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Posts tagged ‘magic’

Relic’s Keeper – Concept

Azryael turned to face the swirling mist of darkness. It too, seemed to respond by rising to meet his height, twisting in upon itself in a whirl of shapeless matter and sparks as if cutting into the slab floor. Toward the top, a notch of strange spherical impression seemed to push within the darkness whenever it moved. It was almost as if…was that a face?

“We’re not so different, you and I…” A hoarse whisper could be heard from the moving void. It expanded a moment before compressing to complete a basic human form. What stepped from that void was no more surprising than his first meeting with Christauni as a Shadow.

“Rivan.” Azryael had not said that name since the days of his crippled childhood. Rivan had been born blind, and still was by the looks of his opal gaze. “So I see the Eternal Night has become your way of seeing, just as the Light has become my strength.”

“Isn’t it funny…how we were chosen? We were the ones that no one wanted – the trash kicked aside in the streets. We had only each other then. Now, we rely on something much better.”  

“Tell me how this is better?” Azryael pointed to the men still struggling against their chains to turn the giant wheel. It was painful to hear the last of fragmented crystals crushed to dust. That was the last of the Light shards. All that remained, he carried within himself.

“They deserve their fate!” Rivan’s voice boomed, throwing off patches of darkness as he moved around him. “They misused their own source of hope. Now it’s all dead.”

“The Eternal Night is not meant to be used this way either, Rivan.” Azryael tried to remain calm. “You’ve been here long enough to know that. Destroying the Light will jeopardize life itself. We may not be in existence if you extinguish it all!”

“Perhaps it will be a new dawn for us then. Is it all that bad? As it is, I didn’t expect the Light to chose anything other than a dead object in hopes to evade me. Seems it finally got smart.” His form broke in various places to swirl and reform. It was hard to keep an eye on his movements, as the Darkness had the speed of a cobra. It would not be long before an attempted strike. Well, not smart enough. You still led it right to me. For that, I thank you.”

 

 

 

 

The Youngest Child

When I eventually reach book 7, Wisdom will have three children. His oldest will be Keith, named after himself because he too will be albino. The middle child, Gaily, will be human, and the third child will be mysterious and observant – a half-breed of human and Healer.

It is the third child that I will be most interested in writing: Koréken. The name and looks is in honor of Corrigan, the Black Wing that assists his father in previous adventures. But Koré is more than just a dark-haired child with pale eyes. He has strange abilities that neither Healer or humans use. What’s even stranger is his ability to manipulate the energy within someone else, but cannot use it directly within himself. He acts as a weather forecaster. Except instead of predicting weather, he can foresee the emotions or intentions behind someone approaching. Therefore, he’s able to give fair warning to flee or stay.

Koré is conservative in speech. He prefers quiet spots to enjoy reading the collections of books his father keeps in their home library.  He develops a method of touch that involves pressure points. Pressure points on the body can do a number of things, including but not limited to temporarily paralysis, muscle control,  or easing pain.

Koré is confused with another developing problem. Dubbed as Dark Ones, these are regular people who suddenly grow pale, with white eyes and black hair. Surrounding energy flocks to them and releases in such a way that it causes a mass of destruction before they’re able to learn control. But Koré  is able to help these people. By using his ability to manipulate energy, he’s able to give them enough time to learn how to deal with what’s happening to them. However, the threat of more becoming Dark Ones and why it’s happening is alarming.

It’s no surprise that many people see Wisdom’s son as a Dark One, leading him to defend his family to the point where he himself is being blamed for the outcome.

Undead?

I could see a potential undead situation in the type of fantasy I write. Let’s just say that a spell goes awry and causes a mass of undead to rise, including Wisdom, long after his time had passed.

In Wisdom’s case, Nature keeps his spirit and memories intact so that when his body rises they are joined back together. I can definitely see a scene where, without those, his body would just react like a normal zombie – floundering about, ready to rip someone’s arm off until the gets his wits back.

Just a passing thought…

 

Vamperic Race?

Is there a vampire-like race in No’va? No. But I have had ideas about a race that once were feared by the living due to their blood-thirsty nature. It’s not until later when a new leader takes over that he realizes they’re wasting precious food by ripping into their victims and letting them die when they only need a few drops every couple of generations.

In steps the new, sophisticated being (unnamed) who dwells in decked-up caverns and ensure their selected “honored” guests that they will once again walk out to see daylight. The guests are dined and wined and pleasured beyond their wildest dreams until they are at ease with what is about to happen to them. The reason is fear. Fear petrifies the blood flow. Changes the taste. They want that fresh, succulent dip of ruby red, like fine wine to the tongue. Once they have it, the guest is free to leave.

I don’t plan to develop this any further. Just a passing thought.

Chapter 4 Teaser

The main chamber was littered with coughing individuals, all huddled together under blankets or whatever they had managed to bring with them. It was easy to pick out Tia, her crested black hair a style no one else had. She cradled the wheezing child in her arms, his shaking shoulders in beat with his discomfort.

“Tia!” Jenario was by her side in an instant. “Nickademis has the medicine!”

She was nearly in tears at the sight of him, but said nothing at the answering wheeze of their young son.

“Give him here.” Jenario took Abraham in his arms and cradled in tightly to his chest. The boy let out a series of coughs that shook his father’s shoulders. He stared into Tia’s pleading gaze. “Nick! Hurry!”

“Jen?” Thomas Gracie and Shafari entered the chamber to assess the number of those ill.

“I might be able to raise the heat a bit,” Shafari offered, but Thomas Gracie’s warning glance silenced him from saying anything further.

“They need more than just warmth.” The extra voice perked Tia’s attention toward an unfamiliar figure stepping in between the two men. He sought out Jenario in the crowd and started toward him.

Sensing Tia’s anxiety, especially when noticing those pointed ears, Jenario rested a hand over hers.

“It’s all right,” he said gently. “He helped us gather medicine on the other side.” As the Healer knelt beside him, Jenario introduced him to his fiancée.

Forest green gaze met the pixie-haired woman’s defensive staredown.

“May I?” Providence indicated to take Abraham, but as Jenario was about to hand over his son, Tia slapped a hand over his arm.

“What are you doing?! You already know how I feel about Shafari’s botched-up magic. What makes you think someone else is any different?”

Even without witnessing power, Tia was no fool. Jenario swore she had an hidden sensor to hone in on magic. The outburst, however, put a shade of red across his cheeks. He could sense Shafari’s embarrassment as well. Surely, their visitor would feel the same, but a quick glance revealed a look of understanding.

“If there was a way to make medicine produce itself, there’d be no need for us. But for your son’s sake, please.” Again, he held out his hands to take Abraham. “Time is against him.”

“Just this once, I swear it! Abraham needs all the time he can get.” Jenario dared not move. It was her call now. The glare of worry and betrayal were prominent in those eyes. Reluctantly, she released his arm. Only then did he hand over his son.

It was a bold move, but one he feared if not taken would result in a harsher consequence than defying Tia’s beliefs. He watched her leave in silent anger. This, however, did little to deter the Healer from his task. Providence only briefly followed her departure before centering all concentration on the child.

“I know that feeling.” He placed a hand over Abraham’s chest. A warm glow quickly emitted from beneath the fingers. “Winter does not allow us to connect with Nature’s energy. But I should have a enough to spare. Don’t worry. She’ll come around when she sees her son is well.”

“What of the others?” It was hard to ignore the harsh coughs reverberating off the walls.

“Hopefully, your doctor will have his medicine in time…if he’s skilled,” Providence said.

“The best Mayla had.” Jenario let his focus drift, like the lone flakes that managed to bypass the canvas flap covering the mouth of the cave. He watched them linger in the air until they drifted over one of the campfires and melted away. “They let everything go.”

The sound of someone sucking in a deep breath alerted Jenario back to his son. The wheezing subsided, and for once Abraham opened his eyes and smiled at his father.

“That’s my brave boy,” he whispered down to him. He looked up to the sound of hurried steps. While Thomas Gracie and Shafari helped with keeping the fires going and distributing food, Nickademis came with a tray of medicines he had prepared.

“Nicolas!” The teenager swiftly came to his father’s summon. “These need to be kept warm.”

Jenario noticed how Providence scrutinized every move the doctor’s son made. Though limited in magic, he managed to heat a flask to the desired temperature. It was enough to get over to Jenario’s son and administer the first few drops of dark liquid. Nickademis then hurried to others, repeating the process until there was none left.

“I’ll need more, but this should do for now,” he said to regrouping leaders at the back of the chamber.

Jenario got up to join the others, having taken his son from Providence. The child was squirming to get down as his father watched Nicolas leave with the empty bottles and tray. His gaze finally landed on Tia, who had been watching the entire process from the back. She brushed past the teenager, never acknowledging his help.

“You can already tell a difference.” Jenario could hear Thomas Gracie addressing the others. Providence had joined the group as well, but watched the pixie-haired woman with interest when she crossed the chamber at a brisk pace to take her son.

“I’ll handle it from here,” she said quickly.

“Tia…” But there was no use in arguing. With a sigh, Jenario made his way toward his companions.

“She ought to be more thankful,” Shafari said. “Your son wouldn’t have made it this far without us trying to get supplies. And then with the healing….”

“Tia’s…Tia.” Jenario scratched his spiked-hair in doubt. “She knows what she likes.”

“And what she doesn’t, no doubt.” Providence gradually shifted his focus from the woman to Nickademis. “I’m impressed with what little you had to work with.” He gestured around the room. “This is a large group to handle.”

“I do what I can…under the circumstances.”

“And under the circumstances, we’re running low on firewood,” Thomas Gracie added. “No one’s been out in that storm since our departure.”

“Well, why should they?” Shafari checked for dirt under his nails. Seeing some gritty spots, he tried to pick it out before allowing his fingers to weave through the air in magical demonstration. “That’s why they have us.” His cocky grin put everyone at ease, with Thomas Gracie only shaking his head at his meaning.

Image

Corrigan Redesigned

Corrigan Redesigned

Work in progress…. painting in details of foliage and feathers.

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Corrigan Revamp

Corrigan Revamp

Work in progress

Chapter Teaser

The Beginning of the End

 

This is it… the final countdown until the end of book three, ending the first trilogy in Blue Moon Rising. This is the first chapter that marks that beginning.

From “Healer” – chapter teaser

 

There was an erie silence throughout the city of Lexington. People hastened their business with merchants in hushed tones as a dense fog settled in from the south. Fingers of dark mist crept through back alleys and poured over the cobblestone streets. It did not take long before all of Lexington was in its grasp.

Yet Lexington’s inhabitants were not the only ones unsettled by this uncanny arrival. Surrounding hillside provided the perfect lookout points for Healers to amass. Extending their animal senses from gained shifts, they alone could detect human movement and smells within the gray covering. Among them was Chronicles, ready to signal his people forward at the first sign from either Jangus or his son.

A White Wing brushed past some leaves to join his side, his wings neatly folding into a fade. Squinting at the haze of gray, Rusha turned to the other Healer.

“I hope this doesn’t last,” he said. “A fog like this will prove hard to navigate through in mid-flight.”

Chronicles flicked his gaze over to the harpy before refocusing on the city.

“Nevertheless,” was his unmoved reply, “it will help conceal your attacks.”

“Until we hit their structures!” Rusha countered.

“Leave the buildings to us,” Chronicles soothed the harpy’s doubts. He held out a hand to demonstrate his words by calling forth a small vine from the earth. “We’ll level everything they’ve built until the only mark of their existence is a barren field!” He clenched his fist, and when he did the vine crushed a small stone beneath the soil.

“As long as you’re certain,” Rusha replied. “Why wait for the others, then?”

“I want confirmation.” Chronicles waved a hand to dismiss the Wing’s presence. “Be ready to send your people in.”

Slightly offended at the leader’s abrupt end to their conversation, Rusha backed away in silence. When his presence could be sensed no more, Chronicles turned his attention to the southern skies.

There was a mere dot in the horizon. As Chronicles’ pupils dilated to sharpen his gaze, the dot grew larger until he could just make out the raven form of Jangus. 

Sample Chapter (Unedited)

End of Part II – that leaves 10 more chapters until completeion!

This is from the third book “Healer” in the Blue Moon Rising Trilogy

Abraham never realized how heavy a Black Wing was. Even for a half-breed, the weight of Corrigan’s wings nearly doubled Abraham’s task of prying the harpy from bed. With an arm around his shoulder, and being careful of the talons, Corrigan was finally pulled to a standing position.

“Think you could adjust yourself? You’re squashing me!” Abraham grunted under the harpy’s weight.

“You’d be dragging too if you had to stay in bed for months at a time!” Corrigan mumbled and blinked several times to clear his gaze. Carefully, he moved each wing to test their agility. The movement nearly sent them airborne.

“Save it for when we’re outside!” Abraham warned. “If Jenario comes up here, you’ll have to fly.”

Corrigan just snorted and allowed the young man to help him over to the balcony doors. “Took you long enough to figure the spell.”

 

Abraham breathed in deeply once the harpy’s weight was against the balcony wall. “Wasn’t easy. Only way to get his mind off magic was to bring up the past.”

“Add the horn to the mix, and you had your work cut out for ya, huh?” Corrigan sneered.

Abraham nodded grimly.

“Suppose I can’t complain. I’m out, and I thank you for it.” The harpy attempted an awkward bow, while still holding to the wall for support. It was not until the click of lock shifted his gaze past the young man and toward another standing just inside the patio doorway.

Abraham needed no hint as to whom stood behind him. In a single motion, he turned toward his father. “Fly….” he breathed.

From behind, he could hear Corrigan’s talons scraping over stonework. Though he kept a steady gaze with his father, the muffle of movement over the balcony wall confirmed the harpy had descended.

“I won’t let you take him back.” Abraham raised a hand in defense as he father stepped outside. A spell was already forming on his tongue when Jenario just shook his head.

“There’s no need for that.” He waved the comment aside. “Corrigan’s usefulness had long since run out.”

A thrash of underbrush below the balcony suggested the harpy had reached ground level. Although still weak, Abraham knew the harpy’s wings could still deliver a good blow. There came a distant crack of twigs and rustling leaves from the Black Wing’s entrance into the forest before all was still, save for the constant rumble of overhead thunder.

Abraham kept his distance as his father stepped over to the balcony wall. There came a chuckle.

“Expecting the horn, I see,” Jenario said softly, his gaze sweeping over the shadowed land. “But let it be known that it was my every intention to see him free.”

“By using others!” Abraham returned sharply. “I see how you work. I see how THAT thing works. It uses you the same way YOU use others to get what you want.”

There was a brief moment of silence while Abraham studied his father’s unusual cool attitude.

“I haven’t seen your assassin for a while. Did you finish using him as well?”

“Indeed.” Jenario’s change from relaxed pose to an intense stare-down caused beads of sweat to line the young man’s forehead.

What was i thinking? He thought, feeling the power drawing around his father. I’m not strong enough to stand up to him OR the horn. They’d obliterate me by mere thought!

A sly smile spread across Jenario’s lips, and the eyes lit with an inner flame.

“Now what purpose would that serve when you still have potential,” the horn spoke gently. “As for Nathanial…” A shrug. “Let’s just say, I sent him into early retirement.”

Abraham lowered his eyebrows in disgust. “Maybe my father doesn’t see you as a puppet master, but I do. And I was not about to see that Black Wing’s demise!”

“So you did,” the horn replied, that crooked a smile still upon his lips as he eyed Jenario’s son.

“And I will not allow myself to be used for your gain either.” The young man started to back away. When the horn said nothing, he turned and dashed for the bedroom door, only to find it locked. Heart pounding, he raced for the secret passage. Flinging aside the paneling, he stared stupidly at the dark void of swirling portal blocking his path.

In frustration, Abraham slammed the paneling shut and whipped around. His father had moved to the only exit the room contained: the balcony.

“As I said before,” the horn cooed, “should something happen to the harpy, YOU”LL be taking his place.”

“I’ll not be kept under your spell!” Abraham returned.

“Of course not. You’ll just undo it. No, I have better plans for you. But for now,” the horn turned away from the bedroom. “There’s a war about to rage, and I plan to attend its final outcome.”

“What war?”

“One your father has prepared so nicely.”

Abraham slowly ventured over to the doors once Jenario stepped back outside, only to find the space vacant.

The distinct sound of a four-legged animal clopping over barren soil drew his attention below. While only a glimpse of the unicorn was seen before entering the forest, Abraham could not help but feel trapped. Jenario had locked the door when he had entered, and a dark portal blocked the secret passage.

He leaned over the wall to judge how far he was from ground. The tower room was the tallest structure on the building. Just thinking about climbing down sickened his stomach, and he started to back away.

There was a whoosh of wind at his back, followed by loud flapping. A strong pair of hands gripped under his arms and lifted him out over the balcony. With a yelp, Abraham dangled helplessly in midair.

“Thought you might need a lift,” came the voice of Corrigan as the two sailed out over the trees.

“You came back?” Abraham glanced up, then swung his feet to avoid hitting a limb. “Watch it!” he warned, his legs pumping to keep from hitting anything.

“I can’t lift you any higher!” Corrigan called. “We’ll be landing shortly!”

“Not out here!” Abraham exclaimed as a streak of lightning lit the sky. “You’re going to kill us both!”

The Black Wing angled his descent, circling Jenario’s home in the process to look for a place to land. The storm cloud was intense, shadowing the land with its enormous size.

“Somehow, I doubt that’s his plan now, or we’d been long gone by now.”

“The horn mentioned something about a war!” Abraham shouted. “Do you think Keith knows?”

“We’ll soon find out,” Corrigan responded.

A fresh breeze signaled freedom near the borders of Sapphire. Even with the storm looming around them, the feel of Jenario’s power grew fainter. Holding tight to the feathering around the harpy’s arms, Abraham allowed himself to be carried, hoping and praying he could somehow play a role in stopping whatever his father had started.

Daily Concept: Light vs. Darkness

This has been more of a weekly concept, to be honest. I’ve had this thought, off the charts from the normal storyline, that what if the world were to divide directly down the middle between Light and Dark?

Using the same set of characters from Wisdom Novels, it would go something like this:

Darkness and Light are each run by its Prince. Naturally, Darkness has been trying to expand its borders lately and is looking for a champion to do this. So it kidnaps the prince of Light’s daughter and coaxes its power into her. Of course, daddy doesn’t like this too much and runs in to save her.  Yet in order to do so, he must forfeit Light in order to return her to normal.

Now, at first, he would deny the power of Darkness even after becoming part of it himself. But gradually it takes hold until he’s nearly under its control. He’s sworn to protect the Realm of Light. Instead, he threatens it. Things take a nastier turn when he invades with dark minions to do his power’s bidding.

So does this have a tragic ending? You bet! What better way to end a story than having to kill off your anti-hero. My guess is that in the end he realizes he’s still loyal to the side of Light and allows himself to be captured/killed/etc. in order to save his own realm, family, and friends. At the same time, he passes the mantle of rulership to maybe his older son or someone wise enough not to make the same mistakes.

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