Cynthia A. Morgan's Blog, page 28
October 21, 2023
When Weakness is Strength – #Fantasy #CharacterSketch
.
Ayla is one of the lead characters of Dark Fey. She was present in my thoughts from the initial dream that Inspired the story; yet she is very often misunderstood by readers. Although the story could not progress without her, even I find myself frequently annoyed by her overly emotional volatility, so I decided to give my readers a bit of background about her, as well as, perhaps, an explanation.
Born with extraordinary gifts, Ayla can easily distinguish truth from lies. She can look into the eyes and see the soul, Discerning beyond all the complications of guise. Empathy runs so deeply within her that she can even take on the pain of another and she is able to hear thoughts through Telepathic connection. This rare combination of gifts first drew attention to her as a youngling; then isolated her when she was sent off to the Temple, dedicated to a life as a Guardian of Childfey.
There she was guided by scholars who filled her mind with images of good and evil. While her friends sat in cheerful classrooms and played with other childfey, she learned about secret arts and magic. She also learned that using her gifts drains her own energy by an equal proportion to that which she extends to heal or ease anothers suffering. As a result, she tried to learn to protect herself from her own Empathic inclinations, but blocking the thoughts, emotions and pain of others remained a constant challenge for her and when she reached her eighteenth birthday and took her place amidst the communal life of the village of Hwyndarin, this difficulty compeled her to keep others at a distance.
Beautiful, yet socially awkward and frequently overwhelmed by those sentiments and passions of others that she was never able to fully master blocking, she has only one friend, but when this friend introduces her to a young malefey close to her age of eighteen summers Ayla discovers magic of another kind; the enchantment of first love. Even his love, however, cannot alter her feelings of peculiarity and isolation.
Only when she hears the whispers of one who comes in shadows and silence does she begin to understand her own strengths and her own desires. When he steps from the darkness, he throws her world in chaos, requiring her to make decisions she never thought possible; asking her to face dangers she only ever read about, and altering the course of her life forever. Yet, in the process, he helps her to understand the truth about her gifts, which have set her apart for so long.
.
***A Snippet from Dark Fey The Reviled ***
“You are the only person who can help me, Ayla, because you are the only one who can know with absolute certainty what I say is the truth; that I am not deceiving you to serve my own evil purposes.” Gasping in fear, she shook her head, but Gairynzvl would not accept her refusal.
“It is your gift, Ayla, and your purpose.” She stared at him silently as tears slipped over her flushed cheeks, utterly overwhelmed by him.
“Read me, Ayla!” He growled impatiently, but she reached up and shoved him away from her with as much force as she could manage.
“I cannot!” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“You will not.”
“You are overpowering me!” She snapped back acerbically, “I cannot read through all that emotion.”
He fell silent, considering, but he did not move away and he did not release her from the intense stare he had fixed upon her that pierced into her very essence and made her shudder. After a prolonged moment, he closed his eyes and slowly drew a deep breath; visibly calming himself before he stepped closer and re-affixed her with his resolute gaze. She watched him hesitantly, released from the waves of despondency and resentment he had again opened to her, yet still fearful of what he might do next.
Unhurriedly, he reached out for her hand, patient in a way he had not been before when she started away from him to search his eyes nervously for any indication of reassurance she might find there before offering her small hand to him. Holding it lightly in his warm clasp, he reached out for the other hand, waiting just as patiently for her to understand that he would do nothing atrocious should she give it to him as well. When she did, he drew both to himself, laying her hands upon his chest, palms down over his heart, before releasing his grasp upon her. Spreading his wings wide then, he turned his face upward, closed his eyes, and opened himself to her fully.
Ayla gasped in surprised revelation. She had never done such a thing before; never physically touched someone to read them while they stood, silently surrendered to her, revealing themselves in a manner that was intensely stirring and intimate……
.
Discover More About Dark Fey on its official website
The Reviled
Standing In Shadows
Breaking Into The Light
~Morgan~
Artwork is My Own
Save
Save
October 17, 2023
Resplendent – #Haiku #PoetryoftheNaturalWorld
Resplendent Harvest
Mother, portioning her Strength
Gentle reminder
Poetry and Art by ~Morgan~
If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website
If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page
October 15, 2023
Autumnal Fire – #Poetry of the #NaturalWorld
Autumnal Fire
Sweet Flame of Inspiration
Singing to my Soul
.
Poetry and Art by
~Morgan~
If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website
If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page
September 29, 2023
Cymbalyn Quintets – #Scifi #ConceptArt
I’ve created a new alien race, one which I may eventually write a book or series around and would love your feedback 
In the Cymbalyn realm, which exists in the 16th alternate reality, humanoids exist in quintets. Each group of five consists of one Seer, who has no eyes; one Hearer who has no ears; one Speaker who has no mouth; one Scenter who has no nose and one Feeler who has no hands. These quintets are psychically melded and utilize cybernetic enhancements to act together as one being.
Cymbalyn Sightless Seer
Cymbalyn Scenter
Cymbalyn Hearer
Cymbalyn Feeler
Cymbalyn Speaker
Art and Concept by ~Morgan~
September 24, 2023
#Inspiration and #Artistry
Poetry and Art by ~Morgan~
If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website
If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page
August 29, 2023
A Perspective of Truth in our Fractured World
I love this post, so I had to share it.
Not because it’s written by a friend of mine (who’s awesome!) and not because he writes much the same as I do and I understand what he’s saying without having to do a deep dive into the metaphysical subconscious psyche.
I love it because it’s a great perspective to have in a world where our perspectives are, so often, criticized, condemned, and/ convoluted.
I hope you’ll take a moment to read Why the Safety Dance is so Important, and maybe a few more of Love With A Capital L’s words 
http://lovewithacapitall.com/2023/08/29/why-the-safety-dance-is-so-important/or – Love With A Capital L
~Morgan~
August 27, 2023
Passage- A #Fantasy #ShortStory- Conclusion
Getting up slowly, he glanced down at himself. He should have been covered with mud, but he wasn’t; he was barely dusty at all….and…he was also glowing!
With all the other peculiarities that had overwhelmed his attention in the spectral ambiance of this new environment, he hadn’t paid attention to himself. He’d never seen his aura before; he’d never really given it any thought, but here it gleamed into the rose-hued shadowlight, impossible to ignore. And as his emotions shifted from the rage and terror he’d felt just moments before back to curiosity, the color of his aura shifted. Cascading sparks of crimson cooled to lush indigo-violet hues that made his skin appear bluish and other-worldly.
The hovering murmuration of sparkling lights lingered over him, as if equally beguiled by his discovery, and from the floating conglomeration, he began to hear voices. Like hers, the language perplexed and eluded him; nevertheless, the sound was soothing in a way he could not explain. Scanning the horizon for the figure he’d been tracking, he found he could still see her lithe silhouette amid the shadows and barren rock in the distance. She hadn’t disappeared. Instead, she seemed to be watching or, perhaps, she was waiting. It didn’t really matter which; all that mattered was the fact that she…it….whatever it was… hadn’t slipped away into the unknown.
Softly, her voice called to him once again, crossing the distance that remained between them; yet now it felt even closer than before, as if she stood beside him. Looking down at himself another time, he felt greater excitement than bewilderment and all he wanted was to reach the woman so he could get answers for all the questions tumbling through his mind. He didn’t waste time contemplating the peculiarity of his aura or the strangely familiar voices whispering to him from the light. He didn’t speculate over what it meant or why the ropy arm of slimy earth had tried to drag him under, into their realm.
Their realm. The realm of darkness, of death. How he knew these things, he didn’t know; yet from somewhere deep inside himself, he realized he’d always known. Known about the dangers of the darkness, the treachery of the ground and the reason why the beings of this place lived in the air. Each moment that passed brought greater clarity, despite understanding how or why. Shaking his head at these realizations, he looked up at the hovering lights as an image formed in his mind. A vision of this place, not dark as he saw it now, but bathed in glimmering, sparkling light as if seen from within the vast murmuration of sparkling beings.
“Weston.”
His name drifted on the breeze, echoing from the shadows even as the light from the mass of sparkles dancing over him flashed brightly… for an instant. She called to him by name, refocusing his attention, and he couldn’t resist the urge to run. Her whispers became softer as he drew closer; then stopped altogether as he suddenly stepped from the distance into closeness.
He stared at her; mesmerized, just as she stared at him. She looked into his blue eyes, her own gaze as peculiar as everything else about this place. Violet in color, her eyes seemed to glow from within, sparkling much the way the lights did that still hovered over him. She looked him up and down, his tall stature and the strength of his body emphasized by the odd ornamentation of cloth covering his body. She seemed fascinated by him, yet the expression within her scintillating gaze held recognition and undeniable affection. A smile curved her pale lavender lips into a delicate smile and he returned her curious stare, both intrigued and startled by what he saw.
Lissome and irrefutably beautiful, she stood bathed in a semi-translucent rose-tinted light he hadn’t noticed from the distance. Her shimmering silvery hair, sleek and long enough to reach her knees, reflected this delicate pink hue. The color of her skin seemed to mirror the atmosphere around them, Rosy-purple in hue, she seemed to shimmer from within. She stared back at him and he understood that she was one of the sparkling entities that floated around him.
A star-being in human form, yet entirely unclothed.
The sight of her made his senses spin and a wry smirk turned the corner of his mouth. Not too difficult to figure out why, given her unclad state, but why he felt so irresistibly drawn to her was less easy to sort out. She stood before him, no longer whispering, though it seemed he could still hear her. Was it possible she was communicating with him telepathically? Certainly. It was also possible that he’d slipped over the precipice of reason and had lost his mind entirely .
He could be lying unconscious in the cool grass of Astonbury Corners, having tripped over the old well and knocked himself out by hitting one of it’s rocks. Everything he’d experienced could be nothing more than an elaborate dream concocted by his sub-conscious and his overactive imagination. It would certainly be a lot more reasonable than thinking he’d stepped through some sort of magic portal into an alternate reality where the ground was treacherous to walk on, where the air itself was alive, and where an alluring female stood before him, exquisite in every detail and beguiling him with some form of telepathy…or magic.
But she was beguiling. Exquisitely.
Unconcerned about the fact that he was quite certainly dreaming, and unhindered by the watching star-beings, who shimmered their myriad lights as if encouraging him, he stepped forward and gazed down into her upturned face. Drinking in the soft blush of her cheeks, the delicate smile turning her lips, and the spectral glimmer in her eyes, he reached out with a trembling hand to touch her. Lightly, hesitantly, he allowed his fingers to trace the contours of her cheek, her neck, and the tempting curve of her bare shoulders.
Each second seemed to transform into thunder as the gentle contact of his touch ignited an irrepressible, passionate yearning within him. His intense inspection of her brought his attention back to himself when he realized that, in the shifting spectral shades of the atmosphere his skin was reflecting the rosy-violet light just like hers did. He stared at his hand, perplexed, as an unanticipated notion suddenly filled his mind.
He remembered her.
She was his Love.
He was home.
The End
Words and Art by ~Morgan~
If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website
If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page
August 24, 2023
Passage- A #Fantasy #ShortStory- Part Four
With a squelching sound, the grasping arms of velvet mud yanked down on him and he went sprawling into the dust. Ripples spread outward from the point of his impact even as dust and gravel bit into his skin as he skidded across the solid surface of the ground. Coming to an abrupt halt, he cursed and spat out the debris that filled his mouth. Shaking his leg, he tried to free himself of the clasping tentacles pulling him backward into the quagmire of slime and muck that seemed to exist in the same space as the gravel he’d fallen onto. He scrabbled forward, away from the grasping mud, but the landscape absorbed the sound as if he spoke into a pillow. The deep baritone of his voice was insignificant and almost feeble, but it instigated an immediate response. An onslaught of vicious laughter. It echoed from nowhere and everywhere, swirling around him in a dizzying, infuriating rush and, the moment it began, the sound of her whispers ceased.
Clambering to his feet, he glared around him, realizing, at last, that the sparkles he’d thought were only water molecules in the atmosphere reflecting the odd, oscillating light had drawn closer. Much closer. No longer shimmering in the distance, they hovered directly over him, pressing inward, seething around him like an angry swarm of bees. He even swatted at them instinctively, but in the ethereal void into which he had plunged, nothing was as it should be. The ground was both solid and liquid. The air seethed with glittering sparkles that apparently had some level of cognitive awareness, and no matter how long he walked, he didn’t go anywhere.
Growling with frustration, he glared upward at the mass of glitter spiraling around him, seeming to glare back. He turned his back to the bog, challenging the mass with repeated shouts of “What?” “What do you want from me?” They didn’t respond, but in his distraction he didn’t see the enormous tendril that reached up from heaving muck behind him, encircled him like a viper and immediately began to constrict.
Screaming, he flailed wildly to free himself, but the air was expelled from his lungs with such pressure he could barely draw another breath, let alone offer any sort of resistance. Pulling him downward as the thick tendril compressed the air from his lungs, the leviathan creature, or whatever it was, laughed again.
Seconds twisted into hours.
Breaths became blades.
Blackness swirled at the edges of his vision.
From above, a shrill sound pierced the heavy atmosphere. The twinkling lights that had danced and sparkled harmlessly spiraled into a blazing maelstrom. The dark, rippling surface of the ground retracted from the glaring light as it streaked downward, surrounding him and the gargantuan arm that constricted around him with seething, intense energy. The shrill cry resonating from within the searing light was piercing and he cringed from the sound. The delicate sparkling light was suddenly as intense as lightning, stabbing and arcing around him at the thick slime slowly dragging him down into the mud. It reacted by rearing upwards and swinging first in one direction, then another before it shook violently, but the marauding swarm of light persisted in its attack.
The compression against his body began to ease and when he looked down, he could see the ropy tendril was melting, falling in great globs and droplets into the muck from where it came. Fighting to free himself, he drew a deep breath and fell to the ground even as the swarming lights pursued the rapidly disappearing tendril of slime. Scrambling away towards safer, dryer ground, he didn’t stop until the laughter and high-pitched screaming faded into silence.
Then and only then, he fell onto his back, coughing and gasping for breath and watching as the vortex of blazing light disseminated outward into a sparkling cloud once more. It hovered over him, moving like a murmuration of birds and he became aware of the female voice once again. Soft and soothing, her intonations were echoed by the collective lights and he stared up at them in amazement, realizing suddenly that they were not simply emitting sounds; they were communicating.
.
The Story Finale remains….
Words and Art by ~Morgan~
If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website
If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page
Read Part OneRead Part TwoRead Part ThreeWith a squelchin...
With a squelching sound, the grasping arms of velvet mud yanked down on him and he went sprawling into the dust. Ripples spread outward from the point of his impact even as dust and gravel bit into his skin as he skidded across the solid surface of the ground. Coming to an abrupt halt, he cursed and spat out the debris that filled his mouth. Shaking his leg, he tried to free himself of the clasping tentacles pulling him backward into the quagmire of slime and muck that seemed to exist in the same space as the gravel he’d fallen onto. He scrabbled forward, away from the grasping mud, but the landscape absorbed the sound as if he spoke into a pillow. The deep baritone of his voice was insignificant and almost feeble, but it instigated an immediate response. An onslaught of vicious laughter. It echoed from nowhere and everywhere, swirling around him in a dizzying, infuriating rush and, the moment it began, the sound of her whispers ceased.
Clambering to his feet, he glared around him, realizing, at last, that the sparkles he’d thought were only water molecules in the atmosphere reflecting the odd, oscillating light had drawn closer. Much closer. No longer shimmering in the distance, they hovered directly over him, pressing inward, seething around him like an angry swarm of bees. He even swatted at them instinctively, but in the ethereal void into which he had plunged, nothing was as it should be. The ground was both solid and liquid. The air seethed with glittering sparkles that apparently had some level of cognitive awareness, and no matter how long he walked, he didn’t go anywhere.
Growling with frustration, he glared upward at the mass of glitter spiraling around him, seeming to glare back. He turned his back to the bog, challenging the mass with repeated shouts of “What?” “What do you want from me?” They didn’t respond, but in his distraction he didn’t see the enormous tendril that reached up from heaving muck behind him, encircled him like a viper and immediately began to constrict.
Screaming, he flailed wildly to free himself, but the air was expelled from his lungs with such pressure he could barely draw another breath, let alone offer any sort of resistance. Pulling him downward as the thick tendril compressed the air from his lungs, the leviathan creature, or whatever it was, laughed again.
Seconds twisted into hours.
Breaths became blades.
Blackness swirled at the edges of his vision.
From above, a shrill sound pierced the heavy atmosphere. The twinkling lights that had danced and sparkled harmlessly spiraled into a blazing maelstrom. The dark, rippling surface of the ground retracted from the glaring light as it streaked downward, surrounding him and the gargantuan arm that constricted around him with seething, intense energy. The shrill cry resonating from within the searing light was piercing and he cringed from the sound. The delicate sparkling light was suddenly as intense as lightning, stabbing and arcing around him at the thick slime slowly dragging him down into the mud. It reacted by rearing upwards and swinging first in one direction, then another before it shook violently, but the marauding swarm of light persisted in its attack.
The compression against his body began to ease and when he looked down, he could see the ropy tendril was melting, falling in great globs and droplets into the muck from where it came. Fighting to free himself, he drew a deep breath and fell to the ground even as the swarming lights pursued the rapidly disappearing tendril of slime. Scrambling away towards safer, dryer ground, he didn’t stop until the laughter and high-pitched screaming faded into silence.
Then and only then, he fell onto his back, coughing and gasping for breath and watching as the vortex of blazing light disseminated outward into a sparkling cloud once more. It hovered over him, moving like a murmuration of birds and he became aware of the female voice once again. Soft and soothing, her intonations were echoed by the collective lights and he stared up at them in amazement, realizing suddenly that they were not simply emitting sounds; they were communicating.
.
The Story Finale remains….
Words and Art by ~Morgan~
If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website
If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page
August 22, 2023
Passage- A #Fantasy #ShortStory- Part Three
Her voice filled his mind, becoming a soliloquy of sound unlike anything he had ever heard. It was more than temptation borne upon the breeze; her whispers spun his thoughts and made his heart hammer. It didn’t matter that he could neither understand the language she spoke nor hear her intelligibly enough to even make out distinct words. The melody of her voice drew him forward and, with each step he took, the sound of her voice seemed to grow sweeter, though inexplicably softer.
The barren terrain stretched out before him, an expanse as empty as his life had been until the moment he’d chosen to step through the portal. The sky over head was the only thing that moved, awash in a perpetual motion of countless points of light. As he trudged across fields of pebbles and shale, time stretched out and his anticipation grew. He walked for what felt like hours, but appeared to make little or no progress. He neither seemed any closer to the shimmering horizon, nor any farther from the point where he’d started.
Then, in the distance, a shape appeared against the star-jeweled horizon. A lissome silhouette he could just barely see through the scintillating atmosphere. It was enough to make him quicken his pace. Each rhythmic step seemed to mirror his rushing pulse, though why such excitement thrilled through him, he had no idea. The figure was indistinct, outlined against the pulsating light of the rosy-amethyst horizon, and it didn’t seem to move or even react to him.
Focused on crossing the morass of dark, undulating ground, he didn’t notice the twinkling lights that hovered closer and closer around him like a thick swarm of insects. Aware only of the horizon that never seemed to grow closer and the whispering voice of the figure he pursued, he ignored everything else. Ignored the moisture of the atmosphere that beaded on his skin like shimmering sequins of blue and green. Ignored the slurking sound that had begun following him.
The only thing that mattered was her voice. It was beguilingly close, as if she stood right beside him speaking ever so quietly in his ear, though she stood at the limits of his visual perception. He knew she was calling to him, though her language perplexed him. He wasn’t even sure if it was a language or, perhaps, some form of nonverbal communication. A song of tone and intonation alone.
Unable to concentrate on the irregular terrain while her voice beguiled and clouded his thinking, he stumbled more than once, but he couldn’t keep his attention focused on his feet. What’s more, the longer he walked, the more unusual the sensation of walking seemed to become. Certainly, it was an ill-conceived idea to walk across such jumbled terrain without looking where he was putting his feet, but he felt suddenly very awkward and ungainly. He tripped repeatedly.
As he trudged across the expanse, his boots scrunching into the dry gravel and kicking up swaths of dust that coiled upward into the sparkling air like smoke curling from an extinguished flame, the velvety surface began to heave behind him. Like concentric rings that spread outward from a source of disturbance, the undulating ground took on the appearance of dark water.
No, not water. The soil itself moved like a viscous bog, slogging outward from each step he took; outward and upward. It was only when he glanced down to reorient himself that he happened to notice a gelatinous tendril reaching up behind him, grasping at his boot, but it was enough to distract him from the melodious inducement singing in his mind. Before he could figure out what was happening, however, a second ropy tentacle of velvety slime clutched upward at him and entwined itself around his ankle.
.
Words and Art by ~Morgan~
If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website
If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page
