Long-Lost Healer | Let’s Ignite – Episode 1

This is the first of my new Let’s Ignite series, named to show that we’re igniting the story together!

In the April Wrap Up, I referenced writing a story using the product known as The Story Engine, which is a really nifty, writer’s block problem solver. Basically, you pull out a variety of cards (which I’ll go into detail about later), which then provides a writing prompt to follow.

Then, you write.

When I used it for the first time while on holiday at the beginning of April, I gave myself two rules:

1. Just write. Don’t stop and try and make it sound good and polished. Just write whatever comes to mind and let it flow.
2. Enjoy the process.

And, folks, did I?! Yeah, I did!

This inspired me to share this experience with you: to put together a prompt, write a story (however short or long), and then share my writing experience and whether I think I nailed the prompt (or not), including rating my own story and writing.

So, without further ado, let’s get into it and ignite the story!

How this is going to work…
So, for this first instalment, I’ll provide some detailed context. Then, in future, I’ll summarise.

In The Story Engine, there are five different types of cards, which are defined in the guidebook as below:

• Agents: Characters who make choices in the story
• Engines: motivations and relationships that drive the story
• Anchors: objects, locations or events of importance
• Conflicts: obstacles, consequences or dilemmas
• Aspects: adjectives that describe other cards.

You pull out cards to create storytelling prompts, which are meant to inspire the ‘player’ to ‘create something’. It could be a story, a piece of art, a role-playing game… whatever it inspires. And, there are only two rules as per the guidebook:

1. Don’t put the deck away until you create something. It can just be a word in a notebook or an idea in your head.
2. Ignore any card, rule or guideline that doesn’t help you create.

With all that being said, how’s this going to work here?

In the guidebook, there’s a bunch of different prompt-building guides, which determine how many cards you pull out and how you use them. Depending on the time I have and how I’m feeling, I’ll pull out a number of cards and build a story prompt.

In the video, you will see my real-time reactions to the prompt as it’s being built. In the written blog, you’ll see the end product: The prompt that the story is built from!

Following the story, I go into my experience in trying to write to that particular prompt. Did I like it? Did it inspire me? Was it a pain in the behind? All that jazz. In the video, this experience is shared in a ‘writing montage’.

After all that, I rate and review it.

I don’t expect there to be any incredible pieces of work here. However, based on how I feel the story relates to the prompt and how I feel about it, I’ll give it a rating out of five.

That’s it! I’m hoping that these prompts spark some creativity for you as well and maybe prompt you to create something, whether that’s a short story, a painting, a song, a character model… who knows!

The goal: igniting the story in whatever shape or form, and having some fun with it.

So, with all that being said and done, let’s see what the prompt is!

The prompt
A long-lost healer wants to destroy a letter but they must accept a loss they have been in denial about.

The story: A Long-Lost Healer
The breeze rustled the grass at the feet of an old lady who stood at the peak of a hill on the outskirts of a town.

She looked down from where she stood, watching as lights began to illuminate as the dusk crept darker. The suns orange rays dipped behind the horizon, and the sounds coming from the town echoed of a dichotomy of sounds.

One was jovial, of sounds that suggested a clanging of tankards in the town’s pub as people drunk the day’s aches and pain away. People cheered and drunk to a day’s hard work, with the slapping of hands on back showing a camaraderie that lingered across the town.

But beneath that jovial sound was another, darker sound. Of tears spilled and dirt turned as another is buried.

This was the sound she was here for. What she had feared to hear again, but the letter that sat scrunched in her pocket, feeling like it could burn a hole through her dress at any moment, had drawn her back here.

Another cry took to the air, pulled towards her by the wind, as another loss was felt. It shook something in her, the hole in her soul that remained broken.

Two weeks ago, the lady had sat peacefully within the humidity of the rain forest that skirted the edges of a forgotten land. She was long forgotten, which was for the best.

Being in that rainforest, around the weeping nature, it symbolised to her what was lost. The ongoing ache in her soul that emphasised the emptiness within her. The loss that was felt not just within her, but throughout a vast landscape and culture.

For the last 100 years, she had forced herself forget. The ache, the regret, that came with thinking about it. She couldn’t undo what had happened. Or, at least, she never had the energy to try.

That’s what made it worse.

The loss of energy. Of vitality.

Her hands had once held power that would connect the people to nature. It brought with it life, so nature could show its gratefulness to life, and for life to show it back.

It was a power that had been shared across many people and had existed for generations.

Until her hands touched it. Took from it.

Sitting in her alcove within the rainforest, the letter sat in her aching, weathered hands, thick with arthritis long since untreated. She had seen it drifting along a creek that skirted past her makeshift garden. It was in a dark glass bottle, one similar to those that would house ointments she used to spend hours creating and administering.

It was not the first time she had seen something not of the rainforest float down the creek. Most times, she would leave it to flow away from her. But, the specific bottle that housed this letter had called out to her. It spoke of a time long passed, and she had felt the long-lost ache within her soul peel open like a long-dried scab.

She had groaned when reaching for it, wincing at the icy cold water as the bottle made its way to her hand. Her heart had fluttered when she thought she had lost her grip, not realising how important it had been to her to hold this bottle, to own this piece of her past again.

She hadn’t seen the paper in it at first. Once it had been fished from the creek, she placed it straight into her handmade satchel and continued her day in the garden, tending the herbs she had once stirred into mixtures, tonics and balms.

As she had sat at the entrance of her alcove, the place she now called home, as the night drew closer, she pulled out the bottle from the satchel. A part of her had been fearful of it. She had grabbed it on impulse, drawn to it based on a memory of time long since passed. The ache in her reminding her this was not something she wanted to remember. A past she did not want to face.

She looked down at her closed hand, knowing that what lay inside it was just a simple bottle which held something so much more complex than just a bottle.

The thought came to mind to throw it. She would never have to acknowledge it. She could imagine the crashing of the glass on nearby rock, the memories crashing away with it.

And yet, she unfurled her fingers to lay her eyes on the dark bottle in her hand. And that’s when she saw it.

The note. The letter. Sealed away by a cork.

Her throat went dry. The silence of the rainforest amplified the roaring blood in her ears. Instant regret filled her. The outside world, the people who had long forgotten her, had somehow infiltrated her in her peace.

But was it ever really peace? The memories had always been on the fringes. The claws of regret, guilt and loss could only be pushed aside so hard. The whispers in her dreams. The ache she had become so used to feeling that it was no longer an ache, but just another piece of her.

With shaking fingers, she pried open the cork and slid out the paper. Within a breath, she could destroy it. Rip it to shreds. Burn it in the fire of the dry wood she tended to daily to ensure she could stay warm every day within the damp surroundings of the rainforest.

Every fibre of her being called her, yelled at her, to destroy it. But, one small voice, a forgotten one, deep within her whispered for her to read it. It was time to remember.

On the hill, she pulled out the scrunched-up paper from her pocket and read the letter again. With the sound of cries rolling up the hill to her, the words on the paper called out to her:

Please.

One word, yet it said so much. The old lady clenched her eyes as she felt the tears begin to form again. It had been too long. She had placed herself under the rug. Tried to hide from what she had done, and all that she had lost.

She thought of the consequences that the town below her, and across the land, were facing because of her choices. A single choice, really. One that tilted the balance and left the land without the power they needed to survive.

She kneeled down where she was and placed an open palm to the earth. The grass was cool and dry, so different to what she was used to, and closed her eyes. And from her lips, she breathed.

“Please.”

The same word, followed by what should’ve been said 100 years before.

“I’m sorry.”

Then, she delved into the long-since-dry well within her, digging through cobwebs and dust to find that one voice within her. The one that she had pushed down for so long and had let the ache keep away.

Pushing within herself, she clenched her eyes tightly, feeling the tears push past and drip onto the ground before her. She couldn’t find it, the voice, the spark. Panic built up in her as she worried if she had left it too late.

But then, within the crevices of her soul, she found it. A small glimmer, dimly shimmering amongst the darkness that had enveloped and soothed the ache and regret.

In her mind, she grabbed hold of that glimmer. Blew on it like a spark, an ember, to help it come back to life. The power that she felt in that small glimmer made her pause.

Could she do it? The glimmer seemed to be asking the question in her mind. Was she ready to do what she had needed to do so long ago? She felt the fear of what that meant, but in the distance of her trance, the cries from the town cut through, and she knew what she had to do.

With one final breath, she let go, letting that glimmer turn to a wildfire within her. The power overtook her, and she let it. Warmth surged through her.

From the town, a young woman glanced up towards the hill that overlooked them and gasped. A glow that burned brighter by the second pulsated at the top. In her arms, she felt the burn of her baby as it fought the fever that consumed it. She had done everything she could do.

She’d found an old journal from a long-lost healer, which detailed herbs that could stifle fever, ease a cough, and bring a child back to health. And yet, no matter what she did, nothing seemed to help her child.

Her mother had told her about the healers. They had held a connection between nature and those who lived amongst it. They could bring balance through nurturing the earth, and through doing that, nurse people back to health.

A hundred years ago, it had been lost. One healer had taken too much. They had pulled too much from the earth to serve a purpose greater than themselves. And through taking that power, that energy, all healer’s lost their ability to heal those through the connection with nature.

When they tried to heal, they would damage instead. Lives were lost to their hands. And so, they were either burned for treachery or fled to be lost forever.

Many had died since then, and this new wave of sickness brought upon the town it’s last life. Her child was on the precipice of life and death, and no matter what she did, nothing happened. She had to accept the fate that stared at her.

Suddenly, the burning glow on the hill disappeared, and a strong gust of wind blew through the town.

Upon the hill, the old lady fell forward and lay on the earth. She’d done it. A single, final tear fell from her face and into the earth as nature claimed its debt.

And, a warmth flooded the young lady separate to the child that burned in her arms. A voice softly whispered in her mind without words, but with feelings of calm and comfort. Without thinking, she placed her hand onto the brow of her child, and with a deep breath, felt the pull of the fever sinking into her palm.

The child cooled, and its cries quietened.
​
Healing was back. They would survive.

My writing experience
For the first ever Let’s Ignite, what a cool prompt! However, the problem with such a cool prompt is just how much pressure I put on myself with writing to such a prompt.

I mean, come on, a long-lost healer? Slay. Wants to destroy a letter? Yeah, get it girl. Accepting a loss they have been in denial about? I freaking dig it.

So, I popped on my headphones and turned on some fantasy lofi music to get me into the zone. I don’t know about you, but soft instrumental music helps me with my creative writing process a lot. Depending on the type of scene or character I’m writing, I try and line up a playlist that will work.

Not sure how that will work moving forward with these as I don’t necessarily have a playlist for every single scenario under the sun, but I’m sure I’ll find something. And, for this simple prompt, a fantasy lofi mix made sense to me.

My brain was in a flurry of ideas, so the idea of just ‘trying to write’ in some kind of flow began as a challenge. The pressure I put on myself meant that I was already unhappy when I started because the first few sentences I wrote I was like “Nope, that’s not good enough”.

But that’s not the point of this process! I wanted to feel the creativity and freedom. So, with the most amount of discipline I could muster, I forced myself forward and just let myself write.

And that’s when the fun began.

I initially had thought about writing about a younger character. It’s easier for me to write about characters similar to me if I’m trying to write something short, sweet and quickly. However, I decided to go for an older character.

This lined up better in my mind with the whole ‘long-lost’ prompt. And then, from that, the flow was on. The scene settled in my head, and the timeline began to form. And, I followed my two rules to the ‘T’: just write, and enjoy the process.

Now, there was one moment of pure frustration in this experience, which was the feeling of trying to remember the word ‘untreated’. To get around this, I usually just leave the bit where the word needs to go blank and I’ll go back to it when I can remember it, but this really frustrated me and I could not push past it.

I ended up jumping onto Google to basically ask it “what word am I trying to remember?”. The word I had used as a placeholder was ‘unmedicated’ and I hated it. It did not give me the fantasy vibes I was going for at all!

Anyway, through the power of typing words into Google, the word came to mind instantly, and I was super happy. What a time to be alive.

Then, the flow continued.

The whole time I was writing this story, there was a creeping monster in the back of my mind, which was the letter. The concept of this letter thrilled me and I was super excited to have it in the prompt.

But the problem with a letter is there needs to be words on the letter. And, since I was writing something where the letter was important, I wanted the letter to sound good.

What I came up with is really simple, but I think it does what it needs to do for the story.
​
Overall, I really enjoyed this process, and I’m super stoked that I pulled such an awesome prompt for this first instalment. It is so different from the first prompt I pulled back on my holiday in April, which came with its own difficulties. This, however, was so much fun.

Reviewing and rating my story
My rating: 4/5
I’m going to keep this short for this first instalment, because I think I did OK!

Ultimately, I think I nailed the prompt. I had a long-lost healer who wanted to destroy a letter. 

I probably could’ve written a bit more about the healer wanting to destroy the letter itself. I spent a bit of time writing about the bottle, and that prior to reading the letter they could’ve destroyed it. There was probably an opportunity here to focus on the feeling of wanting to destroy the letter after reading it.

However, since I kept the letter to only contain one word (a bit cheeky, really), it didn’t feel right to linger on it too long.

Regarding the final part of the prompt, if I had to be critical, I don’t know if I necessarily went deep into the ‘denial’ part of losing the power of healing. I think there are elements in what I wrote that feel like denial. However, if I took this story and expanded it a bit, and gave myself time to build out the lore around it, I think that denial piece could’ve been better displayed.

With all that being said, I quite like how this story turned out. The fact I just got myself into the flow and wrote—what came out turned out much better than I realised!

All in all, I’ll be kind to myself and give myself a rating of 4/5 on this story.

And, there you have it—our very first instalment of the Let’s Ignite series. What did you think? Did you create something from this prompt? Let me know in the comments!

I’m so excited for what future episodes will bring. I wonder what will be in store for us in episode 2?