Elaina J. Davidson's Blog, page 366
January 20, 2016
January 18, 2016
The King's Challenge #171 and #172
TKC 171 and 172
By evening Manuel has his list of tasks prepared and Mirlin has announced the intention to create work teams. Many groan, but none speak against it. All understand the need to get matters organised.
Hunkering beside Mirlin’s fire again, I watch Manuel. He moves about the rocky space with a smile and never seems frustrated. Clearly he possesses a positive attitude to life. I like the man, which makes it all the harder to accept him as an enemy.
Kay has not again put in an appearance. I wonder if it concerns Manuel; after Mirlin left the west for the plateau, Kay and Manuel were ever together and they led the westerners across the plains as a team.
The man is not stupid either and that is borne out when he suddenly swings around to catch me watching him.
“Why have you not attempted to cross back into Massin?” he demands.
My eyebrows hike up. Manuel has a point. Why have I not? Are we so certain the barrier is there that we simply accept its presence? Staring at him, I say, “I guess fear has held me back.”
Manuel nodded. “It holds all in check, but we should test this invisible shield.”
“I agree.” Abruptly I am impatient. Standing, I gaze at the man. “Care to try with me?”
“Now?”
“Darkness will hide our failure, if that is the way of it.”
Manuel grins. “Let’s do it.” He grabs water and two of the flat breads delivered to the cave earlier and shoves the haul into a knapsack. Lifting his weapon – an ornate dagger – he hooks it to his belt. “Shall we?’
Admiring the man’s sense of adventure, I laugh and precede him out into the night.
Half an hour later we are at the point where the ascent flattens to a level area. This is where we entered Arc. Both of us regard the well-trodden path dubiously. We are out of breath from the climb, and now bravado reveals itself. We are not as prepared to test the barrier as we thought.
A whistle off to the side startles us. Weapons are instantly to hand.
Kay emerges from behind a jumble of rocks and stands arms akimbo to eye us. “One can floor the two of you merely with sound, it seems.”
Manuel splutters into laughter. “Bugger off. Why are you here?”
“Same reason as you, I suspect, but I chickened out.” Kay shrugs. “Thought I’d wait until someone else arrives.”
His features remain in darkness and perhaps that is for the best. Manuel cannot read his friend’s expressions. I step forward …
“No, Horin,” Kay murmurs. “Do not quest for the barrier using your body. Establish its presence first.”
Use the orb, is what he means, and he is on the mark. Bravado is making me stupid. Taking a breath, I flex my fingers and swiftly the green sphere dances on my palm. Exhaling and inhaling again, I calm myself and tell it what it is I seek from it.
The orb lifts and bobs forward, following the path to the rim.
We follow, every set of eyes fixated and fascinated.
After about ten steps, it halts and we do as well. The glowing ball goes up, then down, and back to eye level. From there it moves left, then to the right before returning to its stationary position.
We do not move even an eyelid.
Abruptly the orb elongates to become a spike. It retreats from position, halts again, and then hurtles forward as if to pierce something at great speed.
“Sands,” Kay mutters.
Manuel is dead quiet, his jaw gaping.
A hiss of sound has us grabbing our ears. And then the heavens over Arc are no longer star-filled. A scarlet dome shudders into being.
By evening Manuel has his list of tasks prepared and Mirlin has announced the intention to create work teams. Many groan, but none speak against it. All understand the need to get matters organised.
Hunkering beside Mirlin’s fire again, I watch Manuel. He moves about the rocky space with a smile and never seems frustrated. Clearly he possesses a positive attitude to life. I like the man, which makes it all the harder to accept him as an enemy.
Kay has not again put in an appearance. I wonder if it concerns Manuel; after Mirlin left the west for the plateau, Kay and Manuel were ever together and they led the westerners across the plains as a team.
The man is not stupid either and that is borne out when he suddenly swings around to catch me watching him.
“Why have you not attempted to cross back into Massin?” he demands.
My eyebrows hike up. Manuel has a point. Why have I not? Are we so certain the barrier is there that we simply accept its presence? Staring at him, I say, “I guess fear has held me back.”
Manuel nodded. “It holds all in check, but we should test this invisible shield.”
“I agree.” Abruptly I am impatient. Standing, I gaze at the man. “Care to try with me?”
“Now?”
“Darkness will hide our failure, if that is the way of it.”
Manuel grins. “Let’s do it.” He grabs water and two of the flat breads delivered to the cave earlier and shoves the haul into a knapsack. Lifting his weapon – an ornate dagger – he hooks it to his belt. “Shall we?’
Admiring the man’s sense of adventure, I laugh and precede him out into the night.
Half an hour later we are at the point where the ascent flattens to a level area. This is where we entered Arc. Both of us regard the well-trodden path dubiously. We are out of breath from the climb, and now bravado reveals itself. We are not as prepared to test the barrier as we thought.
A whistle off to the side startles us. Weapons are instantly to hand.
Kay emerges from behind a jumble of rocks and stands arms akimbo to eye us. “One can floor the two of you merely with sound, it seems.”
Manuel splutters into laughter. “Bugger off. Why are you here?”
“Same reason as you, I suspect, but I chickened out.” Kay shrugs. “Thought I’d wait until someone else arrives.”
His features remain in darkness and perhaps that is for the best. Manuel cannot read his friend’s expressions. I step forward …
“No, Horin,” Kay murmurs. “Do not quest for the barrier using your body. Establish its presence first.”
Use the orb, is what he means, and he is on the mark. Bravado is making me stupid. Taking a breath, I flex my fingers and swiftly the green sphere dances on my palm. Exhaling and inhaling again, I calm myself and tell it what it is I seek from it.
The orb lifts and bobs forward, following the path to the rim.
We follow, every set of eyes fixated and fascinated.
After about ten steps, it halts and we do as well. The glowing ball goes up, then down, and back to eye level. From there it moves left, then to the right before returning to its stationary position.
We do not move even an eyelid.
Abruptly the orb elongates to become a spike. It retreats from position, halts again, and then hurtles forward as if to pierce something at great speed.
“Sands,” Kay mutters.
Manuel is dead quiet, his jaw gaping.
A hiss of sound has us grabbing our ears. And then the heavens over Arc are no longer star-filled. A scarlet dome shudders into being.
January 17, 2016
98 000+!
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January 16, 2016
January 15, 2016
The King's Challenge #169 and #170
TKC 169 and 170
Kay leaves before Manuel returns to the cave, afraid he will give it away. Damin absconds as well with Lyra and Siri, but theirs is a search for sunshine. Joseph and Hanna left with first light to join the Messengers and share news. I find myself hoping every Messenger is also an Ilfin, for their services and skills will be needed again beyond these mountains.
Thus it is only Mirlin and I at the breakfast fire when Manuel enters.
The man comes in boldly, all smiles, his curly hair in disarray. “Man, those kids demanded tale after tale! The plateau kids wanted stories of the ocean, while the western ones demanded secrets of the mountains … not that I know any of those!” He laughs. “I prevailed on them to tell tales to each other and ended up entranced myself.”
He squats at the fire and sends me a look, before shifting his gaze to Mirlin. Perhaps he senses something; he definitely marks our silence.
“What is wrong?” he demands.
“Exhausted,” Mirlin mutters. “Got no sleep.”
“We were attacked,” I say by way of explanation. “We think Arc is beginning to change people.”
Manuel shakes his head. “I have noticed underlying aggression as well. What happened?”
I offer a shrug. “We were forced to defend ourselves.”
“This was meant to be a place of safety, by the sands,” Manuel mutters. “What do we do to prevent it spreading, this aggression?”
Mirlin heaves a sigh. “I am thinking we put everyone to work.”
“Keep them busy? That’s not a bad idea.” The westerner nods as he thinks it through. “Wood gathering teams, water fetchers, foraging parties, hunters, and those who can make camp life more comfortable should be detailed to organise laundry, set up shelters and so forth. Yes, it can work for us in many ways.”
“Will you make a list?” Mirlin asks. “I need an hour or two in dreamland first.”
Manuel grins. “Leave it with me.” He rises and heads out. “I’ll grab a bite at another fire.”
In the silence after, Mirlin says, “The frantic activity will distract him.”
“I agree.” I watch Mirlin expectantly. He does not disappoint.
“I am concerned, Horin. The Warrior talent eventually kills the host. We need you alive.” His tone is soft, but it is also determined.
“I still have time enough, have no fear.”
“How long?”
I look away. His intensity is now unsettling. “It depend on how often I wield my sword.”
“Not the orb?”
Reluctantly I admit, “The orb too.”
“You have used it frequently. How long, Horin?”
“A year at most,” I respond. “Ever stronger and larger … until the day my time comes to an end. In the moment of my death I will diminish back to the boy.”
“The boy Horin dies, but it is not your end, am I right?”
“No.”
“You are, in fact, an immortal.”
I glare at him. “It helps me none. As a soul I am unable to do much, except await a new birth.”
Now Mirlin is the one staring. “I have read much. Some of it pretty damn old. If I read it right, there is a way to prevent the diminish cycle. The lady Lyra can do this, for she possesses all the talents, does she not? Including Warrior. If she …”
“I cannot place this burden on her,” I interrupt angrily. By the stars, will the man keep quiet? The moment Lyra accesses her dormant Warrior, she too will transform. My beautiful sister will become someone else.
Mirlin spreads his hands. “I am merely pointing out your options.”
“Why?” I growl.
“We need you, Lord Makar. We both know, with a host of Glonu now in creation here, the shudders will summon others from the stars.”
Kay leaves before Manuel returns to the cave, afraid he will give it away. Damin absconds as well with Lyra and Siri, but theirs is a search for sunshine. Joseph and Hanna left with first light to join the Messengers and share news. I find myself hoping every Messenger is also an Ilfin, for their services and skills will be needed again beyond these mountains.
Thus it is only Mirlin and I at the breakfast fire when Manuel enters.
The man comes in boldly, all smiles, his curly hair in disarray. “Man, those kids demanded tale after tale! The plateau kids wanted stories of the ocean, while the western ones demanded secrets of the mountains … not that I know any of those!” He laughs. “I prevailed on them to tell tales to each other and ended up entranced myself.”
He squats at the fire and sends me a look, before shifting his gaze to Mirlin. Perhaps he senses something; he definitely marks our silence.
“What is wrong?” he demands.
“Exhausted,” Mirlin mutters. “Got no sleep.”
“We were attacked,” I say by way of explanation. “We think Arc is beginning to change people.”
Manuel shakes his head. “I have noticed underlying aggression as well. What happened?”
I offer a shrug. “We were forced to defend ourselves.”
“This was meant to be a place of safety, by the sands,” Manuel mutters. “What do we do to prevent it spreading, this aggression?”
Mirlin heaves a sigh. “I am thinking we put everyone to work.”
“Keep them busy? That’s not a bad idea.” The westerner nods as he thinks it through. “Wood gathering teams, water fetchers, foraging parties, hunters, and those who can make camp life more comfortable should be detailed to organise laundry, set up shelters and so forth. Yes, it can work for us in many ways.”
“Will you make a list?” Mirlin asks. “I need an hour or two in dreamland first.”
Manuel grins. “Leave it with me.” He rises and heads out. “I’ll grab a bite at another fire.”
In the silence after, Mirlin says, “The frantic activity will distract him.”
“I agree.” I watch Mirlin expectantly. He does not disappoint.
“I am concerned, Horin. The Warrior talent eventually kills the host. We need you alive.” His tone is soft, but it is also determined.
“I still have time enough, have no fear.”
“How long?”
I look away. His intensity is now unsettling. “It depend on how often I wield my sword.”
“Not the orb?”
Reluctantly I admit, “The orb too.”
“You have used it frequently. How long, Horin?”
“A year at most,” I respond. “Ever stronger and larger … until the day my time comes to an end. In the moment of my death I will diminish back to the boy.”
“The boy Horin dies, but it is not your end, am I right?”
“No.”
“You are, in fact, an immortal.”
I glare at him. “It helps me none. As a soul I am unable to do much, except await a new birth.”
Now Mirlin is the one staring. “I have read much. Some of it pretty damn old. If I read it right, there is a way to prevent the diminish cycle. The lady Lyra can do this, for she possesses all the talents, does she not? Including Warrior. If she …”
“I cannot place this burden on her,” I interrupt angrily. By the stars, will the man keep quiet? The moment Lyra accesses her dormant Warrior, she too will transform. My beautiful sister will become someone else.
Mirlin spreads his hands. “I am merely pointing out your options.”
“Why?” I growl.
“We need you, Lord Makar. We both know, with a host of Glonu now in creation here, the shudders will summon others from the stars.”
The King's Challenge #167 and #168
TKC 167 and 168
It degenerates into a confrontation of epic proportion.
The moment Damin reveals to us – Ilfin together in a cave where no one will overhear – that he knows how to tell the two bloodlines apart and that Manuel and Attis cannot be privy to our strategies, chaos ensues.
Kay draws his sword on Damin, I draw mine on him, Lyra screams for calm, and Siri shoves Mirlin out the way when he hurtles into the fray.
Soon every voice is raised, mine included, and thus no one hears another.
Weapons quiver in shaking hands.
By the stars, we are about to do what the Glonu want of us.
Swearing foully, I see the danger … and drop my weapon. Summoning the orb to me, I throw it up. It bounces upon the rough rock ceiling and shatters. Slivers of eerie green light suffuses everything.
Silence comes then. Motionlessness. The light dissipates.
Heaving, I manage to utter, “Cease. The enemy is out there, not inside with us.”
One by one weapons hit the stone floor. “Horin is right,” Lyra says in a voice hoarse from shouting. “It is hard to have a friend revealed as an enemy, but this is what Arc does. Let us listen to each other.”
Damin crouches, his head in his hands. He groans. “How did this happen to us?”
“The Ancients continue to play their games,” Mirlin growls. He sends me a speculative look. “I suspect you are one of those old ones.” When I do not reply, he throws his hands up. “Bloody knew it.”
“I will not accept this!” Kay roars. “Manuel is a good man, my brother, your brother, Mirlin. We have done everything together!”
Mirlin closes his eyes and slowly lowers to sit with his head cradled. On opposites sides of the cave, he and Damin mirror each other. Then, “Kay, that past is no longer with us.”
“How can you say that?” Kay shouts.
Damin lifts his head. “Because it is true.”
In that moment the westerner’s legs seem to lose all strength. He crumbles down to sit untidily, staring into space.
Lyra gazes around. “Someone needs to head Manuel off. He will be back soon. He will read what we know in our expressions.”
“I will do it,” Siri says quietly, and swiftly heads into the darkness.
“Attis, Damin?” Lyra asks then. “Are you sure?”
The fair man nods without speaking, an expression of sorrow upon his face.
Mirlin smacks at the ground. Everyone flinches. “Is there something we can do to change this fate?”
And thus we start talking as sane beings. No one sleeps this night, for the hours fill with suggestions, explanations, supposition and discussion. As dawn heralds its way into our thoughts, we have no new answers, but we have accepted.
Manuel does not return, but Siri enters with the sun’s first rays bearing an urn of fresh water. “Manuel told the children stories,” she tells us, “and fell asleep at their fire.”
Kay threads a hand through his hair and accepts the urn from her. “Thank you. You are a good friend.” Lifting the vessel, he drinks long before passing it to Damin.
“What do we do now?” Lyra asks.
I stand to stretch. “We separate Glonu and Ilfin.”
“How, without causing panic?” Lyra snaps out.
Mirlin clambers wearily to his feet. “Work detail. We give groups certain tasks and send them in directions to separate us from them.” Accepting the urn from Lyra, he drinks and then adds, “It will be difficult to organise, but it will mean less questions.”
“What about the kids?” Siri demands. “They don’t deserve any of this.”
It degenerates into a confrontation of epic proportion.
The moment Damin reveals to us – Ilfin together in a cave where no one will overhear – that he knows how to tell the two bloodlines apart and that Manuel and Attis cannot be privy to our strategies, chaos ensues.
Kay draws his sword on Damin, I draw mine on him, Lyra screams for calm, and Siri shoves Mirlin out the way when he hurtles into the fray.
Soon every voice is raised, mine included, and thus no one hears another.
Weapons quiver in shaking hands.
By the stars, we are about to do what the Glonu want of us.
Swearing foully, I see the danger … and drop my weapon. Summoning the orb to me, I throw it up. It bounces upon the rough rock ceiling and shatters. Slivers of eerie green light suffuses everything.
Silence comes then. Motionlessness. The light dissipates.
Heaving, I manage to utter, “Cease. The enemy is out there, not inside with us.”
One by one weapons hit the stone floor. “Horin is right,” Lyra says in a voice hoarse from shouting. “It is hard to have a friend revealed as an enemy, but this is what Arc does. Let us listen to each other.”
Damin crouches, his head in his hands. He groans. “How did this happen to us?”
“The Ancients continue to play their games,” Mirlin growls. He sends me a speculative look. “I suspect you are one of those old ones.” When I do not reply, he throws his hands up. “Bloody knew it.”
“I will not accept this!” Kay roars. “Manuel is a good man, my brother, your brother, Mirlin. We have done everything together!”
Mirlin closes his eyes and slowly lowers to sit with his head cradled. On opposites sides of the cave, he and Damin mirror each other. Then, “Kay, that past is no longer with us.”
“How can you say that?” Kay shouts.
Damin lifts his head. “Because it is true.”
In that moment the westerner’s legs seem to lose all strength. He crumbles down to sit untidily, staring into space.
Lyra gazes around. “Someone needs to head Manuel off. He will be back soon. He will read what we know in our expressions.”
“I will do it,” Siri says quietly, and swiftly heads into the darkness.
“Attis, Damin?” Lyra asks then. “Are you sure?”
The fair man nods without speaking, an expression of sorrow upon his face.
Mirlin smacks at the ground. Everyone flinches. “Is there something we can do to change this fate?”
And thus we start talking as sane beings. No one sleeps this night, for the hours fill with suggestions, explanations, supposition and discussion. As dawn heralds its way into our thoughts, we have no new answers, but we have accepted.
Manuel does not return, but Siri enters with the sun’s first rays bearing an urn of fresh water. “Manuel told the children stories,” she tells us, “and fell asleep at their fire.”
Kay threads a hand through his hair and accepts the urn from her. “Thank you. You are a good friend.” Lifting the vessel, he drinks long before passing it to Damin.
“What do we do now?” Lyra asks.
I stand to stretch. “We separate Glonu and Ilfin.”
“How, without causing panic?” Lyra snaps out.
Mirlin clambers wearily to his feet. “Work detail. We give groups certain tasks and send them in directions to separate us from them.” Accepting the urn from Lyra, he drinks and then adds, “It will be difficult to organise, but it will mean less questions.”
“What about the kids?” Siri demands. “They don’t deserve any of this.”
January 14, 2016
When you can't say F**K ...
Sometimes you are in the kind of gathering you can't say those words. What do you say instead (because you have to say something, don't you?)
I tend to say those words under my breath anyway, lol, or these below aloud. (It's not often where I am amid people who frown over my language, though!)
:)
I tend to say those words under my breath anyway, lol, or these below aloud. (It's not often where I am amid people who frown over my language, though!)
:)
