Eric T. Benoit's Blog, page 3

Flames of Khyveria – Excerpt 1

Below is an excerpt from Flames of Khyveria. I hope you enjoy it. Any feedback is welcome.

Chapter 1

Walking home from gathering wood for the night’s fire she thought she heard someone whispering her name. She shivered and continued on, then it happened again, a slight breeze and the whisper, “Bethriel…Beeethriiieeel!”. This time she stopped and looked around as another shiver ran down her spine. There was no one else in sight and yet she had clearly heard someone whisper her name. Nervously she began walking again, and again “Bethriel!”. She began to run, paying no attention to the wood falling from her arms, all she could think about was getting home where she would be safe from whoever or whatever was after her.
Three more times, as she ran, she had heard the whisper calling her name. She burst into the cottage, sweat pouring down her face despite the cold outside. Slamming the door behind her and leaning against it, the bangs of her red hair sticking to her forehead, she cried out, “Mother!”
Just then her mother, Luanna, walked into the main room from the back. “What is it dear?” she said.
“Someone is out there, I hear them whispering my name but I couldn’t see anyone.” replied Bethriel.
Luanna’s face blanched as she heard this and she said, “Beth, you must leave the village, tonight.” She grabbed a rucksack and began to fill it with Bethriel’s clothing, some meat, cheese, bread and a water skin.
“No, I can’t go back out there! What if whoever is after me is out there?” Bethriel screamed, still blinking tears of fear from her emerald eyes.
“You must, you have to go find your father immediately. He will know what to do.”
Sighing slightly, Bethriel watched her mother continue to fill the sack. She could see the fear evident on her mother’s face and that made her feel more scared as well. She knew, of course, that her mother would never do anything to put her in harm’s way but she still needed to know more, “Mother, who was calling me out there?”
“It’s not a who dear, it’s a what. You don’t need to be afraid of it yet, it is not fully in this world. You need to find your father though, before it does break through. I cannot tell you more, your father knows these things but I don’t…Go. Find him and he will tell you all about it.” With this she shoved the sack into Bethriel’s hands and opened the door, “Look for your father at the Mines of Athronak, he is doing research there.”
“But, mother, it will take me almost 2 weeks to get to the mines.”
“Beth, listen to me, you are not a child anymore. You’re 16 and have knowledge beyond your years. Use that knowledge and you will get to your father safely.” She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek and gently ushered her out the door while saying all of this. When she had finished speaking she closed the door behind her daughter, leaned against it and began to sob.
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Flames of Khyveria - Excerpt 1

Below is an excerpt from Flames of Khyveria. I hope you enjoy it. Any feedback is welcome.



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As most of you know I have begun work on my first Novel, Flames of Khyveria: The Khyverian Chronicles Book 1. Up to this point I haven't really spoken much about it but as I feel that I am no making some progress I felt I should share some info with you all.



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We’ve all heard the stories of the muses, beautiful women who inspired writers and artists to do their best works. Inevitably the writer or artist in question would create a masterpiece that would put their name on the map for all eternity. These muses still exist today, but not the way people think.

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If you are meant to write then you need no look to outside sources for your inspiration. Look to yourself. Take a minute to think, “How do I feel today?” or “What do I think will make interesting writing today?” An answer to either of these two questions will give you some insight as to how and what you should write that day. We write because we love to write, not because we feel we have to. If you feel that you are being forced to write our writing will be mediocre at best. We, as writers, do not need inspiration from an outside source, we need to inspire ourselves. I believe that the muses of old were metaphors for our own internal thoughts and feelings, they lead us to work harder at what we love to do and show us the path to greatness. Do not allow the outside world to hurt your writing by giving you false inspiration, listen to your heart and your instincts, they won’t steer you wrong. Be your own muse.

Where do you draw your inspiration from? I’d love to hear so please leave a comment below.

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