juliana (is querying)

@callowromantic.bsky.social

31 Followers 51 Following

fantasy author querying: When Trees Dance writing: A Morning Hymnal julianadelsantewrites@gmail.com

An agent’s guide to A Morning Hymnal A fantasy mystery, now writing
Collage of images (white stag, stained glass, medieval manuscripts) to represent my main character, Cyprus
She tried to say Hiraeth's name but it came out garbled, through her mouthful of pork. Hiraeth turned his head aside so he could look behind him, "Finish what's in your mouth, your parents teach you no manners?" She chewed rapidly, afraid she might choke as she swallowed the dry hunk of meat. "I said your name." "Yes, lass I know, what do you want?" Better food. Your bread is stale. "I’m curious, where did the food come from?" "You're on a ship sailing through Soách, guided by a solitary dead man adhered to the mast, with land,” he forcefully gestured ahead then looked back to her, "on the horizon, and that's what you ask?" He exclaimed to the sky, shaking his head,"How the heart's desire of such a simple girl remains unknown to her, is far beyond me." As she sprinted to the sterncastle, he called after her, “And you’re meant to soak the hardtack, you’ll break a tooth!”
The ensuing days and weeks passed without event. Each morning, Cyprus would check their course with Hiraeth (briefly and without mirth), then she would force down the hard and salty rations, and later play the lute or work her muscles by climbing up the crow’s nest until she became hungry again, at which point she would return to her crumbling provisions and repeat. She had carried the stool to the sterncastle both to strum without interruption and to spite Hiraeth. Bitter spite brought no satisfaction as it once might have, instead she found its taste to be exactly as claimed. Her loneliness had never been quite so stark. Even when Yewan abandoned her for a year, Cyprus had made other friends. She’d relished her family's company. It wasn’t necessarily my fault he left me anyways. This time, however, by rumbling pride and rolling waves, she was alone, borne upon the sea.
They took a step back together to admire their new plot. With especially strong pairings, the two trees would often grow together and over time, become intertwined. Cyprus thought she could see their trees beginning to lean towards each other, but they also might have planted them askew. The village gathered behind their family, and they sang a song without lyrics, harmonizing with the living hum of the forest around them. As the sun set and Cyprus and Yewan led the procession to the bonfire for the commencement of the ceremony, the souls of their departed ancestors glowed amongst the leaves of their respective trees and lit their way, the path becoming brighter with more concentrated light the closer they got to the fire pit. Cyprus’ stomach turned with the thought of Cedyr’s tree alight in a sea of empty trees at the edge of the grove. Or worse yet, not being able to preserve his soul at all, for fear of corrupting the earth his body is buried in.