylan’s inherited cottage, with its old fireplace and peeling wallpaper, breathes with memory. Its windows have been witness to the razing of pirates in centuries past and the plentiful hauls of fortunate wreckers. Even in the 1990s, Newlyn feels ancient, suspended between eras, a perfect liminal space for a girl who doesn’t yet know where she belongs. From these fog-wrapped coasts, Dylan’s world expands through mysterious portals that open and close without warning. First, she is dumped unceremoniously onto Samothrace, an Aegean island where an ancient temple pulses with the energy of an invisible power, then on St. Michael’s Mount in Marazion, a tidal castle tethered to the mainland only at low tide. The Louvre’s echoing halls hold her mother’s petrified form, and Cairo’s Egyptian Museum hums with the restless energy of their dead. The unopened tomb in KV5 hides not only the last piece of her mother’s wing, but an unseen danger as dark as its myriad of yet undiscovered rooms. Bodies of water and the sea itself become living characters, a mirror to her true identity and a test of her endurance. Across continents, the settings remain bound by one atmosphere: places where legendary figures and invisible power press close to the skin of the present and where history refuses to stay buried.