So this is happening, for real.

World Core Series © Adri Sinclair

Week 2 – Book 2:

Storytelling is a tricky thing. That is what my father always said. There are three sides to every story. Three components plaited together to create it:


Perception – to create a pillow upon which to rest a head full of dreams.


Interpretation – to create a blanket of goals and aspiration.


Facts – to harness the actions and reactions of reality and secure absolute knowledge.


 


Should one of the elements be missing, he explained, the story will unravel and you will be cold without the blanket, restless without the pillows and indecisive without the facts.


 


An unraveled story, is worthless because it does not contain history in myth, it only contains emptiness that swallows you whole and forces you not to exist. It does not give hope, or lessons, or warnings … It only gives darkness a voice to remind you, you are not yourself.


 


My father said that whenever I find myself in such a dark place, the light would only come when I get the story right.


When I weave the parts of it together that belongs to it.


When I stitch it back up to become, essentially, the truth of me.


 


While I am adrift in this dark place, I find it appropriate to recall this lesson and with it, question my story.


 


What is it that the Overseers wish to destroy? The Guardians wish to ignore? The prince of Maìro wishes to own?


Maìro.


If I continue on the path I started:


I destroy Maìro – the Overseers are happy because they do not have to answer anyone about their little scheme of forced colonization.


Maìro’s energy depletes – the Guardians are happy because that means no more killing off worlds to cover up genocide.


That leaves me with Prince Eillo Gharm, the Source of Maìro – Without the restriction of a world, he would have full access to me and the resources of Cor-Si.


 


The problem is, my story is unraveling because I learned that Maìro’s history is stored with Overseer’s knowledge. The Guardians appointed Maìro to find and protect their hearts and Prince Eillo Gharm loves his world enough to die for it.


 


The one thing all of them have in common is me.


A female, born with skills in line with Maìro’s Prince – I can astral travel.


A female, born with skills in line Cor-Si’s Overseers – I can call on my subconscious mind to become conscious all the while protecting myself with energy.


A female, born with skills in line with the Guardians – I can track spaceships with the naked eye and generate otherworld core energy.


 


They all seem to know something about me that I do not. They all seem to want something from me that I cannot identify. They all seem to tell me half-truths and whole lies to keep me in the dark.


 


Father was right; storytelling is a tricky thing. He never told me about collaboration of stories. How the story, history, myth and legends of another author’s life, can distract, influence and derail my own.


 


Perception to create a pillow to rest a head full of dreams. My head was so full of legends and myths that I could not perceive the dream of who I am because I was too busy living someone else’s story.


Interpretation to create a blanket of goals and aspiration. My goals and aspiration was to protect my family when it should have been self-preservation. I clung to the explanations handed to me by history so hard, my fingers tore the blanket before I even knew I had one.


Facts to harness the actions and reactions of reality and secure absolute knowledge. The facts presented itself at the very moment I found myself paralyzed by ignorance of my reality.


Only now, while my mind is quiet and I single out my own story, can I start weaving and stitching my way into a future, without re-telling or re-living the past.


 


The question I need to find the answer for is not who I am. I know who I am. The truth of me is a cookie-cut pattern of repeated expectations.


 


The question I need to find the answer for, is what am I?


 


I know I am not the Overseer of Cor-Si.


I know I am not Source of Maìro.


I know I am not a instrument of Guardians.


 


But what am I?


 


Eillo may be right.


 


I am a stubborn little creature, and I do not play by the rules.
World Core Series © Adri Sinclair

World Core Series © Adri Sinclair