Stay warm and read!

 

ILFIN OF ARC

TINSAL

Zodiac Signs as Mythical Creatures

 Nicked from FB, but I can't now recall who put these together. All credit due to the artist!

I'm a dragon. YES!

Still a miracle

 

Synchronicity

 

520+!

Thank you SO MUCH  for visiting my Writing World!!

xxx

VIAN: Winter of the Unicorn - first images

So VIAN is now a proper WIP! This is book 2 in the Seasons Series, and here's the first two images I've inserted into the manuscript to serve as inspiration :)

One foot in a fairy tale

 

We are treasure chests

 

Tower of Stairs (Excerpt & real world proof)

Today I'm showcasing the Tower of Stairs, a sacred site in my Lore Universe. I wrote this many years ago, but only recently did I come across a real world place that actually mirrors what imagination conjured up. Here I'm including the excerpt from the Kallanon Scales (and AI image), as well as images of Ambuluwawa Tower in Kandy, Sri Lanka. Amazing, isn't it?!

Northern Valaris

The Tower of Stairs

 

TORRULLIN TRANSPORTED north the afternoon before the others were expected. Thundor accompanied him. The Thinnings entertained the notion of entering the Zone and made good argument.

After surveying the massive arena that was the Tower of Stairs, Torrullin was satisfied. It was the best place for what would come next. He cleared the vast floor of light snow and hopped up onto the first tier to check the caverns hewn into the rock. The caverns were comfortable suites for the Valleur when they spent time here. He reinstated the tradition of gathering at the amphitheatre for winter and summer solstices. Twice a year the mountains thus reverberated with celebration. The next solstice was a month and a half away.

Torrullin raised his gaze to the four peaks, Mon, Shin, Rue and Bres, permanently snow-capped, but free of cloud. Saska loved those peaks, different to anything on her homeworld, watery Canimer.

Snow lay thick around the edges of the arena, but conditions were acceptable under the auspices of the site’s magic. There were five tiers and the Vallorin’s suite was on the central level at the northern compass point, and that was where Torrullin headed. He did not go in, swivelling instead before the entrance to view the fantastical tower in the centre of the arena, rising to a height to rival that of the four peaks. Around this spike a stairway wound, no handholds, no railing, ever tighter as the diameter decreased with height, until it ended in a platform no more than two hand spans in width.

At every solstice gathering, they elected a solstice king and queen and theirs was the challenge to mount the stairs and climb as high as they dared, and thereafter others attempted to better them. Thus far, only Vannis attained the pinnacle, in another era.

During Margus’ unsavoury reign, Vannis and Taranis challenged each other. A year later, in autumn, they made good on it. Those remaining after the final battle with Margus came to witness; himself, Saska, Raken, Lycea with the infant twins, Belun, Lanto, Kisha and Kylan, Quilla, Phet and Shep Lore.

They came to witness, but also to reunite. Fun they had, laughing hard when Taranis ventured a third of the way to descend with dark mutterings about it being impossible. He was immortal, but not stupid. Vannis proved him wrong, ascending an additional third, but came down without attempting the pinnacle. He wryly stated he no longer possessed the same fearlessness, and Torrullin wondered if he lied to spare Taranis. Vannis and Taranis could be competitive, were often at odds.

He stared now at the Tower. He had denied every challenge at the solstice meetings. His gaze travelled the length of the spike, pausing midway on a tiny speck. Thundor.

Now it was him. And the Thinnings. A witness.

Torrullin ambled across the arena floor, gathering missing willpower, and wits. He needed to challenge and sharpen his human abilities. He placed a booted foot on the first step and looked up to find Thundor five steps removed.

The Thinnings raised an eyebrow. “With no Valleur in the vicinity? Does that not defeat the purpose of the exercise?”

“If you have been watching as closely as you suggest, you must know those questions are immaterial.”

Thundor bowed. “The Enchanter prefers privacy.”

For a moment that put Torrullin off. “You believe it a fault?”

“For this, no. I think the reason many fail in the climb is the pressure of personalities watching.”

“Out of my way.”

Thundor scuttled aside as Torrullin passed him and began to climb. One carefully placed foot after the other, maintaining eye contact with the next precarious step. He climbed slowly, halting every tenth to draw a deep breath.

It was simple at first, taking little energy, but gradually the gaps between the stairs lessened and the width narrowed. He looked neither up nor down, clamping down every natural instinct that would have him check his progress, but his heart began to hammer, and he wondered belatedly if he should have removed his boots at the base; there was barely enough room to place his foot.

Too soon, he placed his feet on alternate steps, causing him to over-balance. For the first time he put a steadying hand to the Tower itself, and retracted instantly when it felt as if it would toss him down. He understood what others said about the Tower’s influence upon the climb.

The stairs became slippery, the air colder, and he knew he passed the two-thirds level. He dared not check. There were his feet, the next cautious placement, and his hammering heart. Nothing to be afraid of, for he could arrest his fall if he tumbled over, but he desired to go as far as he was able to, and return to ground without a humiliating tumble.

Resting to draw deep breaths in the thin air, he released in a cloud of vapour that nearly blinded him. He shallowed his breathing, through his nose now, grit his teeth and took another step, every third thereafter.

He lifted for the next before he realised there were no more. With a silent oath he sought to regain balance, standing swaying on his toes on the tiny platform.

Long moments passed and he had it, standing unmoving at the top of the world. Without sorcery, it was all him. He wanted to shout, revel in the achievement, and dared not. He needed to go down and, according to reports, that was worse.

He gazed around, not long, for he felt the pull of gravity, and looked upon Valaris without the Sight. What a wondrous planet, such incredible beauty and diversity. How he loved this world of his birth, through every change. He stared south in the direction of the Keep and could see and sense the activity there. He felt Torrke, the sentient presence, acknowledge his gaze. He drew breath, feeling lost. Torrke, a friend as no other, but not human, not Valleur, no tangible, beating heart.

Where are you, Saska?

He turned before loneliness overcame concentration, but had the presence of mind to do so in infinitesimal degrees until he faced the downward spiral. For an instant, his gaze fixed on the faraway arena floor, and he understood how the downward view influenced the descent.

Regaining control, he pasted his gaze to the stairs. He attempted to ignore his pounding heart, but that was not as easy with blood pulsing in his ears. He descended.

He could not do this with the entire Valleur nation hanging onto his every move; their expectations alone would debilitate. Thundor was right. He was certain Vannis achieved this feat in private. He would ask sometime.

Torrullin came to the point where the stairs took on every aspect of normality, and realised he had succeeded, the up and the murderous down, and ran to the bottom.

A tinny clapping of hands marked his remarkable achievement, and he laughed aloud. Thundor danced a merry jig on the arena floor.

“Very well done, Enchanter!”

Torrullin slapped the side of the Tower in glee. “Got your measure now!”

Thundor appeared on the step at eye level. “You have courage, Enchanter. The Thinnings revere that.”

Torrullin’s hands slid from the cold rock. “My little friend, courage isn’t everything.”

“I was not talking about courage alone,” Thundor demurred. “I meant we revere you.”

“I do not deserve it.”

“Humble also? It doesn’t suit you. It is as it is. Of course, the Thinnings do understand that your tale is yet to begin, but …”

“Begin?”

Thundor chewed at his lips. “Me and my big mouth.”

“There are Dragons, Thundor?”

The Thinnings looked at him sideways. “Is this a test?”

“I have no idea.”

“I hate tests,” Thundor muttered, looking everywhere but at Torrullin. “Every examiner seeks a difference answer. What are you looking for?”

“A simple yes or no will suffice.”

Thundor sighed deeply. “Yes, Enchanter, there are Dragons.”

“As I suspected.”

The Thinnings knew something was confirmed that had less to do with the actual existence of Dragons than an inner something.

Torrullin shrugged and paced away, his mind in renewed turmoil. It was time for Quilla to come clean. No more stalling. After a while, he began counting paces, realising what use it would be to Matt, and thus could set aside thoughts of Dragons. He set aside the achievement in ascending the Tower; it was not important. He did not set aside Thundor’s inadvertent comment about his journey having yet to begin.

THE KALLANON SCALES

An ancient map points the way …

 … as well as a strange prophecy, and anyone who dares speak of either, dies.

A new enemy enters the Valla arena, but this one is as old as time and seeks a forbidden place. The terrible source of Valla power is uncovered. As friends and family are murdered, Torrullin reveals the truth about the Valla Dragon. He hurtles into battle when his twin sons are kidnapped, and takes with him into danger a pilot, a navigator and an innocent girl - they are the Dalrish seeking escape from Xen III.

Another truth rears up, the tale of the Nine who fled into the Forbidden Zone with a strange taliesman in the shape of a dragon. Quilla knows who the fire creatures are; the Q’lin’la fled them in ancient time. They are the Kallanon, the Glittering Darkness.

“There are dragons in my future,” Torrullin once tells Quilla, and that future is now.

War erupts on a world no more than a circle on an ancient map. There Torrullin discovers who his sons really are, Taranis of the Guardians confronts his inner demons, Bartholamu of the Siric faces his arch-nemesis, Q’lin’la and Kallanon are thrown into the same melting pot, an ancient emperor speaks again, the new Lady of Life is born, the Dalrish have a profound effect on Torrullin, and Vannis seeks revenge.

The Kallanon Scales is an epic journey into the realms of time and legend, and forever alters the future.

Caturday: Purr away

 

Sneaky Fiction

 

Had to share!

Updated image of the shortest version of ALIEN 😄

 

Except January!!

 

Perfect Words

 

Making up words

 

MEDITATION

 

The shits

 

Oldest operating library in the world

 

TINSAL excerpt: Sunflower Tower

 

Eventually a bumpy ride ended before the forgotten chapel.

Rose had not spoken since the hilltop, and neither did Zanderin, other than the curses required to awaken his driver.

This was Sunflower Tower, the chapel built in commemoration of an ancient battle. A long time ago warriors from a neighbouring society invaded this mountain basin, to rape and pillage and burn. Many died, and in the aftermath sunflowers sprouted up from this field of remains. Many still regarded it as an omen; the bodies now dust, the bones buried deep within this fertile field. By all accounts, every attempt to remove the dead, whether of friend or foe, met with only failure. Another omen.

After the pass through the mountains was sealed to future invaders by induced rockslides, the Tower was built, but most ignored it today, as if proximity would infuse them with dark thoughts. The sunflowers continued to flourish. No one was able to explain it. No one sought to explain it. This was an out of sight, out of mind mentality.

Zanderin speculated whether Amaris could have illuminated the phenomenon. If anyone had an answer, it would be her. It was a pity she was deceased. Thank the ancient gods she was.

Time to focus on the present.

On the living mirror she left behind.

After the events at the Stone, a number of the warriors present there chose the cloth. Guilt? No doubt. Jonah Ferntree was one; Rex was another. Jonah received the blessings of Ferntree wealth in his choice of parish; Rex chose this backwater as his vocational home, because here he felt able to atone.

“Which card is his?” Rose asked, speaking for the first time as she clambered from the carriage to stand staring over the masses of sunflowers all around.

Black discs surrounded by bright yellow petals lifted their faces to the sun they were named after.

“The Penitent. His name is Rex. No family name. He is no more than a labourer, but the Church accepts all kinds.”

“Ignorance won’t save him?”

Zanderin frowned, voicing a thought he entertained when Bronwyn handed him the card. “Rex killed sixteen of Tinsal’s guard at the Stone, among them a man loyal to Bronwyn his entire life. No, ignorance won’t save him.”

They turned as one when a voice called out, “May I help you?”

Fantasy with a twist; akin to an alternate Assassin’s Creed, where tarot cards are the weapons.

Bronwyn, a woman scorned, loses her honour, status, and her leg, and now the time has come to exact retribution.

Zanderin, a sorcerer bound to her, waves his magic over the attention seeking cards, each with a name attached, and every card becomes a symbol of doom. This is a cosmic deck, dealing in fate. Via his swift carriage, hooded and cloaked, he is the harbinger and assassin.

Terra meets her betrothed, Rhodry, when Zanderin gifts his first card. Rhodry and Zanderin are connected, and everyone linked to them is on Bronwyn’s list of names.

TINSAL is about bloodlines, secrets, and a controlled society. As the cards are dealt, death follows, until the endgame moves to Castle Tinsal itself.

TINSAL

A lot to learn

 

Caturday: Kitty LOve

 

Hocus Pocus

 

Our souls do not speak ...

 

Be your biggest fan

 

Realm of Forgotten Things WIP

So, this is interim cover (or maybe I like it enough to keep it!) for a new novella I'm starting. A crazy place where literally ANYTHING is possible, so stay tuned for tongue-in-cheek humour alongside some serious action! I will be writing it when time allows (am editing for Redwing Productions at the moment and the second Seasons book is calling to me …) 😊

Dust of Snow

 

Oldie but a goodie :)

 

Images linking to my blogs

So, I'm updating my blogs and started with the images that serve to link to the others (& my FB Page). You'll find them in the sidebars.

Bards and Tales

Elaina's Facebook Page

Multiverse Tales

Elaina's Writing World

The Lore Series

Redwing Productions