My dearest daughter,

If you've found this message then that means that the spell of cloaking I've put up on my journal has faded, and that is set only to occur should my life have come at last to an end. I hope you won't begrudge me my secretiveness, but it's only recently that I've begun to feel the need for it. You see, this notebook outlines much of the work I've been doing on the magicks of World-Seeing; the ability to peer into, and even touch, whole other worlds, lands that could never be reached by boat or horse but which are as real as this journal is in your hands. Valdaire became my apprentice purely to help me begin to sift through these other worlds, to search and see what we could learn from them. I know in that time that the two of you have become close, which is another reason for my secrecy. You see, dear daughter, Valdaire cannot be trusted.

Among these other worlds we've seen there was one which enamored him. By all rights it is a terrible place, the things I saw there shook me to my core, but the people there are people the same as you and I and the life they lead was fascinating if terrifying. Their existence is at the moment a spiral of tragedy wrought upon them by the greed of their leaders who utilize their own form of mass produced magic to gain that which is not theirs; it is very much an example of why I always believed our magic must be carefully guarded, that no student must go without a master. Clearly even that is not enough though, as Valdaire saw something different in this war torn world: he saw power in their magicks, and he saw an opportunity to use our own spells to gain power among the people there. It seems he's learned more from their leadership than he has from mine, and he has begun to develop a means to do more than just touch that far off place, but to go there, to bring their infernal magic back or perhaps to use his own to, in his greed, become some powerful warlord.

I did not want to, for some time, believe he would do what he must now have done; forgive me for keeping you in the dark while I held onto that mistaken hope. Partly, I believed it impossible to go to these other worlds, but I also knew in my heart that if it did become somehow possible I would have to oppose him. I would not allow him to do what he has set his blackened heart upon, and I knew that for this he would kill me. Or at least, there was a chance he would. So I begun to prepare this message for you, this journal. It details everything I know about World-Seeing, about my own attempts to travel there should you need to wrest Valdaire back to where he belongs. You're a smart girl, always were. If Valdaire can take the final steps to make this journey, I know you can as well.

Dear daughter, I wish I will never have to put this burden upon you, but if you're reading this now and I'm not there to smile and laugh with you about my paranoia then that means my worst fears have come to pass. Take heart knowing that I loved you, that I'm proud to say you will always be my star apprentice, and that I'm at peace with the knowledge my own greed led to what Valdaire has become. Never should a parent have to ask their own child to fix their mistake, but that is what I ask you now. Forgive me for that.

May my notes, my laboratory, and all the magical instruments of our family assist you. And know that no matter how cruel these other worlds may seem to be, the people within them are indeed still people; know that, and I know you'll never become as Valdaire has. Instead you'll continue as you always have: becoming something better than I, or mother could have ever hoped for.

Goodbye. May you join your mother and I in a happier place.

BOOM BOOM BOOM

The sound of artillery had almost deafened him, but Sergeant Koren felt the slight tick of his pocket watch as it clicked steadily by, round and round like it had been for the last four hours. More precisely, it had been three hours fourty-four minutes and twenty-two seconds since the bombardment began, and that meant it was almost time.

Five minutes, Koren thought to himself, and the shake of his pocket watch became more pronounced as he began to anticipate what might be his final few moments.

Unable to stare at the dimly lit watch face any longer, he shoved forward and stomped mud from his boots onto the already coated floorboards beneath; they squished underfoot rather than thumped. Then he walked several paces along the trench and shook the shoulders of his squadron, making sure the men were awake... or maybe conscious was more the right word. Dark, dirty faces looked up at him and nodded back; speaking was just about impossible over the sounds of their own artillery firing not so far away, but everyone knew why he would be making rounds and they began to double check bayonets or push shells into shotguns. Four minutes thirty-eight seconds had passed by the time Koren came back to where he started.

"No one lives forever boys! Up and over! At'em, lads!" Koren barked, though his voice sounded distant even to him and he clutched the whistle about his throat and blew into it. The shrill high pitch sound cut through the baritone roar of the artillery and additional ladders were thrown up into place as men bounded up and out of the trench into no-man's land.

Their trench was almost five miles long, but over the past four hours soldiers had been moving to their section to prepare for a hammer blow all in one spot. Other sergeant commanders blew their whistles and hundreds of men began their way up and over the barbed wire; the land just in front of the trench was raised slightly so that they could leap over the gap while anyone coming at them would have to climb through it. No doubt the other side had a similar arrangement. If gun dogs did their job that shouldn't be a problem, Koren thought to himself grimly and made the jump before looking back and waving his arm to direct his men. "Watch the flags!" he roared as they rushed past him. He waited until all the men he recognized were on the move, then began to jog after them.

Up ahead the artillery shells were still falling and outside of the trench the whistle of their descent could be heard clearly before it ended in a rolling thunder all across the enemy trench line. It was a two mile trek to the enemy trench... or well, a bit less; it was two miles at the farthest point, not that it made much of a difference for them. In total, now ten minutes thirty-eight seconds had passed and the artillery behind them halted all at once. Not bad, Koren thought absently before blowing his whistle again. "Fast as you can now!" he bellowed. His throat hurt, he realized.

For about another minute, the shells kept falling in a testament to the sheer number of guns that had been firing. They had jogged up until then to allow those final shells to fall, but as soon as that stopped the enemy was going to be pulling their heads out of their asses and making short work of them.

They'd gotten as close as they could before they ended up casualties of friendly fire, now they were committed and it was either take the enemy trench or get shot down before you could get back to your own. Neat how that works, isn't it? Koren thought with a half-grimace, half-smile

Fear gripped everyone, and in haste someone strayed too wide. Under cover of the guns, mine sweepers had crawled out into no man's land and spent the first three hours of the bombardment disabling land mines and marking a clean swath with tiny flags. Someone though had missed the barrier and they hadn't so much as a chance to scream when the ground underfoot clicked and something jumped out of the dirt a few paces ahead of them. It exploded, and lead balls then sprayed in every direction taking at least four other men with the careless teen. "Mind the goddamn flags!" Koren barked, increasingly out of breath as he sprinted, desperate to make the enemy trench before...

A machine gun opened fire, red hot tracers arcing across no man's land and killing at least another dozen men while the rest flung themselves forward into the craters of their own artillery. Mud splashed and no one needed to be told to begin snapping the pins of grenades. "Five, o'clock, one-hundred yards!" someone shouted, and Koren repeated it as he gripped the long stem of his grenade and flung it ahead of him. He waited two breaths, then shoved from the dirt puddle and blew his whistle. "Keep going!" he barked, and heard his grenade go off; they couldn't afford to wait to see if it worked.

Two more grenades exploded and twenty men fell before the machine gun went silent.

Then, the enemy artillery opened fire and the very earth underfoot seemed to shake as the shells landed behind them. You're close enough, you're close enough... Koren thought in a mantra-like chant as he eyed the shine of crushed barbed wire and ran as hard as he had in his life. Something cracked past his ear, dinged off his helmet and then his foot crunched some of the demolished barbed wire as he came up on the trench, leveled his shot gun and worked the pump as fast as he could. When it finally came up empty he yanked another grenade pin and threw it to his right toward a passage way into a deeper bunker and began to reload. Around him his men leapt into the trench, shotguns booming, bayonets flashing and he followed after them , still reloading. By then, eighteen minutes, forty seconds had passed.

Okay, okay, so... I know that wasn't exactly sexy. But I like me some plot too dammit! Also, for those of you that want a summary before you decide if it's worth reading that abomination up there: Basically, I want to do a story about mixing fantasy and reality. I'm looking for a partner to play a young witch from a medieval fantasy world who has to travel to a world which is undergoing something like World War I. A past lover, or just friend, wants to come to the "real" world and use his magic to either steal technology to take back home or to rule as a tyrant. She has to stop him and to do so she'll cross paths with a battered front line soldier just looking to survive another day... at least until he finds someone worth fighting for.

Where it goes from there is up for discussion! I'd like a nice long term story with some world hopping back and forth, and maybe a bit of magical sexy bits to break up the gritty action. And since I'm talking about that part I should list a few kinks, though I am flexible: I love me some cunnilingus, rimjobs, hot sweaty almost primal sex, face-sitting, intense wet kissing, being a switch, public/outdoor... and much more. Let's keep children and animals out of it and the blood and non-sexual fluids to the battle field though.

Anyway, I've got a general idea of the story I wanna do. But I also want to brainstorm a bit so bring me your ideas! I'm happy to hear from anyone even if you just want to chat about writing or what have you. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!