Elaina J. Davidson's Blog, page 365
January 24, 2016
The King's Challenge #181 and #182
TKC 181 and 182
Three days later virtually the entire host is dispersed. Work teams head out in the morning to return as night falls, although some roam further afield and camp out wherever they are. It appears, after the division, we are more Ilfin than Glonu and while this is better for the situation on this side of the rim, for escape it is a problem.
One Ilfin requires three Glonu sacrifices in order to leave.
Many Ilfin will thus remain trapped here to become part of the Glonu army. I notice how drawn Lyra’s face becomes; she has calculated those numbers.
Kay paces the cave like a madman, muttering under his breath. Manuel has gone south, but I noticed the searching look he gave his brother-in-arms before he left. Manuel is suspicious of this entire enterprise. He, like to the others, does not yet know his genesis, but soon Arc will reveal it to them and then we will be in trouble.
Soon Arc will play with Ilfin minds also, to transform them into the enemy; we are almost out of time.
The children remain nearby, under watch from rotating teams of minders. The women are all Ilfin, the kids are made up of both kinds. Lyra is silent on the subject, as I have held my peace. No one desires to hurt a child; by unspoken consensus we have decided to save all of them if possible, whatever it implies for the future.
Kay comes to a sudden stop. “How long do we have before we no longer recognise that this place is a trap?”
“Not long,” Lyra says quietly.
Kay focuses his attention on me. “We need to keep those we believe able to fight, right? But if Arc gets to them …”
“One problem at a time, Kay,” I say.
“Where is Damin?” the westerner demands, appearing suspicious. “Are you all planning stuff behind my back?”
Lyra flicks me a look and I understand her concern. Is Arc beginning to prove its insidious influence? I shake my head slightly and she looks away. “Damin is having a quiet word with those we marked as fighters. He will then lead them south.”
Kay stares at me. “Why am I not involved?”
“Your loyalties are torn,” Mirlin says as he enters the cave. “You will seek to save Manuel and others you know from your long march to this place.”
“It’s Manuel, Mirlin!”
The older man closes his eyes. “I know, my brother, but this is war.”
Manuel swings back to me. “Why are you not with Damin?”
“Folk trust Damin; I am a boy who changed, someone who does strange things,” I respond. “Damin is the better choice for this task.”
“And if it comes to fighting?”
“If he needs me he will call.”
Kay frowns. “How? He will be far from here.”
“He is a Delver,” I remind the distraught man. “And I am able to hear him.”
Lyra smacks a wooden bowl down. “Will you keep quiet? I have had enough of war talk.”
Mirlin turns his head my way, his gaze unreadable. Yes, it is time to talk to my sister. To that end, I stand up from the log someone dragged in as seating. “Lyra …”
“No,” she snaps. “I know that tone. Do not treat me as a child. Not only will I not accept the reversal of roles from you, but I am well aware of the stakes … and my part in it. Leave me alone.” She shifts her focus to Mirlin. “Are you not meant to be with Damin?”
“I am meeting him in a few hours. He needs time to get everyone in place,” Mirlin says. “Horin, we need you with us.”
I shake my head. “I will be bringing the Ilfin to the barrier. When enough have died in the south, I aim to help them go beyond.”
“There is a lot of plans in place I know nothing of,” Kay mutters.
“You are not alone in that,” Lyra says, staring at me.
Three days later virtually the entire host is dispersed. Work teams head out in the morning to return as night falls, although some roam further afield and camp out wherever they are. It appears, after the division, we are more Ilfin than Glonu and while this is better for the situation on this side of the rim, for escape it is a problem.
One Ilfin requires three Glonu sacrifices in order to leave.
Many Ilfin will thus remain trapped here to become part of the Glonu army. I notice how drawn Lyra’s face becomes; she has calculated those numbers.
Kay paces the cave like a madman, muttering under his breath. Manuel has gone south, but I noticed the searching look he gave his brother-in-arms before he left. Manuel is suspicious of this entire enterprise. He, like to the others, does not yet know his genesis, but soon Arc will reveal it to them and then we will be in trouble.
Soon Arc will play with Ilfin minds also, to transform them into the enemy; we are almost out of time.
The children remain nearby, under watch from rotating teams of minders. The women are all Ilfin, the kids are made up of both kinds. Lyra is silent on the subject, as I have held my peace. No one desires to hurt a child; by unspoken consensus we have decided to save all of them if possible, whatever it implies for the future.
Kay comes to a sudden stop. “How long do we have before we no longer recognise that this place is a trap?”
“Not long,” Lyra says quietly.
Kay focuses his attention on me. “We need to keep those we believe able to fight, right? But if Arc gets to them …”
“One problem at a time, Kay,” I say.
“Where is Damin?” the westerner demands, appearing suspicious. “Are you all planning stuff behind my back?”
Lyra flicks me a look and I understand her concern. Is Arc beginning to prove its insidious influence? I shake my head slightly and she looks away. “Damin is having a quiet word with those we marked as fighters. He will then lead them south.”
Kay stares at me. “Why am I not involved?”
“Your loyalties are torn,” Mirlin says as he enters the cave. “You will seek to save Manuel and others you know from your long march to this place.”
“It’s Manuel, Mirlin!”
The older man closes his eyes. “I know, my brother, but this is war.”
Manuel swings back to me. “Why are you not with Damin?”
“Folk trust Damin; I am a boy who changed, someone who does strange things,” I respond. “Damin is the better choice for this task.”
“And if it comes to fighting?”
“If he needs me he will call.”
Kay frowns. “How? He will be far from here.”
“He is a Delver,” I remind the distraught man. “And I am able to hear him.”
Lyra smacks a wooden bowl down. “Will you keep quiet? I have had enough of war talk.”
Mirlin turns his head my way, his gaze unreadable. Yes, it is time to talk to my sister. To that end, I stand up from the log someone dragged in as seating. “Lyra …”
“No,” she snaps. “I know that tone. Do not treat me as a child. Not only will I not accept the reversal of roles from you, but I am well aware of the stakes … and my part in it. Leave me alone.” She shifts her focus to Mirlin. “Are you not meant to be with Damin?”
“I am meeting him in a few hours. He needs time to get everyone in place,” Mirlin says. “Horin, we need you with us.”
I shake my head. “I will be bringing the Ilfin to the barrier. When enough have died in the south, I aim to help them go beyond.”
“There is a lot of plans in place I know nothing of,” Kay mutters.
“You are not alone in that,” Lyra says, staring at me.
January 23, 2016
The King's Challenge #179 and #180
TKC 179 and 180
After a rousing speech about the need to secure the territory near the rim of the mountains until we are able to find the solution to again leaving, Damin explains about the work team idea in greater detail. There will be two to four teams for each task, in order to cover more ground in the same time frame.
Please, he says, come to the table for your task, so we may record your name and with which team you will be. This way we can keep track of who is where in the event something happens. He does not explain what that ‘something’ is, but folk use their imaginations and no one speaks against it.
Studying him, I realise Damin has the kind of presence people trust. If they know why he summons them individually, trust will evaporate.
It begins. The task list is long and the line of people is endless. Damin sits behind a makeshift table with a scribe’s tools before him and looks up at a man or woman, asks for a name, then records it in one of two places. He has a smile for everyone, but his tension is evident in a ticking jaw. He has not revealed to us what he sees, but it is clear the images are overwhelming.
When a team comprises of twelve members, he sends them to Kay. The westerner hands to them tools they will need. Each team is then sent on its way.
Watching all this, I understand it will be days before all are marked as either Glonu or Ilfin, days before they are separated north and south. We do not have that kind of time and yet it must be done. The next issue is how to summon Glonu to the barrier without raising suspicion …
Mirlin comes to rest at my shoulder, startling me. “Notice the difference in terrain,” the man murmurs. “South is rockier, has more obstacles, while the northern slope is smoother.”
Casting my gaze in both directions, I see his point. “He sends the Glonu south.”
“He makes it difficult for them to defend themselves,” Mirlin nods.
“Because he intends to go to battle with them.” Again I focus on Damin. The Marsh Devil. The man understands that the time wasted in separating this host will need to be recovered. He therefore plans for a mighty event, one that will be over swiftly. Diabolical, but smart. I agree with him. Lifting my gaze to Lyra further up, where she dispenses food for the day, I also understand she will not be pleased.
I need to have words with my sister soon.
“Horin, start marking the potential soldiers Damin sends north,” Mirlin says. “We will soon have need of them.”
My lips tighten, but I nod and Mirlin moves away. It seems I am not as forward-thinking as the others are. They have already understood what must come next, while I twiddle with my sword here, watching and wondering. Mirlin’s retreating form reminds me of his talent. One able to see in darkness. Blinking, I see it will be a night battle. Damin will use Mirlin to advantage. Diabolical … the mind of a general.
Lyra is waving at me. I make my way through gathering work teams to her side.
“Horin, will you tell Damin to add a search for clay as a task? We need to make more vessels.”
She barely looks at me, merely sending a fleeting smile. She has her hands full with dispensing stores. Around her is a host of children, all trying to help. I blink at the young ones, my stomach dropping.
By the stars, we will have to deal with this situation also.
After a rousing speech about the need to secure the territory near the rim of the mountains until we are able to find the solution to again leaving, Damin explains about the work team idea in greater detail. There will be two to four teams for each task, in order to cover more ground in the same time frame.
Please, he says, come to the table for your task, so we may record your name and with which team you will be. This way we can keep track of who is where in the event something happens. He does not explain what that ‘something’ is, but folk use their imaginations and no one speaks against it.
Studying him, I realise Damin has the kind of presence people trust. If they know why he summons them individually, trust will evaporate.
It begins. The task list is long and the line of people is endless. Damin sits behind a makeshift table with a scribe’s tools before him and looks up at a man or woman, asks for a name, then records it in one of two places. He has a smile for everyone, but his tension is evident in a ticking jaw. He has not revealed to us what he sees, but it is clear the images are overwhelming.
When a team comprises of twelve members, he sends them to Kay. The westerner hands to them tools they will need. Each team is then sent on its way.
Watching all this, I understand it will be days before all are marked as either Glonu or Ilfin, days before they are separated north and south. We do not have that kind of time and yet it must be done. The next issue is how to summon Glonu to the barrier without raising suspicion …
Mirlin comes to rest at my shoulder, startling me. “Notice the difference in terrain,” the man murmurs. “South is rockier, has more obstacles, while the northern slope is smoother.”
Casting my gaze in both directions, I see his point. “He sends the Glonu south.”
“He makes it difficult for them to defend themselves,” Mirlin nods.
“Because he intends to go to battle with them.” Again I focus on Damin. The Marsh Devil. The man understands that the time wasted in separating this host will need to be recovered. He therefore plans for a mighty event, one that will be over swiftly. Diabolical, but smart. I agree with him. Lifting my gaze to Lyra further up, where she dispenses food for the day, I also understand she will not be pleased.
I need to have words with my sister soon.
“Horin, start marking the potential soldiers Damin sends north,” Mirlin says. “We will soon have need of them.”
My lips tighten, but I nod and Mirlin moves away. It seems I am not as forward-thinking as the others are. They have already understood what must come next, while I twiddle with my sword here, watching and wondering. Mirlin’s retreating form reminds me of his talent. One able to see in darkness. Blinking, I see it will be a night battle. Damin will use Mirlin to advantage. Diabolical … the mind of a general.
Lyra is waving at me. I make my way through gathering work teams to her side.
“Horin, will you tell Damin to add a search for clay as a task? We need to make more vessels.”
She barely looks at me, merely sending a fleeting smile. She has her hands full with dispensing stores. Around her is a host of children, all trying to help. I blink at the young ones, my stomach dropping.
By the stars, we will have to deal with this situation also.
January 22, 2016
The King's Challenge #177 and #178
TKC 177 and 178
Kay and Mirlin enter the clearing, both fixated on the holographic image. They are as wordless as Damin and Lyra have become.
“We have been skirting around this issue since the beginning of the march, have we not?” I state, watching them. “Back on the plateau you shared the Glonu/Ilfin tale, did you not, Mirlin?”
The older man lifts his head. “You were not yet with us for that.”
“I am aware, but young Horin dreamed it.” I inhale deeply. “My point is this; the markers were there for us from the start. The walk across the plains should have deterred us from ever entering here, a final obstacle, and yet we ignored everything shown us, such as talents suddenly springing forth, and everything shared via old legends. We came anyway.”
“We did not know what Arc is,” Lyra frowns.
“So we entered blind and ignorant?” I demand. “I think not.”
“We would have died out there, Horin,” Damin rasps. “That rock in the sky was about to annihilate us. We needed this haven and therefore we marched. All else was unimportant.”
“You suggest it was fate that brought us,” Kay sighs.
“Destiny,” I say. “The asteroid was but a prompt; it got us moving. Maybe it would have killed us, but perhaps that would have been a kinder fate. On the other hand, we have something in our favour. The asteroid got us moving, yes, but it shoved us into action before Arc was ready for us. We, in fact, still have the element of surprise.”
Damin frowns as he wraps his mind around the nuances. He points at the shifting image before us. “They were coming anyway.” He lifts his gaze from the ethereal fleet to me. “This is why the talents sprang forth. Although it is in answer to a threat from space, the asteroid was not the real threat.”
“On the mark,” I murmur, impressed with his deductive powers.
“Thus our talents would have prompted a march on Arc anyway,” Lyra says. “Destiny.”
“Indeed, but now we have the issue of innocents and that is a problem for us. We brought too few soldiers and too many famers and trades people. It divides our attention.”
“Wait,” Kay mutters, stepping closer to the image to peer in. “The fiery threat brought us from both west and east, which I assume will have happened whatever the prompting device. What about the two kinds?” He inserts a finger into the image and yelps when it sparks, swiftly withdrawing.
Smiling wryly over our ever-present curiousness, I respond, “Both were summoned. We have not forced this current dilemma upon ourselves.”
“How many?” Lyra demands, gesturing at the ships.
“Many. I have no number.”
“And where are the Ilfin?” she continues.
I gesture at the orb and the image clouds briefly. Another shivers into our presence. More spaceships, but of a different design. “They are coming also.”
Mirlin releases a pent-up breath. “All-out war for Massin.”
“Therefore death by asteroid would have been kinder,” Damin mutters.
“How far behind are the Ilfin?” Lyra asks, delving into the practical issues rather than her fear … our fears.
“Too far to prevent the Glonu from landing.” I anticipate her next question. “The Glonu fleet will be here in less than ten days.”
Damin smacks his palms together. “Then we need to get moving. First we release all Ilfin from Arc …”
“That means sacrifice, Damin!” Lyra snaps out.
“I no longer see it that way. The Glonu here will join the Glonu on approach, for they are called to this battle as we are called to defend. The more we weed out now, the less we will have to fight later.”
“Damin is right,” I affirm. “We use the Glonu herr to free the Ilfin from Arc, whatever our conscience tells us. And then we take the Spire down.”
Kay and Mirlin enter the clearing, both fixated on the holographic image. They are as wordless as Damin and Lyra have become.
“We have been skirting around this issue since the beginning of the march, have we not?” I state, watching them. “Back on the plateau you shared the Glonu/Ilfin tale, did you not, Mirlin?”
The older man lifts his head. “You were not yet with us for that.”
“I am aware, but young Horin dreamed it.” I inhale deeply. “My point is this; the markers were there for us from the start. The walk across the plains should have deterred us from ever entering here, a final obstacle, and yet we ignored everything shown us, such as talents suddenly springing forth, and everything shared via old legends. We came anyway.”
“We did not know what Arc is,” Lyra frowns.
“So we entered blind and ignorant?” I demand. “I think not.”
“We would have died out there, Horin,” Damin rasps. “That rock in the sky was about to annihilate us. We needed this haven and therefore we marched. All else was unimportant.”
“You suggest it was fate that brought us,” Kay sighs.
“Destiny,” I say. “The asteroid was but a prompt; it got us moving. Maybe it would have killed us, but perhaps that would have been a kinder fate. On the other hand, we have something in our favour. The asteroid got us moving, yes, but it shoved us into action before Arc was ready for us. We, in fact, still have the element of surprise.”
Damin frowns as he wraps his mind around the nuances. He points at the shifting image before us. “They were coming anyway.” He lifts his gaze from the ethereal fleet to me. “This is why the talents sprang forth. Although it is in answer to a threat from space, the asteroid was not the real threat.”
“On the mark,” I murmur, impressed with his deductive powers.
“Thus our talents would have prompted a march on Arc anyway,” Lyra says. “Destiny.”
“Indeed, but now we have the issue of innocents and that is a problem for us. We brought too few soldiers and too many famers and trades people. It divides our attention.”
“Wait,” Kay mutters, stepping closer to the image to peer in. “The fiery threat brought us from both west and east, which I assume will have happened whatever the prompting device. What about the two kinds?” He inserts a finger into the image and yelps when it sparks, swiftly withdrawing.
Smiling wryly over our ever-present curiousness, I respond, “Both were summoned. We have not forced this current dilemma upon ourselves.”
“How many?” Lyra demands, gesturing at the ships.
“Many. I have no number.”
“And where are the Ilfin?” she continues.
I gesture at the orb and the image clouds briefly. Another shivers into our presence. More spaceships, but of a different design. “They are coming also.”
Mirlin releases a pent-up breath. “All-out war for Massin.”
“Therefore death by asteroid would have been kinder,” Damin mutters.
“How far behind are the Ilfin?” Lyra asks, delving into the practical issues rather than her fear … our fears.
“Too far to prevent the Glonu from landing.” I anticipate her next question. “The Glonu fleet will be here in less than ten days.”
Damin smacks his palms together. “Then we need to get moving. First we release all Ilfin from Arc …”
“That means sacrifice, Damin!” Lyra snaps out.
“I no longer see it that way. The Glonu here will join the Glonu on approach, for they are called to this battle as we are called to defend. The more we weed out now, the less we will have to fight later.”
“Damin is right,” I affirm. “We use the Glonu herr to free the Ilfin from Arc, whatever our conscience tells us. And then we take the Spire down.”
Notes on The King's Challenge (January update)
Hello, everyone!
You may have noticed daily episodes are two at a time recently. Due to the season break, I needed to catch up on missing episodes and therefore doubled up a few times, discovering in the process it is easier to write 600 words than it is to curtail myself to 300! Honestly, though, I want to see where this story will end – yes, impatience sets in. I need to finish it!
Of course, sometimes there will be less time available to me, and a 300 word episode will be posted J
Having squinted through some of the story as I format it into one document, I realise there are extras I will be adding in when the edit process commences, such as more description of both place and people. Also more pointers to the greater story will be inserted earlier in order for the whole to make sense. At this stage, we are getting the story down – the bling comes later!
The edit begins to prompt in the back of my mind, however. I am writing and posting this challenge in First Person Present, but this may change. Maybe. I begin to feel Third Person … maybe. My point is, the final book may be somewhat different …
Last in this session of notes, is NAME.
What will we call it? I have a few ideas, but not yet one that stands out for me – any suggestions?
Thanks for reading!
Elaina
January 21, 2016
The King's Challenge #175 and #176
TKC 175 and 176
Lyra is inconsolable. Attis means much to her. In a manner I do not fathom, Attis became me, her little brother Horin, to her.
“How will he cope alone out there?” Lyra wails as Damin attempts to calm her. She shoves his questing hands aside. “He is just a boy!”
Abruptly I have had my fill. While I do not desire to hurt my sister, reality is reality, and she needs to hear it without delay. “Lyra, Attis will survive out there, I swear it to you.”
Clearly my tone arrests her emotional outburst, for she stares at me. “And how can you know that?”
I step forward and Damin watches me warily. I ignore him. He will understand. “Attis is now marked by Arc. He is a Glonu who has seen and heard and knows. Young he may be, but he need no longer fear death out there. In fact, I will wager his youth will draw others to him.”
“Marked how?” Lyra whispers.
“His presence. It isn’t a physical mark.” I saw his ‘presence’ up on the mountain when Attis realised who he was. Knowledge flooded into his eyes, his spine straightened, and utter confidence overcame him. It set him apart from others of his age; hell, it will set him apart in a gathering of adults. Glonu will flock to him, while Ilfin will know to avoid him.
“You think he is dangerous,” Damin mutters.
“Not today, not too soon, but one day he will be part of an army. I hazard the boy will vanish until that time arrives, for someone will see his potential and protect him, hide him somewhere.”
“Glonu, you mean,” Lyra snaps out.
I incline my head. “Glonu, yes. To prevent that future from ever coming to pass …”
“Arc must fall,” Damin states.
“Indeed.”
Lyra glares then at both of us. “We are meant to escape! To save our souls from the slavery in place here! And now you actually suggest a war in this place?”
Damin lowers to a boulder situated in the clearing we have gathered in. We are well away from other ears. “A small unit. Most must leave, yes, but a small unit must remain … to march on the Spire.”
Damin can be relied on to understand the nuances indeed. “Yes,” I murmur.
“Count me in,” the fair man states.
Of course he is. “I already have.” He huffs, but sends a grin my way.
“Wait just a damn minute,” Lyra says in her soft voice, the one that signifies danger. The wise will run when they hear her assume this tone. Neither Damin nor I can claim wisdom, however. We wait for her words, glancing at each other. “Everything we discuss is heard. You do understand that?”
Less bite than I expected. I shrug. “I want them to know we will come for them.”
“Ah.” Lyra lifts a finger, and I brace myself. “You know nothing of the Spire, Horin. It is the greatest trap present inside Arc! It will take everything we are!” Twin spots of colour adorn her cheeks. “We did not undertake this mission to a sanctuary to die inside it! I refuse to lose you and Damin to …”
I muscle forward. “… to what, Lyra? We are dead no matter which way you look at this situation!”
“Hey!” Damin growls.
It is time to cease being accommodating. Growling also, I snap my fingers for the orb and throw it at the ground. “Look!”
A hologram erupts into the clearing. Ghostly spaceships fly through the spaces. It is a massive fleet.
“They are coming,” I whisper then.
Lyra is inconsolable. Attis means much to her. In a manner I do not fathom, Attis became me, her little brother Horin, to her.
“How will he cope alone out there?” Lyra wails as Damin attempts to calm her. She shoves his questing hands aside. “He is just a boy!”
Abruptly I have had my fill. While I do not desire to hurt my sister, reality is reality, and she needs to hear it without delay. “Lyra, Attis will survive out there, I swear it to you.”
Clearly my tone arrests her emotional outburst, for she stares at me. “And how can you know that?”
I step forward and Damin watches me warily. I ignore him. He will understand. “Attis is now marked by Arc. He is a Glonu who has seen and heard and knows. Young he may be, but he need no longer fear death out there. In fact, I will wager his youth will draw others to him.”
“Marked how?” Lyra whispers.
“His presence. It isn’t a physical mark.” I saw his ‘presence’ up on the mountain when Attis realised who he was. Knowledge flooded into his eyes, his spine straightened, and utter confidence overcame him. It set him apart from others of his age; hell, it will set him apart in a gathering of adults. Glonu will flock to him, while Ilfin will know to avoid him.
“You think he is dangerous,” Damin mutters.
“Not today, not too soon, but one day he will be part of an army. I hazard the boy will vanish until that time arrives, for someone will see his potential and protect him, hide him somewhere.”
“Glonu, you mean,” Lyra snaps out.
I incline my head. “Glonu, yes. To prevent that future from ever coming to pass …”
“Arc must fall,” Damin states.
“Indeed.”
Lyra glares then at both of us. “We are meant to escape! To save our souls from the slavery in place here! And now you actually suggest a war in this place?”
Damin lowers to a boulder situated in the clearing we have gathered in. We are well away from other ears. “A small unit. Most must leave, yes, but a small unit must remain … to march on the Spire.”
Damin can be relied on to understand the nuances indeed. “Yes,” I murmur.
“Count me in,” the fair man states.
Of course he is. “I already have.” He huffs, but sends a grin my way.
“Wait just a damn minute,” Lyra says in her soft voice, the one that signifies danger. The wise will run when they hear her assume this tone. Neither Damin nor I can claim wisdom, however. We wait for her words, glancing at each other. “Everything we discuss is heard. You do understand that?”
Less bite than I expected. I shrug. “I want them to know we will come for them.”
“Ah.” Lyra lifts a finger, and I brace myself. “You know nothing of the Spire, Horin. It is the greatest trap present inside Arc! It will take everything we are!” Twin spots of colour adorn her cheeks. “We did not undertake this mission to a sanctuary to die inside it! I refuse to lose you and Damin to …”
I muscle forward. “… to what, Lyra? We are dead no matter which way you look at this situation!”
“Hey!” Damin growls.
It is time to cease being accommodating. Growling also, I snap my fingers for the orb and throw it at the ground. “Look!”
A hologram erupts into the clearing. Ghostly spaceships fly through the spaces. It is a massive fleet.
“They are coming,” I whisper then.
Review - The Sanctuary Series (Boxset 1 -3)
See also my review for Sanctuary: Defender in the Quest Review posted on Writing World
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PS: The Sanctuary Series boxset is currently FREE :)
January 20, 2016
Who were you in a Past Life?
Respected Witch in the Renaissance!
The King's Challenge #173 and #174
TKC 173 and 174
As the orb slaps back into my hand the red dome vanishes. Thus, the shield is in place, but we cannot see it.
No one says a word for some minutes, until Kay murmurs, “Someone still needs to test what it does.”
“Well, I am not putting even a finger into that,” Manuel grumbles.
“I will do it,” I state and move forward.
Kay shakes his head. “Horin, it will prove nothing. You are different to the rest of us.” He strides boldly forward …
… and Manuel tackles him to earth. “Do not be stupid, brother.” Manuel sits on him, glaring down. “It will probably kill you.”
Kay shoves him off to rise in titanic fury. “Don’t tell me what to do!”
“I will!” Manuel hollers. “You always do the crazy stuff; I know you, remember? This is beyond crazy and I won’t lose you to your stupid bravery!”
Kay’s expression clears of every emotion. “Fine.”
I almost laugh when Manuel’s mouth drops open in astonishment. Almost, for I understand Kay is at the point he may reveal something he should not at this stage let loose.
“Fine?” Manuel echoes. “Really?”
Swiftly I intervene. “We need a warm-blooded animal.” Both men jerk their heads in my direction. “To test the barrier; what did you think I meant? A rabbit, or something to that effect.”
“Actually, that is a brilliant plan,” Manuel sighs in relief, “and I know where to find what we need. Wait here.” He strides away into the darkness.
Kay stares at me. “I will not be able to hide what I know from him.”
I nod, well aware of his difficulties. “Then one of you needs to join a work detail that takes you away for a time.”
A sigh sounds. “Again, a brilliant plan. You are full of ideas tonight, aren’t you?” A shrug follows. “There’s a team preparing for tree felling …”
“First ask Damin what the team is before joining,” I warn. “It may have to be Manuel who goes.”
Another sigh erupts and then silence overtakes us.
We wait for Manuel to return and he does within a few minutes, holding aloft a mole. “I noticed dirt piles a few days ago,” he grins.
“Man, I am loath to send even that little creature into the barrier,” Kay whispers.
“It must be done,” I state and take the mole from Manuel. Carefully approaching, I place the tiny animal on the ground, pointing its snout towards the invisible shield. It does not move, and I am forced to prod it forward. It shuffles a bit and stops. Muttering, I urge it to move.
The mole crawls forward … and passes through without harm befalling it. For the briefest instant the shield sparks, and yet the mole passes through unmolested.
“What the hell does that signify?” Manuel demands, watching the tiny creature shuffle away into the darkness beyond.
“No soul, therefore no threat,” Kay murmurs.
I nod. “I am afraid so. Thus we still have no idea what this barrier will do to us.”
“You passed through before,” Kay points out.
“I was already dead,” I mutter.
“But what did you feel?” he insists.
“Nothing. I was dead, idiot.”
“I will test it,” a new voice says. A young voice. As we turn to see who it is, Attis is already striding past us.
“Attis, no!” I shout.
But it is too late. Attis walks without stopping into the barrier. It sparks and shimmers and an eerie wail – low, almost below the edge of hearing – fills the region.
The lad passes through and halts. For a long moment he is motionless, staring outward, and then he turns.
“I see,” he says. “I am a Glonu. And this Glonu is now free.”
Swiftly he vanishes then over the rim.
As the orb slaps back into my hand the red dome vanishes. Thus, the shield is in place, but we cannot see it.
No one says a word for some minutes, until Kay murmurs, “Someone still needs to test what it does.”
“Well, I am not putting even a finger into that,” Manuel grumbles.
“I will do it,” I state and move forward.
Kay shakes his head. “Horin, it will prove nothing. You are different to the rest of us.” He strides boldly forward …
… and Manuel tackles him to earth. “Do not be stupid, brother.” Manuel sits on him, glaring down. “It will probably kill you.”
Kay shoves him off to rise in titanic fury. “Don’t tell me what to do!”
“I will!” Manuel hollers. “You always do the crazy stuff; I know you, remember? This is beyond crazy and I won’t lose you to your stupid bravery!”
Kay’s expression clears of every emotion. “Fine.”
I almost laugh when Manuel’s mouth drops open in astonishment. Almost, for I understand Kay is at the point he may reveal something he should not at this stage let loose.
“Fine?” Manuel echoes. “Really?”
Swiftly I intervene. “We need a warm-blooded animal.” Both men jerk their heads in my direction. “To test the barrier; what did you think I meant? A rabbit, or something to that effect.”
“Actually, that is a brilliant plan,” Manuel sighs in relief, “and I know where to find what we need. Wait here.” He strides away into the darkness.
Kay stares at me. “I will not be able to hide what I know from him.”
I nod, well aware of his difficulties. “Then one of you needs to join a work detail that takes you away for a time.”
A sigh sounds. “Again, a brilliant plan. You are full of ideas tonight, aren’t you?” A shrug follows. “There’s a team preparing for tree felling …”
“First ask Damin what the team is before joining,” I warn. “It may have to be Manuel who goes.”
Another sigh erupts and then silence overtakes us.
We wait for Manuel to return and he does within a few minutes, holding aloft a mole. “I noticed dirt piles a few days ago,” he grins.
“Man, I am loath to send even that little creature into the barrier,” Kay whispers.
“It must be done,” I state and take the mole from Manuel. Carefully approaching, I place the tiny animal on the ground, pointing its snout towards the invisible shield. It does not move, and I am forced to prod it forward. It shuffles a bit and stops. Muttering, I urge it to move.
The mole crawls forward … and passes through without harm befalling it. For the briefest instant the shield sparks, and yet the mole passes through unmolested.
“What the hell does that signify?” Manuel demands, watching the tiny creature shuffle away into the darkness beyond.
“No soul, therefore no threat,” Kay murmurs.
I nod. “I am afraid so. Thus we still have no idea what this barrier will do to us.”
“You passed through before,” Kay points out.
“I was already dead,” I mutter.
“But what did you feel?” he insists.
“Nothing. I was dead, idiot.”
“I will test it,” a new voice says. A young voice. As we turn to see who it is, Attis is already striding past us.
“Attis, no!” I shout.
But it is too late. Attis walks without stopping into the barrier. It sparks and shimmers and an eerie wail – low, almost below the edge of hearing – fills the region.
The lad passes through and halts. For a long moment he is motionless, staring outward, and then he turns.
“I see,” he says. “I am a Glonu. And this Glonu is now free.”
Swiftly he vanishes then over the rim.
