Background came from this design.
Genre: YA sci-fi/fantasy
Word Count: 82,000 words
3-line Pitch:
Seventeen-year-old Aeneas is Number 151—one more than needed—and lives in the Ilium Underground, a ruinous place where the outcasts from the Colonies struggle to survive. When the band of pirates that raised him is slaughtered in cold blood, he finds himself lost, on the run, and worst of all, alone. Then he meets Casseopea, a girl from the Colonies, and he must decide whether to help her spark a rebellion and free the 150 members of her Colony, or run away for good.
First 250 Words:
“What d’you know of the Key, boy? Tell me, or you die.”
Aeneas looked up into the bulging brown and purple eyes of the man called Gore, one of the most powerful Titans of the Ilium Underground. His hair was drenched from the sewage leaking from above, and his wrists were cut by the metal chains that tied his arms behind his neck. The yellow scar that ran down the tip of Gore’s bulbous nose throbbed as the question hung in the air between them.
“The Key of Ilium!” Gore snorted when he didn’t respond. Saliva dripped from the sides of the man’s mouth and down his winding goatee. “Where is it?”
His mind clouded with confusion as he searched through his memories from the past 17 years. A shiver ran through his body. “Don’t… know anything about a key…”
They were in the giant storage locker of the Titan’s Underground nightclub. Scattered around the room were dirty tables, unused instruments, smoking pipes, and huge kegs of liquor. Wooden buckets were spread out across the stone floor to catch the water dripping from the ceiling. A heavy carpet of moss grew out from between the cracks.
Gore hesitated, pulling at the tiny hairs on the side of his smooth reptilian skull. He glanced down at Skylla, the tiny old man by his side. “You sure this is…”
“Master…” Skylla purred, “he’s the one, Master Gore! The thief, the outcast, the one ya been searchin’ for. The one with the markings on his back, Master. Scars. Markings carved in blood…”
“What d’you know of the Key, boy? Tell me, or you die.”
Aeneas looked up into the bulging brown and purple eyes of the man called Gore, one of the most powerful Titans of the Ilium Underground. His hair was drenched from the sewage leaking from above, and his wrists were cut by the metal chains that tied his arms behind his neck. The yellow scar that ran down the tip of Gore’s bulbous nose throbbed as the question hung in the air between them.
“The Key of Ilium!” Gore snorted when he didn’t respond. Saliva dripped from the sides of the man’s mouth and down his winding goatee. “Where is it?”
His mind clouded with confusion as he searched through his memories from the past 17 years. A shiver ran through his body. “Don’t… know anything about a key…”
They were in the giant storage locker of the Titan’s Underground nightclub. Scattered around the room were dirty tables, unused instruments, smoking pipes, and huge kegs of liquor. Wooden buckets were spread out across the stone floor to catch the water dripping from the ceiling. A heavy carpet of moss grew out from between the cracks.
Gore hesitated, pulling at the tiny hairs on the side of his smooth reptilian skull. He glanced down at Skylla, the tiny old man by his side. “You sure this is…”
“Master…” Skylla purred, “he’s the one, Master Gore! The thief, the outcast, the one ya been searchin’ for. The one with the markings on his back, Master. Scars. Markings carved in blood…”
TP!
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