Elaina J. Davidson's Blog, page 367
January 14, 2016
The King's Challenge #165 and #166
TKC 165 and 166
With the arrival of daylight – a grey smudge – we ride for the rim. Fast, stopping twice to water the horses. Proof had arrived that Arc had commenced its campaign. We are out of time. Whatever we believe in and trust to no longer features; we need to do something before it escalates.
As night falls again, we see the lights of campfires, thousands of amber glows. The host is ahead. We do not stop, although we now walk our mounts to prevent them coming to injury in the darkness.
Two hours later we exit the treeline and there we come finally to a halt.
Seeing it like this, the host is larger than we realised. Fires dot the mountainside, glow from within caves and under overhangs, and nestle amid trees.
“By the stars, if the ancient Glonu succeed they will have a mighty army,” Damin states.
“Massin will be conquered,” Siri adds.
Lyra focuses on Damin. “Find Mirlin first. He is leader here.” The way she gazes at Damin reveals she prompts him to delve the man before making new decisions.
“And Manuel,” Kay puts in. “He too will know how it goes here.”
Attis, who has uttered barely a word since last night’s battle, but stuck to Lyra’s side throughout the day, stands in his stirrups and points. “There.”
The boy points at a fire higher than the others. We notice a few figures moving and throwing shadows on rock. It appears they are in the mouth of a cave.
I nudge my horse. “Slowly; we go slowly. Greet as we go, but say nothing until we are there.” I lead the way and the others fall in behind.
Carefully we wind through small gatherings around their fires. Some ignore us,; most call greeting of some kind. By the time we near the high fire, our progress to it is obvious to those gathered there.
Mirlin and Manuel together await us as we approach. Glancing at Damin, I notice his fixed expression, but say not a word.
“Harri,” Mirlin says as we climb from our mounts, “take the horses to water.” A boy pops from the darkness and gathers reins, whistling for a friend to come help him.
Mirlin bows and takes Lyra’s hand. “My lady, I am glad to see you safe.”
She smiles. “Safe and hungry.”
Mirlin grins. “We brought a deer down today. Food we have. Come within.” He clasps arms with Damin. “Good to see your ugly face too.”
The manner in which Damin grins tells me this westerner is Ilfin. I discover I am much relieved. Mirlin possesses skills we can well use soon.
Manuel and Kay slap backs and grin foolishly at each other. I watch Damin’s face. He is stoic. Manuel, clearly, is not Ilfin, although Kay is. These two men are as brothers; their loyalties will be tested. Inwardly I sigh. Every friendship will now be subject to distrust.
“Horin.” I focus as Mirlin speaks my name. “You have grown some.” The man stands grinning before me. “See you have a sword also. Nice. Can you use it?”
I laugh, suddenly liking the man. “I can use it.”
“Excellent,” Mirlin chortles. “Hungry?”
“Terribly,” I grin.
“Attis!” Mirlin calls out.
I notice how Damin’s lips briefly tighten. Damn. Not Attis. “Perhaps Attis will prefer spending some time with those of his own age,” I murmur. “Not so, Attis?” I gaze around, allowing my attention to settle on Manuel. “Do you know where the young hang out?”
“Sure. Come, boy.” Manuel gestures, and the two vanish downhill.
“I will see you in the morning, Attis!” Lyra calls after.
I gaze at Damin, who nods expressionlessly and says in a quiet tone, “Anything we discuss here may not be shared with either Attis or Manuel.”
With the arrival of daylight – a grey smudge – we ride for the rim. Fast, stopping twice to water the horses. Proof had arrived that Arc had commenced its campaign. We are out of time. Whatever we believe in and trust to no longer features; we need to do something before it escalates.
As night falls again, we see the lights of campfires, thousands of amber glows. The host is ahead. We do not stop, although we now walk our mounts to prevent them coming to injury in the darkness.
Two hours later we exit the treeline and there we come finally to a halt.
Seeing it like this, the host is larger than we realised. Fires dot the mountainside, glow from within caves and under overhangs, and nestle amid trees.
“By the stars, if the ancient Glonu succeed they will have a mighty army,” Damin states.
“Massin will be conquered,” Siri adds.
Lyra focuses on Damin. “Find Mirlin first. He is leader here.” The way she gazes at Damin reveals she prompts him to delve the man before making new decisions.
“And Manuel,” Kay puts in. “He too will know how it goes here.”
Attis, who has uttered barely a word since last night’s battle, but stuck to Lyra’s side throughout the day, stands in his stirrups and points. “There.”
The boy points at a fire higher than the others. We notice a few figures moving and throwing shadows on rock. It appears they are in the mouth of a cave.
I nudge my horse. “Slowly; we go slowly. Greet as we go, but say nothing until we are there.” I lead the way and the others fall in behind.
Carefully we wind through small gatherings around their fires. Some ignore us,; most call greeting of some kind. By the time we near the high fire, our progress to it is obvious to those gathered there.
Mirlin and Manuel together await us as we approach. Glancing at Damin, I notice his fixed expression, but say not a word.
“Harri,” Mirlin says as we climb from our mounts, “take the horses to water.” A boy pops from the darkness and gathers reins, whistling for a friend to come help him.
Mirlin bows and takes Lyra’s hand. “My lady, I am glad to see you safe.”
She smiles. “Safe and hungry.”
Mirlin grins. “We brought a deer down today. Food we have. Come within.” He clasps arms with Damin. “Good to see your ugly face too.”
The manner in which Damin grins tells me this westerner is Ilfin. I discover I am much relieved. Mirlin possesses skills we can well use soon.
Manuel and Kay slap backs and grin foolishly at each other. I watch Damin’s face. He is stoic. Manuel, clearly, is not Ilfin, although Kay is. These two men are as brothers; their loyalties will be tested. Inwardly I sigh. Every friendship will now be subject to distrust.
“Horin.” I focus as Mirlin speaks my name. “You have grown some.” The man stands grinning before me. “See you have a sword also. Nice. Can you use it?”
I laugh, suddenly liking the man. “I can use it.”
“Excellent,” Mirlin chortles. “Hungry?”
“Terribly,” I grin.
“Attis!” Mirlin calls out.
I notice how Damin’s lips briefly tighten. Damn. Not Attis. “Perhaps Attis will prefer spending some time with those of his own age,” I murmur. “Not so, Attis?” I gaze around, allowing my attention to settle on Manuel. “Do you know where the young hang out?”
“Sure. Come, boy.” Manuel gestures, and the two vanish downhill.
“I will see you in the morning, Attis!” Lyra calls after.
I gaze at Damin, who nods expressionlessly and says in a quiet tone, “Anything we discuss here may not be shared with either Attis or Manuel.”
January 13, 2016
The King's Challenge #164
TKC 164
The confrontation is short-lived. Damin deals with his opponent swiftly and then finishes off the one swinging his club at Lyra. She is nimble, dancing ever out of reach. Kay simply lobs the head of his assailant off, sending it rolling into the dark while the body crumbles before him. The man has skill with a sword.
Hanna and Joseph have it harder. The Messengers are able to defend themselves, but clearly have no idea how to attack to finish it. Quickly I sent my opponent into the netherworld of Arc and move to aid them.
Heaving, we stand in various poses. Bodies surround us.
Lyra whispers, “Unfortunately the residents here have now grown by another six.”
She refers to ability the Glonu have to live in ethereal form. I nod. “Soon, but at least these were not soldiers.”
Kay stares at a twisted form on the ground. “I knew him. He was a date farmer. I did not know him well, but liked him.”
Siri mumbles under her breath and then, aloud, she says, “We must bury them.”
Sheathing my sword, I return to the fire. “No need. The bodies will dissipate by morning.”
Lyra frowns. “Is that what happened in the past? In battle you left the fallen on the field and they dematerialised?”
I glance at her. “Glonu fallen, yes. Ilfin remained intact and required pyres.”
Arms akimbo, she demands, “So what happens if we do bury them?”
I stare at my sister. “Nothing.”
“Exactly, Horin. Nothing.”
Damin understands her point first. “If we bury them they cannot transform into the ghosts of Arc.”
She nods emphatically. Still staring at her, I realise she is right. By the stars. By all the blood red and sapphire blues out there, if we had buried the fallen Glonu in time, few would now roam in this shielded realm.
“We bury them,” I state.
The confrontation is short-lived. Damin deals with his opponent swiftly and then finishes off the one swinging his club at Lyra. She is nimble, dancing ever out of reach. Kay simply lobs the head of his assailant off, sending it rolling into the dark while the body crumbles before him. The man has skill with a sword.
Hanna and Joseph have it harder. The Messengers are able to defend themselves, but clearly have no idea how to attack to finish it. Quickly I sent my opponent into the netherworld of Arc and move to aid them.
Heaving, we stand in various poses. Bodies surround us.
Lyra whispers, “Unfortunately the residents here have now grown by another six.”
She refers to ability the Glonu have to live in ethereal form. I nod. “Soon, but at least these were not soldiers.”
Kay stares at a twisted form on the ground. “I knew him. He was a date farmer. I did not know him well, but liked him.”
Siri mumbles under her breath and then, aloud, she says, “We must bury them.”
Sheathing my sword, I return to the fire. “No need. The bodies will dissipate by morning.”
Lyra frowns. “Is that what happened in the past? In battle you left the fallen on the field and they dematerialised?”
I glance at her. “Glonu fallen, yes. Ilfin remained intact and required pyres.”
Arms akimbo, she demands, “So what happens if we do bury them?”
I stare at my sister. “Nothing.”
“Exactly, Horin. Nothing.”
Damin understands her point first. “If we bury them they cannot transform into the ghosts of Arc.”
She nods emphatically. Still staring at her, I realise she is right. By the stars. By all the blood red and sapphire blues out there, if we had buried the fallen Glonu in time, few would now roam in this shielded realm.
“We bury them,” I state.
January 12, 2016
The King's Challenge #163
TKC 163
Rolling the green and glowing orb from palm to palm, I contemplate the future. Whichever path is the victory road to it, the future will be different from the one expected six months ago. Even if all walk from here unscathed, what lies beyond these mountains have already altered what was familiar.
Thus it is about priorities. Deal with matters a situation at a time.
The first of those situations is upon us.
Tossing the orb up to catch it again, I stand. “Damin, Kay, Joseph,” I say. It comes out harsher than intended, but I need them to focus immediately.
Kay is behind me, returning from relieving himself. “We are surrounded.”
“We are.”
“Who?” Damin demands, getting to his feet. Lyra stands beside him. Both have daggers to hand.
“How many?” Joseph asks, removing two short knives from his boots, one to each hand.
“At least six,” I murmur as I stare into the darkness. “Evenly spaced to form a perimeter. They are armed. They are here to kill or capture us.” I notice Siri scuttle to Attis to shake the boy awake. “They are men, real men. Nothing ethereal about them.”
“Where do they come from?” Hanna asks quietly. She is calm and has a nasty-looking curved blade clutched in a two-handed grip.
“They came with us,” Damin growls.
“Arc begins to exert influence,” Lyra whispers.
“Indeed,” I confirm. “These are flesh and blood Glonu.”
“What do we do?” Siri asks.
“Kill them.”
Then there is no time left for talk. Six men rush out of the darkness. Two have swords, one wields a club, another a scimitar, and two have between them the tools of a blacksmith’s trade, including a mighty hammer. They are dirty, appear half starved, but there is no mistaking their intent.
“Take the one with the club,” I hear Damin tell Lyra, and then the battle becomes a physical force.
Rolling the green and glowing orb from palm to palm, I contemplate the future. Whichever path is the victory road to it, the future will be different from the one expected six months ago. Even if all walk from here unscathed, what lies beyond these mountains have already altered what was familiar.
Thus it is about priorities. Deal with matters a situation at a time.
The first of those situations is upon us.
Tossing the orb up to catch it again, I stand. “Damin, Kay, Joseph,” I say. It comes out harsher than intended, but I need them to focus immediately.
Kay is behind me, returning from relieving himself. “We are surrounded.”
“We are.”
“Who?” Damin demands, getting to his feet. Lyra stands beside him. Both have daggers to hand.
“How many?” Joseph asks, removing two short knives from his boots, one to each hand.
“At least six,” I murmur as I stare into the darkness. “Evenly spaced to form a perimeter. They are armed. They are here to kill or capture us.” I notice Siri scuttle to Attis to shake the boy awake. “They are men, real men. Nothing ethereal about them.”
“Where do they come from?” Hanna asks quietly. She is calm and has a nasty-looking curved blade clutched in a two-handed grip.
“They came with us,” Damin growls.
“Arc begins to exert influence,” Lyra whispers.
“Indeed,” I confirm. “These are flesh and blood Glonu.”
“What do we do?” Siri asks.
“Kill them.”
Then there is no time left for talk. Six men rush out of the darkness. Two have swords, one wields a club, another a scimitar, and two have between them the tools of a blacksmith’s trade, including a mighty hammer. They are dirty, appear half starved, but there is no mistaking their intent.
“Take the one with the club,” I hear Damin tell Lyra, and then the battle becomes a physical force.
January 11, 2016
The King's Challenge #162
Part 6HORIN
TKC 162
The darkness possesses that bated breath quality, the kind that awaits but a spark to erupt into frenetic activity. We all felt it earlier, although it was not a consciously present awareness. Now only me, Lyra and Damin swirl in the expectancy.
When Hanna and Joseph started talking, the tension released … for them.
Glancing at Damin, I see his fingers twitch. I notice also how Lyra smooths his thigh as if to calm him.
The fair man who is now my sister’s husband has discovered the Glonu in our midst. Will he say something?
Looking casually away, I delve myself, far deeper than Damin’s earlier questing.
On this world known as Massin, my current identity is Horin Parse. I am eight years old and have assumed the form of a more mature man. This is in part due to the warrior talent I am born with, but it is also due to the identity I have within. They called me Lord Makar in the past. Enris Makar is my name in the greater beyond.
As I delve, I wonder how relevant my name is in this time. This is a new world and a different period in the grand scheme and thus what went before cannot again be the measure of what I am. Today I am more comfortable with ‘Horin’. It is a name to bind me to this world’s fate.
Enris was selfish and too focused on his mission, and that is why he failed. Horin cares for others and is willing to share the burden of this new war with those able to help him. Horin, therefore, is real as Enris never can be again.
Nodding to myself, I return my attention to Damin. I am Horin and he is Damin. I stare at him a few moments, looking away before he becomes aware of my focus. Has Damin delved himself to know himself?
Does he know he too bore another name in another time?
TKC 162
The darkness possesses that bated breath quality, the kind that awaits but a spark to erupt into frenetic activity. We all felt it earlier, although it was not a consciously present awareness. Now only me, Lyra and Damin swirl in the expectancy.
When Hanna and Joseph started talking, the tension released … for them.
Glancing at Damin, I see his fingers twitch. I notice also how Lyra smooths his thigh as if to calm him.
The fair man who is now my sister’s husband has discovered the Glonu in our midst. Will he say something?
Looking casually away, I delve myself, far deeper than Damin’s earlier questing.
On this world known as Massin, my current identity is Horin Parse. I am eight years old and have assumed the form of a more mature man. This is in part due to the warrior talent I am born with, but it is also due to the identity I have within. They called me Lord Makar in the past. Enris Makar is my name in the greater beyond.
As I delve, I wonder how relevant my name is in this time. This is a new world and a different period in the grand scheme and thus what went before cannot again be the measure of what I am. Today I am more comfortable with ‘Horin’. It is a name to bind me to this world’s fate.
Enris was selfish and too focused on his mission, and that is why he failed. Horin cares for others and is willing to share the burden of this new war with those able to help him. Horin, therefore, is real as Enris never can be again.
Nodding to myself, I return my attention to Damin. I am Horin and he is Damin. I stare at him a few moments, looking away before he becomes aware of my focus. Has Damin delved himself to know himself?
Does he know he too bore another name in another time?
January 10, 2016
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Damin's Collage 2 - The King's Challenge
After 14 further posts from Damin's POV, it is time for a collage :)
Hereafter we will be moving on to a different tale teller, leaving Damin with his cliffhanger revelation. Have no fear, all will be explained!
If you have missed episodes and would like to catch up, all links are under The King's Challenge Page :)
Hereafter we will be moving on to a different tale teller, leaving Damin with his cliffhanger revelation. Have no fear, all will be explained!
If you have missed episodes and would like to catch up, all links are under The King's Challenge Page :)
