Elaina J. Davidson's Blog, page 341
June 17, 2016
Your Unicorn Name
Bracken Candy Reins!
June 15, 2016
The King's Challenge #329
TKC 329
The young woman suffers spasms as I probe her, but she does not deny my entry. I am aware that Iniri has joined us, although I cannot look at her.
Long minutes pass and I laud Siri’s tenacity. Most men will have withdrawn after the first ten seconds, while women tend to stay with me for at least twenty – women endure pain longer – but she accepts all. Her blood is warm to my etheric touch, her heartbeat strong. She is in full health, although a little dehydrated, and I sense she is hungry. Probing deeper, I ‘read’ her genetics, as well as the signature unique to her. We all possess such a signature; it is tied to our auras but is also far more.
“Enough, father,” I hear Iniri murmur.
Yes, it is enough. The young woman is about to convulse. I release her and she falls back; Iniri kneels to hold her from behind, crooning unintelligible words.
More long minutes pass, this time to find equanimity. I wait. She will only hear me when she is able to focus outward once more.
A shudder passes through her and finally she looks up at me again, the question clear in her gaze.
“You are Massinian with Ilfin genetics,” I respond to her silent plea. “Your bloodline is from Makaran, but your soul is from the spaces here.” I shift my attention to Iniri. “I suspect many born to the world below will have this duality. Ancestral blood allows the passing down of talents, but their souls are new.”
“Original souls?” Iniri asks as she helps the younger woman stand.
“Siri Mur is original to this world; who knows if there is an ancient recycle program in place.”
“What does this mean for Damin and me?” Siri interrupts.
“Damin is both. Massinian born with Ilfin genetics, which means he is your brother true here, but his soul is Makaran original, which means he cannot be bonded to you across the time passed.”
The young woman suffers spasms as I probe her, but she does not deny my entry. I am aware that Iniri has joined us, although I cannot look at her.
Long minutes pass and I laud Siri’s tenacity. Most men will have withdrawn after the first ten seconds, while women tend to stay with me for at least twenty – women endure pain longer – but she accepts all. Her blood is warm to my etheric touch, her heartbeat strong. She is in full health, although a little dehydrated, and I sense she is hungry. Probing deeper, I ‘read’ her genetics, as well as the signature unique to her. We all possess such a signature; it is tied to our auras but is also far more.
“Enough, father,” I hear Iniri murmur.
Yes, it is enough. The young woman is about to convulse. I release her and she falls back; Iniri kneels to hold her from behind, crooning unintelligible words.
More long minutes pass, this time to find equanimity. I wait. She will only hear me when she is able to focus outward once more.
A shudder passes through her and finally she looks up at me again, the question clear in her gaze.
“You are Massinian with Ilfin genetics,” I respond to her silent plea. “Your bloodline is from Makaran, but your soul is from the spaces here.” I shift my attention to Iniri. “I suspect many born to the world below will have this duality. Ancestral blood allows the passing down of talents, but their souls are new.”
“Original souls?” Iniri asks as she helps the younger woman stand.
“Siri Mur is original to this world; who knows if there is an ancient recycle program in place.”
“What does this mean for Damin and me?” Siri interrupts.
“Damin is both. Massinian born with Ilfin genetics, which means he is your brother true here, but his soul is Makaran original, which means he cannot be bonded to you across the time passed.”
June 14, 2016
June 13, 2016
The King's Challenge #327 andd #328
TKC 327 and 328
We wait for Gennerin’s return. Not only has he left to make arrangements for Leffandir’s incarceration, but he needs to broadcast the commands that will launch the army here and our other armies elsewhere.
I have given my permission for Enris and Coltern to return to Massin along with the two westerners. The man known as Kay Laremer is a stranger to me, although I do read his inherent talent for technological ‘issues’. The older one with his tanned face and pale hair strikes the chords of familiarity, however; I have not placed this Mirlin yet, but am aware he is somehow known to me. Apparently his talent for seeing what others cannot is how they discovered where I am. He has my eternal appreciation; Enris appears also to trust him, and that is enough for me at this time.
This leaves me with my daughter and Siri Mur. We are not leaving until Gennerin returns with soldiers loyal to him; no one is able with any certainty to claim that Moravin has not put other, less obvious obstacles in our paths.
Lorn is under guard in one of the suites above. Coltern informed me before he left that Lorn did not enter quietly and thus many are now aware that more than one Makar is aboard. It is thus time to make our presence known. Already Iniri has revealed herself to the Ilfin; now she and Gennerin will present to them their king as well.
I pray we win this escalating war, because, besides Brandt waiting in comfort back home, every royal Makar is now here. It will be easy to wipe us from history in this backwater space.
Glancing at Siri Mur, I wonder if she is true Massinian born or a soul recycled from Makaran. So many Ilfin went to ground on the planet below in ages past, it is now difficult to tell who is what. Considering that she and Damin Mur were born to the same parents and Damin was and is General Coltern, First of the armies sent into the badlands, there is a beyond reasonable expectation that she is Ilfin true as well. This does not mean she and Coltern are automatically related – Coltern had no siblings, if memory serves – yet she may in some manner be connected to his past.
I am able to determine her heritage, of course, simply by allowing the flows of my talents to enter her; it is, however, somewhat painful for the recipient and I do not wish to cause suffering of any kind at this point, particularly not to a lovely young woman who gave her all to aid in my healing.
She clearly has different thoughts on the subject, however, for she comes to kneel before me. “Majesty, I have heard you are able to see the soul within.” Lifting her head to look at me, she adds, “I humbly ask if you are able to do so for me.”
I lift my gaze to Iniri, who inclines her head. So this is what their whispered conversation was about. Siri no doubt needed to know about her brother’s unveiling and it led her to this request.
“It is quite painful,” I murmur.
“Iniri told me as much, but I am prepared to accept that.”
Sighing, I lean down to touch her shoulder. “Please rise.” When she stands before me, gazing directly at me, I smile. “You have courage, Siri Mur.” She blinks. Usually my subjects are not as direct and she no doubt realises it. “Give me your hand. Do not move at all.”
Nodding, she extends a hand. She does not move even an eyelid when I take it into mine. She has courage indeed.
We wait for Gennerin’s return. Not only has he left to make arrangements for Leffandir’s incarceration, but he needs to broadcast the commands that will launch the army here and our other armies elsewhere.
I have given my permission for Enris and Coltern to return to Massin along with the two westerners. The man known as Kay Laremer is a stranger to me, although I do read his inherent talent for technological ‘issues’. The older one with his tanned face and pale hair strikes the chords of familiarity, however; I have not placed this Mirlin yet, but am aware he is somehow known to me. Apparently his talent for seeing what others cannot is how they discovered where I am. He has my eternal appreciation; Enris appears also to trust him, and that is enough for me at this time.
This leaves me with my daughter and Siri Mur. We are not leaving until Gennerin returns with soldiers loyal to him; no one is able with any certainty to claim that Moravin has not put other, less obvious obstacles in our paths.
Lorn is under guard in one of the suites above. Coltern informed me before he left that Lorn did not enter quietly and thus many are now aware that more than one Makar is aboard. It is thus time to make our presence known. Already Iniri has revealed herself to the Ilfin; now she and Gennerin will present to them their king as well.
I pray we win this escalating war, because, besides Brandt waiting in comfort back home, every royal Makar is now here. It will be easy to wipe us from history in this backwater space.
Glancing at Siri Mur, I wonder if she is true Massinian born or a soul recycled from Makaran. So many Ilfin went to ground on the planet below in ages past, it is now difficult to tell who is what. Considering that she and Damin Mur were born to the same parents and Damin was and is General Coltern, First of the armies sent into the badlands, there is a beyond reasonable expectation that she is Ilfin true as well. This does not mean she and Coltern are automatically related – Coltern had no siblings, if memory serves – yet she may in some manner be connected to his past.
I am able to determine her heritage, of course, simply by allowing the flows of my talents to enter her; it is, however, somewhat painful for the recipient and I do not wish to cause suffering of any kind at this point, particularly not to a lovely young woman who gave her all to aid in my healing.
She clearly has different thoughts on the subject, however, for she comes to kneel before me. “Majesty, I have heard you are able to see the soul within.” Lifting her head to look at me, she adds, “I humbly ask if you are able to do so for me.”
I lift my gaze to Iniri, who inclines her head. So this is what their whispered conversation was about. Siri no doubt needed to know about her brother’s unveiling and it led her to this request.
“It is quite painful,” I murmur.
“Iniri told me as much, but I am prepared to accept that.”
Sighing, I lean down to touch her shoulder. “Please rise.” When she stands before me, gazing directly at me, I smile. “You have courage, Siri Mur.” She blinks. Usually my subjects are not as direct and she no doubt realises it. “Give me your hand. Do not move at all.”
Nodding, she extends a hand. She does not move even an eyelid when I take it into mine. She has courage indeed.
