Elaina J. Davidson's Blog, page 397
August 18, 2015
Two TKC posts today!
Hi, all! Due to personal commitments yesterday, I was unable to post (or even write) the next TKC episode and therefore there will be two today :)Watch this space!
August 16, 2015
The King's Challenge #19
TKC 19
Mother told me the tale of the two eyes. Any colour, she said, but two different. Many fear the arrival of the two eyes, claiming witchery. Others celebrate such a birth, believing the two eyes are great healers. Both are true, Lyra, she said, but that is not the whole of the story.
This is what Damin refers to when he says I will keep survivors alive. It is about healing, but on a massive scale, using methods no one will name as traditional.
A long time ago, mother said, there was another with two eyes and she came when death was a spectre no one could ignore. Drought and famine would soon take the last. She stood on a rock in the desert and summoned rain. More than that, she summoned flakes of sustenance to feed everyone until the new harvest, and thus was civilisation saved.
How, I asked. I cannot say, Lyra, but you will know. It is inside you.
I do not yet know. All I have are legends, and they give no details. Damin became my betrothed, the only man in Grenmassin who would have me. We are childhood friends, we know each other well, and yet most were surprised when Damin approached my mother. My father died a year before, and I believe he would have said no to Damin. My mother said yes.
Now I understand why the elders of Grenmassin sent me to find Damin. He lends my words credence. He allays their fears simply by choosing to bond himself with me. The Mur name carries weight inland. They also sent me, I now realise, to test my latent gift somewhere else first.
If I fail in either gift or returning Damin to the fold, they will remain in Grenmassin. They will all die.
Mother told me the tale of the two eyes. Any colour, she said, but two different. Many fear the arrival of the two eyes, claiming witchery. Others celebrate such a birth, believing the two eyes are great healers. Both are true, Lyra, she said, but that is not the whole of the story.
This is what Damin refers to when he says I will keep survivors alive. It is about healing, but on a massive scale, using methods no one will name as traditional.
A long time ago, mother said, there was another with two eyes and she came when death was a spectre no one could ignore. Drought and famine would soon take the last. She stood on a rock in the desert and summoned rain. More than that, she summoned flakes of sustenance to feed everyone until the new harvest, and thus was civilisation saved.
How, I asked. I cannot say, Lyra, but you will know. It is inside you.
I do not yet know. All I have are legends, and they give no details. Damin became my betrothed, the only man in Grenmassin who would have me. We are childhood friends, we know each other well, and yet most were surprised when Damin approached my mother. My father died a year before, and I believe he would have said no to Damin. My mother said yes.
Now I understand why the elders of Grenmassin sent me to find Damin. He lends my words credence. He allays their fears simply by choosing to bond himself with me. The Mur name carries weight inland. They also sent me, I now realise, to test my latent gift somewhere else first.
If I fail in either gift or returning Damin to the fold, they will remain in Grenmassin. They will all die.
August 15, 2015
Justine's Journal #52
And here we are, this is Justine's final journal entry! Next week we'll do a final post for insights :)
Week 52
And here we are at the end of our 52 week challenge! I feel strange writing this final entry, knowing it will be the last. Now I look forward to the book, for I am intrigued by how it will feel to have it in my hands at some future time, to then look back at a year in my life. We learn from our mistakes and admitting them often leads to reward, a soul’s reward.
This has been intensely satisfying. The act of forcing myself to be honest and to think has opened doors in my mind, heart and spirit, and I intend to continue doing so in my private journal. Thank you for reading. I hope you too have reached a state of acceptance of self.
We make mistakes. Often we don’t think first. Sometimes emotions cloud our perceptions. All of these are factors I have come to realise. Understanding ourselves, I believe, smooths the path we walk. It isn’t without bumps and mountains, but we are better able to deal with obstacles. Know this, though. We also have a tendency to ignore lessons learned, for our egos end up interfering. If we keep that in mind, most of the time we can pause first and then take the necessary action. If not, if we lash out without thinking, we need to understand we are human and not beat ourselves up in the aftermath. If you falter, breathe, think, and then fix.
As humans we have much to teach each other, on every level. If only the world will hear this. Let us talk to each other, listen to each other, offer a smile and project acceptance and love to all ages and creeds. If we do this, peace will be ours. Personal peace and world peace. The majority wants this – why then is peace elusive? To answer that will entail an essay of note, and I am not the one to offer it. I have not the words to explain every factor. I do have the hope we will get there one day, if only a moment at a time, a smile at a time. The road to peace begins in each of us, so concentrate on your journey.
On a more personal note, I faltered this week. My neighbour was nosey about my writing, and made those snide comments writers dread. Are you published? It takes long to write a book, doesn’t it? Seems it doesn’t pay, maybe you should get a real job … and so forth. She was speaking from her point of view, of course, having no understanding of the process. I should have explained with a smile, but I rudely told her to mind her own business. Very rudely, in fact. After, I understood her point of view and I went over to apologise. It turns out, she is writing children’s stories, and she needed someone to know that, to tell her it’s okay if it doesn’t all come magically together. Neither of us has published, but now we can laugh about it and support each other.
See? Ego. If we falter, breathe, think and then fix. Now there is peace between neighbours!
Final note, before I leave you to your future. Love yourself first. The rest comes to you when you accept yourself. And smile!
Thank you for coming on this journey with me!
The King's Challenge #18
TKC 18
“Dying is not an option,” Damin mutters. “We start the so-called revolution by saving the folk of the lower city from the floodwater.”
“How do you propose to do that?” I ask.
He gives me a smile. “We have been busy. We built boats and hid them. If we can get to them, we row folk to a place where the plateau is more accessible.”
It sounds like a plan, yes. It also sounds dangerous. Rowing laden boats in a flood? Attempting to get to those boats from here, with the lawmen on the look-out? Dangerous. I say so and earn a look of censure.
“What happened to the Lyra who swam the torrent back home to save a puppy?” Damin demands.
“She grew up,” I snap back. “I did not say I will not do it; I am saying it is dangerous. This too can get us killed.”
He blinks at me. “Maybe you should stay here.”
“No, I am not sitting in a cocoon while you risk your life. I need you alive and I need you to come home with me to convince the stubborn old folks to pack up and head south. So I am going with you. Argue all you want, it will help none.”
Those blue eyes stare into my soul. “I missed you,” Damin murmurs.
His words anger me. Until I showed up in his enclave, he gave me no thought and now he missedme? “Not enough to send word.” I glare at him.
“I tried, Lyra, but all post is confiscated.” He comes to sit beside me and takes my hand. “Learn a trade I said, and I did. I learned how to lead people. We need leadership desperately. We also need your talents. Lyra, I will lead them to safety, but you will keep them alive.”
“Dying is not an option,” Damin mutters. “We start the so-called revolution by saving the folk of the lower city from the floodwater.”
“How do you propose to do that?” I ask.
He gives me a smile. “We have been busy. We built boats and hid them. If we can get to them, we row folk to a place where the plateau is more accessible.”
It sounds like a plan, yes. It also sounds dangerous. Rowing laden boats in a flood? Attempting to get to those boats from here, with the lawmen on the look-out? Dangerous. I say so and earn a look of censure.
“What happened to the Lyra who swam the torrent back home to save a puppy?” Damin demands.
“She grew up,” I snap back. “I did not say I will not do it; I am saying it is dangerous. This too can get us killed.”
He blinks at me. “Maybe you should stay here.”
“No, I am not sitting in a cocoon while you risk your life. I need you alive and I need you to come home with me to convince the stubborn old folks to pack up and head south. So I am going with you. Argue all you want, it will help none.”
Those blue eyes stare into my soul. “I missed you,” Damin murmurs.
His words anger me. Until I showed up in his enclave, he gave me no thought and now he missedme? “Not enough to send word.” I glare at him.
“I tried, Lyra, but all post is confiscated.” He comes to sit beside me and takes my hand. “Learn a trade I said, and I did. I learned how to lead people. We need leadership desperately. We also need your talents. Lyra, I will lead them to safety, but you will keep them alive.”
August 14, 2015
The King's Challenge #17
TKC 17
The silver buys us three days at the inn. Attis brings the book up and I sign us in as Lyra and Horin Parse, brother and sister. Horin is my brother, but he is only seven and is back in Grenmassin.
I hand Attis another copper for food and ask if he can find dry clothes for us. The boy absconds with a grin, taking book and coins with him.
Damin is undressing when I turn and I avert my gaze.
“Lyra, now is not the time for prudishness. Remove your wet clothes or you will be ill by nightfall,” Damin says. He throws the bed’s coverlet at me.
Prudish? Ha. I do, however, do as bid, keeping my back to him.
“Underclothes also, Lyra,” he says in amusement.
Muttering dire threats, I remove everything and wrap myself into the coverlet’s warmth before turning. He is similarly wrapped. I must admit I already feel much better. I give him a look and sit on the bed.
Damin hunkers before me. “I stayed because I saw we have need of an army. We cannot turn this tide alone, Lyra. Unfortunately, all I achieved was the fury of the authorities, for they see it as revolution. It is, but we are nor revolting against them. We seek to save everyone.”
I swallow. “Your vision is larger. I sought to save only those we love back home.”
“One rarely sees the stars here,” Damin says. “How big is it now?”
“The size of a silver,” I whisper. “Bigger daily. It is very bright.”
He slaps his thighs as he rises. “We have to get everyone south, to the heat! Can they not see we will freeze if we stay here?”
“They do not care. Those with coin have already left. We will be left to die.”
The silver buys us three days at the inn. Attis brings the book up and I sign us in as Lyra and Horin Parse, brother and sister. Horin is my brother, but he is only seven and is back in Grenmassin.
I hand Attis another copper for food and ask if he can find dry clothes for us. The boy absconds with a grin, taking book and coins with him.
Damin is undressing when I turn and I avert my gaze.
“Lyra, now is not the time for prudishness. Remove your wet clothes or you will be ill by nightfall,” Damin says. He throws the bed’s coverlet at me.
Prudish? Ha. I do, however, do as bid, keeping my back to him.
“Underclothes also, Lyra,” he says in amusement.
Muttering dire threats, I remove everything and wrap myself into the coverlet’s warmth before turning. He is similarly wrapped. I must admit I already feel much better. I give him a look and sit on the bed.
Damin hunkers before me. “I stayed because I saw we have need of an army. We cannot turn this tide alone, Lyra. Unfortunately, all I achieved was the fury of the authorities, for they see it as revolution. It is, but we are nor revolting against them. We seek to save everyone.”
I swallow. “Your vision is larger. I sought to save only those we love back home.”
“One rarely sees the stars here,” Damin says. “How big is it now?”
“The size of a silver,” I whisper. “Bigger daily. It is very bright.”
He slaps his thighs as he rises. “We have to get everyone south, to the heat! Can they not see we will freeze if we stay here?”
“They do not care. Those with coin have already left. We will be left to die.”
August 13, 2015
The King's Challenge #16
TKC 16
The rain intensifies. The switchback path is already a river of mud. Slipping frequently, we run as fast as the wet slope allows.
With the end in sight, Damin veers off, seemingly entering the cliff itself. As he still has my hand, I am dragged with him.
“They will be waiting up there. If not for us, certainly for anyone from the lower city. We have a secret entrance we use to fool them.”
Who is this Damin? I ask myself, but time is of the essence. Those questions can wait. I ask instead, “They keep folk down there even knowing many will drown? That is barbaric.”
“The reality of Normur,” Damin murmurs, and finds his hidden door. “Come.”
Water seeps in rivulets into the tunnel. Given Damin’s haste, I assume it will soon be impassable. An age later, he heaves his shoulder against a trapdoor. Rainwater pours in through the seams. Grunting, he gets it open. A deluge soaks me.
Soon we are running the cobbled streets of Normur. I have recognised the tower of the inn I noticed when I first arrived and we head towards it, threading through alleys to keep it in sight. It has now rained for almost an hour. The wet season has arrived.
Bedraggled and cold, we finally knock on the backdoor of the inn. Dawn approaches; someone should be awake. As the stars will have it, Attis opens to us. His eyes round and then he gestures, rolling his eyes in every direction. With a finger to his lips, he leads us up a flight of stairs and into an empty suite.
“Can you pay?” he whispers. “I can say you came in the night and I signed you in.”
Nodding, I hand him a silver. “How long with that?”
The rain intensifies. The switchback path is already a river of mud. Slipping frequently, we run as fast as the wet slope allows.
With the end in sight, Damin veers off, seemingly entering the cliff itself. As he still has my hand, I am dragged with him.
“They will be waiting up there. If not for us, certainly for anyone from the lower city. We have a secret entrance we use to fool them.”
Who is this Damin? I ask myself, but time is of the essence. Those questions can wait. I ask instead, “They keep folk down there even knowing many will drown? That is barbaric.”
“The reality of Normur,” Damin murmurs, and finds his hidden door. “Come.”
Water seeps in rivulets into the tunnel. Given Damin’s haste, I assume it will soon be impassable. An age later, he heaves his shoulder against a trapdoor. Rainwater pours in through the seams. Grunting, he gets it open. A deluge soaks me.
Soon we are running the cobbled streets of Normur. I have recognised the tower of the inn I noticed when I first arrived and we head towards it, threading through alleys to keep it in sight. It has now rained for almost an hour. The wet season has arrived.
Bedraggled and cold, we finally knock on the backdoor of the inn. Dawn approaches; someone should be awake. As the stars will have it, Attis opens to us. His eyes round and then he gestures, rolling his eyes in every direction. With a finger to his lips, he leads us up a flight of stairs and into an empty suite.
“Can you pay?” he whispers. “I can say you came in the night and I signed you in.”
Nodding, I hand him a silver. “How long with that?”
