Lissa Dobbs's Blog: Shadow Walkers of Grevared, page 23
November 24, 2016
November 19, 2016
The Wizards of E’ma Thalas
Gwennyth Grimsbane
In the year 4214 AOP, one Revered Tatersdale Mackle became bishop of the Arcana Maximus. Reverend Mackle had a deep-seated hatred for all creatures born with magical blood and began a covert operation to have these beings removed from the Xaggarene Empire. It was at this time that the Examiners came into being, and the Arcana Maximus gained police power. Had Reverend Mackle been able to convince his childhood friend, the then Emperor Ashcroft Billinghurst, that his plan had warrant, the witches and wizards may have been expelled sooner. However, Emperor Ashcroft determined that these beings posed no threat. As a result of this argument, Bishop Mackle moved the home of the Arcana Maximus to a small island far to the west.
At this same time period, Samara Soulton spoke out against Bishop Mackle’s plan and gained a following of witches and wizards and others with non-human blood. However, when Samara Soulton disappeared, the movement ended. For years afterwards, many of the witches and wizards, as well as others possessing a magical heritage, lived in fear of the Examiners. Over time, however, life returned to normal.
In the year 4725 AOP, Emperor Lazarus Nicodemus is finally convinced to acquiesce to the Arcana’s desire to purge the empire of magical people. Emperor Lazarus signs the edict that allows the Examiners free reign to hunt and kill witches and wizards, as well as Shadow Walkers and others. Many take refuge in E’ma Thalas, the northern home of the elves, and the Shadow Walker headquarters moves to Corleon.
Ravyn Grimsbane was the leader of the witches and wizards at this time period. She was
E’ma Thalas and the Xaggarene Empirepregnant with her oldest child, one Aramaya Grimsbane, when her mate was killed. She made her way north, across the Borderland Mountains, and begged Oberon, king of the elves, for asylum. He granted this and ceded the northernmost plot of land, now called Crowrest, to the witches and wizards with the understanding that they would guard E’ma Thalas against outside attacks from this quarter.
Since Ravyn first crossed the mountains, Crowrest Keep has become the home of the witches and wizards. It is ruled by a council of elders, though Ravyn still has final word in most major decisions. Children are educated in the ways of magic as well as combat and survival, and none are allowed to forget that the Xaggarene Empire once threw them out. Other wizarding towns have been established, the most notable being Ragekeep on the eastern edge of E’ma Thalas. The small village of Ashenthall is also primarily wizard.
The Xaggarene Empire has lifted the ban against those of magical blood, but there are many wizards who refuse to forgive. While Shadow Walkers are currently welcomed, wizards are still shunned, and many of those living in the empire are rogues cast out from E’ma Thalas. In spite of what appears to be progress towards tolerance, the Ibunana of Freywater is working ceaselessly to have the ban reinstated and all those of magical blood killed.
November 17, 2016
November 12, 2016
Cover Secrets
I’m still working on the language of Grevared, and it’s somewhat of a lengthy process. However, it’s far enough along that I can make basic phrases to put on the covers of the books.
Each one of the Ethan Grimley III books has a short phrase in Lethatu, the language of Grevared, on the cover.
On book one, A Walker is Born, the phrase ‘bakvikamin otana velobisax’ (We create our own destinies) is written along Ethan’s sword.
On book two, Cronus Attacks, ‘bildiyiniznmez hecke’ (know thyself) appears across the top of he mirror.
On book three, Revenge of Cronus, the phrase ‘untuz fitwasabren'(happy holidays) appears across the top of the hourglass.
I’m hoping that it won’t be too much longer before I have the language completed and can start really applying myself to learning it and, perhaps, adding more phrases to the books. I’ll have to admit that creating it is a lot of fun.
Best wishes!
Lissa Dobbs
November 8, 2016
The Death of Ravyn Grimsbane
This is the first chapter of my current WIP The Diary of Gwennyth Grimsbane. Comments and opinions would be appreciated. Thanks.
Best wishes!
Lissa Dobbs
The Death of Ravyn Grimsbane
The day we were banished from the Xaggarene Empire is one that will live in the memory of the witches and wizards of Grevared forever; though, in retrospect, none of us would mourn the loss. We have our power, and we have our faith, and we have ourselves. Our home at Crowrest in the Kingdom of E’ma Thalas is a beautiful place where we can live in peace among the elves of that kingdom. We have been welcomed here and given the sacred duty to protect the northern borders of E’ma Thalas from all who would harm her.
When I was small I wondered what could possibly harm us, perched as we were on the edge of the land with nothing behind us but the vast emptiness of the void. It wasn’t until my fifty-sixth year that my question was answered in the form of a void serpent, a gigantic, legless creature with scales the size of shields and fangs the length of swords. Vicious and cruel, the beasts rode the currents of the void and attacked all who dared cross their paths. Not even the great scholar Mylar Massengill fully understood why these monsters behaved the way they did, but on the day the creature attacked, I learned just how powerful we of Crowrest really were. I’ll never forget the stench of the vile creature or the burn from where its blood splattered me.
The serpent arrived just as the light began to shine. A guard, I’ve forgotten his name, sounded the alarm just as Ravyn, Vonner, and I were sitting down to break our fast. We arced to the ramparts to join the guard, and my soul trembled at its appearance. Ravyn issued orders, a rapid fire of words that the body understood even if the mind failed to comprehend them, and we jumped to obey. Wizard fire lit the morning, and the void serpent was soon nothing more than charred bits raining down upon Crowrest Keep. I never again doubted our purpose or the elven king’s wisdom in assigning us this task.
My people call themselves the children of Aradia, goddess of magic; though the last of us to speak with her was my mother Ravyn Grimsbane. I found the following letter in my mother’s effects when she transposed forms at nearly 800 years of age.
My Dearest Gwennyth,
As you know, we witches and wizards claim to be the children of the goddess Aradia. This is true in essence; however, there is a secret known only to the Grimsbane family that can only be shared by Aradia herself. Seek her out, but look not in the places of the gods. Hurry, my child, for the fate of our power may rest in your discovery.
With love,
Mother
My mother often spoke like this and created mystery where there was none. I disregarded her message entirely, thinking it nothing more than her typical theatrics, then three days ago our world was shaken.
Ravyn transposed six weeks ago while searching the woods below Crowrest Keep for an herb she claimed only blooms once a year. She’d done this every year for as long as I could remember, more than a hundred winters, so I’d had no cause to be concerned at her absence. When I was small Mother would take me with her, and we would spend several days in the woods as I learned herb craft and animal lore. As I got older my interests took another direction, and I ceased to accompany her. On this day I regretted that choice.
Two wood elves, who had long been friends of Ravyn’s, discovered her body and returned it to us. Zaleria laid my mother’s body in the courtyard of Crowrest and stepped back with her head bowed. Long, mulberry hair wavered in the breeze and tears watered eyes the color of new leaves. Her wings fluttered once then drooped, and she looked at me as if begging me to explain this thing before her. Silence and stillness emanated from her in a way peculiar to the elven folk, and that stillness screamed her sorrow more than sobs ever could.
Calerel, too, kept silent. She shifted her quiver on her shoulder and pulled her emerald hair from her neck. She held her longbow loosely in her hand, and tears poured from her crimson eyes. Younger than Zaleria by more than a century, Calerel was still considered a child by her people. She and I had played together as babes, and I longed to reach for her now, though I knew it wasn’t the elven way.
“We found her below in the forest,” Zaleria whispered. “It looked as if no harm had come to her.”
I nodded, unable to speak. As immortal elves, they would have little knowledge of death from old age, though Mother appeared to be little older than me. It didn’t occur to me at the time to search for another cause of death. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
Zaleria nodded and rose silently into the gray sky. As always, I was amazed that such delicate wings could lift her. I watched the fairies fade into the distance, then I turned my attention to my mother. It was summer, long passed midsummer, so our mourning ritual would have to take place quickly. I needed to gather the witches, set the fires. My mother was our leader, so someone would have to take over the business of Crowrest. My siblings were older than me by several centuries, and all four had left Crowrest before I was born. I’d never even met the eldest, a sister. I thought of trying to contact them using the magic that surrounded me; but I dismissed the thought, for it could take weeks for them to arrive. Our magic wouldn’t transport us through the void, and I had no idea where my siblings resided.
There’s so much to do.
I slowed my rambling thoughts with deep breaths and the exercises my mother had taught me in my youth, then I entered the keep to get busy.
The fires ringing the courtyard had burned to embers that glowed like eyes in the darkness. The others had gone, leaving me to stand a solitary vigil until the last light extinguished. It was our way, and I knew this, but I longed for companionship – a soft touch, a kind word – but I was alone with the ashes of the only leader Crowrest had ever known. I was alone with nothing but the sturdy walls of the keep for comfort. The scent of smoke was heavy in the air, and I could hear the night creatures from the distant forest below. The keep itself was silent, as it was near morning, and I watched the embers with the same silence – not seeing, not feeling. I simply was.
The last fire died just as the faint light of day began to shine. There was a gradual lightening of the gray void that crowned our world, and I always thought of it more as an illumination of thought than a true break of day. I watched the nearly imperceptible expansion of light and pondered the world for just a moment. We’d been instructed in the nature of existence and how the multiple planes had become one. We’d been taught that a sun and moon once rose and set and that stars once twinkled overhead. I wasn’t sure I could conceive of a universe where gods and demons lived on their planes and elves were no more than legends, and I knew I couldn’t comprehend the event that had destroyed it all. All I knew was that the collapse of the universe was what made our magic work. The chaos of the void, the rampant energies that surrounded us, fueled our blood and charged our nerves. Thus I had been taught, and thus I believed.
I rose from the chill stones and said a silent good-bye to Ravyn Grimsbane. I thought about all she had accomplished since fleeing the Xaggarene Empire, then I turned into the shadows of the keep, anxious for bed. My muscles hurt from the long night of saying farewell, and I knew the coming days would entail sorting through my mother’s belongings. I had yet to shed a tear, but grief would come later. It was our way.
The corridor leading to my chambers was dark, almost sinister in this noiseless hour, so I raised my left hand and called forth the magic light I normally used. For a moment, a soft nimbus of pale purple surrounded my hand and lit the way forward, then it winked out, and I was in darkness.
Just tired, I thought as I opened the door to my chambers. I tossed my cloak on the floor and climbed into bed. A moment later the sweet oblivion of sleep overtook me.
Days passed into weeks, and I adjusted, though exhaustion was an ever-present reminder of my mother’s absence. How she’d managed to do all she had done without collapsing for all those years, I’d never know. She’d overseen everything in Crowrest Keep – the food stores, the maintenance, the cleaning – and she’d led the council and decided trade policy. Reward to punishment, Ravyn Grimsbane had done it all, and I was nothing more than a woefully inadequate replacement. Every sidelong glance, every condescending remark, every correction reminded me that I was not Ravyn Grimsbane and never would be.
I awoke one morning several weeks after Ravyn’s last rites to someone banging on my door. I cursed and untangled myself from the twisted blankets. Though I was annoyed, there was relief for being awakened from yet another dream of Ravyn. I tried to remember what she had been saying, but the pounding continued and destroyed my concentration. The images that had been crystal clear a moment before dissipated like the shredded fog that crept through the lower forest, and I was left with nothing more than the lingering sense that I had forgotten something of the utmost importance.
“I’m coming!” I called.
I stumbled on my clothing, left on the floor after another late night, and opened the door to see Vonner Calerook looking even more exhausted than I felt. His blonde hair stood in spikes from where he’d neglected to brush it, and dark circles lined marigold eyes. The clasp of his cloak lay on his shoulder instead of at his throat, and I was fairly certain he was bootless. His normally rosy cheeks were the pallid gray of bread dough, and he shifted from foot to foot. His mouth moved as if he were trying to speak, but no sound passed his lips.
“What is it, Vonner? We took care of trade with Bonetide yesterday.” I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice, and the comfort of my bed called from behind me. I glanced back over my shoulder to see nothing but blackness beyond my window and turned back to Vonner with a scowl.
Vonner held up his right hand, palm upward, and took a deep breath. “Watch,” he instructed.
I watched, though the flickering torchlight to my right made my head ache. His fingers were long and delicate, and his palms were calloused from his work in the stables. His hands trembled, but, other than that, I saw nothing of interest.
“What am I supposed to see?” I peered into the gloom of the hallway and almost wished someone would come to distract him so he would leave me alone.
“Exactly.”
I lifted an eyebrow in askance and rubbed my eyes beneath my spectacles. “Please, Vonner, I’m tired. What am I supposed to see?”
“Magic.”
My breath caught, and I looked at my own hand, focusing my will with all my might. Nothing. I looked at Vonner, and he looked at me. Together we hastened to my mother’s chambers.
I grabbed the torch by her door and burst into the room. My heart hammered against my ribs with such force that it knocked my breath from my lungs. The torchlight danced in my trembling hands, and a knot of dread sank into my gut.
“The letter,” I breathed.
I rifled through the pages on her desk, scattering many like feathers onto the floor, until I found the letter I’d tossed aside several weeks before, the one I’d considered to be nothing more than melodrama. I passed it to Vonner, who scanned it before his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened.
“Our power?” he breathed.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. My mind whirled through possibilities. “Perhaps.”
Now, three days later, I’m prepared to begin my journey, the one my mother desired me to undertake. Vonner has said he’ll go with me, but I’m not sure how long he’ll last. At least I won’t be alone. For a while. May the gods guide my footsteps.
November 5, 2016
Writing Update – Works in Progress
I’ve spent a lot of time this year working on the first three books of The Chronicles of Ethan Grimley III, and it’s only been this week that I’ve realized just how neglected my adult works were. Sheesh!
I currently have about a dozen in progress, and I’m trying to decide which ones to focus on first.
The Diary of Gwennyth Grimsbane – This one was originally published here in installments as The Search for Aradia. At the time, it was just a couple of hundred words a week that I was playing around with, but I believe it could turn into something worth reading with some revision. It will be told from Gwennyth’s point of view as she and her best friend Vonner search for a goddess as her mother wished her to do. I’m trying to decide if Gwennyth and Vonner should become more than friends, so if anyone wants to chime in on that, feel free.
River of Blood – This story takes place about twenty years before ‘the novel that never ends’ (I know. I know. I keep saying I’m working on it, but I want some shorter things out first so I can make sure the world is solidified in my own head.) Erastus Hallowell lives in the Shizzuria Wasteland. He discovers a secret about himself and his family that leads to a tragedy that sends him out into the wasteland for the next twenty or so years. He finds a place with the Rangers, and his story will go from there. (It’s outlined, but I don’t want to give spoilers.)
The Keeper of Souls – This one I’m not quite so sure about yet. I wanted it to be a short story
for my website for Halloween, but once I got into the story, it took on a life of its own, and I think it will work better as one a bit longer. It takes place about a year before Wolf in the Shadow>and focuses on Cooley Cray and a Reverend of the Arcana Maximus. At the festival of Akatha Mabikym, a ceremony that dissolves the spirits of the dead, a wizard in the employ of the Harmarayan, an insular group who believe the souls of the dead should be free to inhabit the plane with the living, attempts to interrupt the ceremony and prevent the souls’ dissolution. Shadow Walker Cooley Cray and Reverend Morgan Harper seek out the wizard to prevent him interrupting any more ceremonies and condemning the people of Grevared to being overrun with the dead.
I think working on these will occupy me for the next few months, and if anyone has a preference on which one should take priority, sing out. I welcome suggestions.
Best wishes!
Lissa Dobbs
October 30, 2016
Dream Gods Woes
We spend almost a third of our lives asleep, and while we sleep we dream. We get images of things from our waking lives, and we also see images that seem to come from somewhere else altogether. Some dreams are pleasant, restful experiences, while others are nightmares that leave us stumped as to their origin. This has been the case for humanity throughout all of recorded history. Even as far back as ancient Mesopotamia, people have recorded their dreams and tried to glean meaning from these nocturnal visions.
One of my current works in progress deals with a dream god, but I’ve had some difficulty deciding how to represent the god. While there are lots of different night deities, there are actually few that specifically represent dreams. I found this extremely odd simply because so much importance is placed on dreams and their meaning throughout history and mythology.
Most of us have heard of the Sandman. This mythological creature puts sand in the eyes, particularly of children, to help them fall asleep at night. (http://www.sleepdex.org/legends.htm). However, this benevolent creature did not begin as a benign friend of children. In the original folklore, he’s a gruesome character that will punish those who don’t fall asleep right away with nightmares and other horrid punishments. There is even one tale of him taking the eyes of naughty children to the moon to feed his own offspring. (https://vanwinkles.com/the-twisted-history-of-the-sandman).
The Sandman is said to have originated as a transmutation of the Greek god Morpheus. More than any other culture, the Greeks had dream and sleep gods, and Morpheus was the dream messenger of the gods. It was his responsibility to provide glimpses into a person’s future and to shape their dreams to reveal truths. Morpheus was chosen for this task because he was the most able to transform himself into any human and mimic their traits more exactly than the other Oneiroi. (http://www.greekmyths-greekmythology.com/morpheus-the-god-of-dreams/)
There are many mentions of prophets and wise men interpreting dreams, and there are tons of tales of gods who created while asleep – Vishnu being one of them – but these weren’t really what I was looking for in the research. What I finally settled on for my own work was to name the dream god Yukamalu and have him as an amalgamation of other dream gods. In Grevared, the gods battled for dominance when the universe exploded, and only the strongest survived. Those who were mostly destroyed combined into single deities, so Yukamalu came into being as a deity with multiple traits. Now I just have to figure out just what those traits are and whether he’s going to be a benevolent god or a more malevolent one.
Best wishes!
Lissa Dobbs
October 28, 2016
It’s Release Day!!!!
Ethan has settled in to life as a Shadow Walker, but as Yuletide approaches, he’s anxious to get home for the holiday. And the best part? His friends are going with him.
But life as a Shadow Walker is full of unexpected surprises, and when a new student brings an enemy into their midst, Yuletide plans are put on hold. Ethan and his friends have to deal with the threat and protect Land’s End from the wrath of an angry god.
EXCERPT
Ethan shrugged and ducked around Kayne. “Kayne, we just now met him. I haven’t had time to think about it yet. Now, can we just go see what Mr. Merriweather wants?”
Kayne laughed. “You’re afraid we’re in trouble, aren’t you?”
Ethan looked back over his shoulder. “Aren’t you? How many kids do you hear of going to his office?” Ethan stopped and looked at Kayne. “Remember last time?”
Last time they had been in serious trouble for sneaking out and looking for Cronus. Mr. Merriweather had made them tackle the cleanup of the lobby and had grounded them, but he had lifted the punishment when Ethan and Kayne had saved Faylen.
Kayne scratched the back of his neck and shook his head. “Well, I actually wind up there a lot, come to think of it.”
Ethan laughed. “That’s because you always do stupid stuff, then you’re shocked when you get caught.”
Kayne laughed along with him. “Okay. I’ll give you that.”
The boys stopped in front of Barnabas Merriweather’s door and knocked. They waited until they were called, then they entered.
Other books in the series: (available in eBook and paperback)
The Chronicles of Ethan Grimley III: A Walker is Born
The Chronicles of Ethan Grimley III: Cronus Attacks
Learn more about Ethan’s world, read free stories, and download printable coloring pages and word searches at http://www.lissadobbs.com.
October 27, 2016
Meet Kayne Soulton
Name: Kayne Soulton
Age: 13 winters
Appearance: brown hair with too long bangs, violet eyes. Tall and a bit thin.
Birthplace: Crowrest, E’ma Thalas
Family: Kayne’s parents died when he was very little, and he was then cared for by his brother Del. He left his brother’s company when he was ten winters old, just after receiving the mace, and travelled to Corleon to join the Shadow Walkers.
Current Home: Ymla, Corleon
Weapon: Mace of Tishtrya – it can call lightning and thunder
Pantheon: Persian
Other Info: Kayne is a born wizard, something he forgets from time to time, especially in a crisis. He’s brash and disrespectful, but he has a tendency to stay just barely on the right side of the line. He’s a fierce friend, but he also has a deep-seated anger that boils within him. He’s able to hide this most of the time.
Favorite Foods: Kayne is a sweets junkie. He always has some kind of candy in his room, though he’s careful not to let his friends know that. He also enjoys Old Marshall’s roast beef and vegetables, and he absolutely adores bacon.
Fears: More than anything in the world, Kayne fears being abandoned. Though he acts brash and confident, he’s actually quite insecure and wants nothing more than to be loved and accepted.
Favorite Teacher: Kayne doesn’t think much of education, but he has great respect for Barnabas Merriweather, the leader of the school, though he’d never let Mr. Merriweather know that.
Greatest Desire: Kayne’s greatest desire is to find someone to truly love him.
Follow Kayne and his adventures in The Chronicles of Ethan Grimley III, available on all eBook platforms. Learn more about Kayne’s world at http://www.lissadobbs.com
Shadow Walkers of Grevared
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