Ye Olde Tyme (excuse generator)

 

It's quite Ancient

 

Audio Books are awesome!

 

GABRIEL

Ethereal Musician

ILFIN OF ARC

The Orphan

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Oh, how they talk

 

A large group of humans is ...

 

Excerpt: The KINFIRE Tree - Lifesource

 

Purity. Life-giving water. The Lifesource.

Thousands of years ago when the Valleur settled Valaris, they came to this place. Water and its life-giving properties were and remain extremely important to the Golden. Water was their collective soul, respected, worshipped as a living entity. Thus they did not name rivers, for naming something worthy of worship was considered sacrilege. They came here to acknowledge Life.

Although Valaris had larger and broader rivers elsewhere, here the water was vibrant, trembling with joyous life within the core of the planet, bursting forth into the light and freedom of the world in splendid glory. Water gushed powerfully from the deepest caverns of the old rock mere feet from him, to fall hundreds of feet to paths below.

Here they built a temple of transcendent beauty, infused with the earth’s telluric currents; small wonder the monuments to death were located in the neighbouring valley: life and death, inseparable.

Torrullin knelt and leaned over the sheer precipice to touch the icy water, marked the violent power it contained, and drew strength. He straightened and licked his hand, becoming for a second one with the power of Life.

He put his back to the dangerous drop, and faced east, the direction the planet received the first rays of light from day after day without fail, only local cloud cover occasionally interfering with that sublimity. He shouted into the wind, he shouted the words Kylan shouted when faced with Infinity, the words Rayne used to protect them on an angry ocean, the words of protective enchantment. “Mykia lan shuldra ka! Invin ka!”

Considering his precarious perch on the narrow strip of land, in the fury of the mother of all storms, he would need the protection when he called forth the Lifesource Temple.

He raised his hands on high and shouted the uncloaking, “Ma nume ka shunl, ma nume ka shunl, ra shu donl ken, nume ka! Nume ka!”

Effervescent colour, glittering bright as day, transformed the deep night into a carnival of fireworks. Music burst forth, symphonies, but not of this world or any world, rather the harmonies of legends and angels, once heard forever yearned for.

This is Valleur? Torrullin questioned in profound amazement, and tears were on his cheeks, of joy, of sadness, for so swiftly did the music find the soul, and he was not ashamed of his reaction.

A force pulsed outward. Without the protective enchantment, he would have cartwheeled backward into the void, for even with it he hit the ground, his tears now for physical and unexpected jarring impact.

The music softened to a background whisper of continuing bliss.

“Invin ka! Ra shu len Vall rin!” he ground out, his shout a whisper.

This was the second uncloaking, for the Temple laid hidden layer within layer. The pulsing force petered out, and Torrullin rose with a groan, rubbing his left elbow. From the narrow land bridge, a path of white illumination shot into the dark over the void to the east and, at its end, the Temple.

It shimmered upon an island of imagination, suspended in the air, its tenuous connection to reality the path of light. He held his breath, awed by the ethereal beauty. The Temple was pure light, silver sparkles, and almost he stepped onto the path of light in his urgency to get to it.

In time he remembered the third uncloaking, the one that created out of fantasy solid reality. This was the trap, the narrow line of a truth test. Only a Valleur, or an initiate accepted by the Valleur, could know the three words of the truly ancient tongue that would solidify the light in the dark. Without those words, the Temple remained a dream vision, and to step onto the bridge of light to it resulted in a screaming descent into the eastern void.

Vicl manna vann loosely translated meant simply I am able, and Torrullin whispered them. He was able, and he stepped onto the lightbridge. His feet met the resistance of reality.

Slowly, fascinated, he walked the path of light. The Temple increased in size and magnificence the closer he came. It was the span of a small city, chamber within chamber, seemingly random and without thought and the walls were transparent moonlight. To gaze on it was to see into its heart, while seeing only a portion of the whole. It had been built by the master-builders, yes, but of undiluted sorcery. It was real, but to touch meant one’s senses, one’s fingers, could find no equivalent. It was a fantasy, a religion, a thought, a soul-vessel, and it was tangible. It was inspiring, magical, angelic and of true beauty.

Kin is Everything

 

We return to the Land of Skies. One battle is already behind the team, the disastrous events upon Ardosia; time now to concentrate on the stability of Valaris, or the same fate awaits her.

Hidden from humankind are fourteen sacred Valleur sites, built upon nodes of power. Vannis Valla advocates unveiling them to restore balance to the earth, which will aid in the fight against Margus. The Darak Or has other ideas, and unleashes his soltakin …

In the north, Averroes discovers her true past and she and Kylan run the Maze gauntlet. Kisha, Mordan, Cristi and Samson prepare the clans of old for eternal night. In the south, Vannis, Rayne and Saska, along with the charismatic little Falcon, Phet, move from site to site. Taranis and the Guardians delve arcane ritual in the Dome to find the answers to the ending of soltakin, while expecting Infinity to bring her Darkling Horde into the mix. Meanwhile McSee, unmasked as traitor, meets the crazy Lanto and they hatch a bold plan, involving a pirate and ancient loot.

Rayne begins the internal battle that will change all. It began for him on Ardosia when he touched Vannis only to release blue sparks between them. The ruling house is almost extinct. How, therefore, does a Valla recognise the blood for the future? By the blue flame of trebac. Kinfire. The legendary Vannis is kin, but there is more in store for Rayne than the reality of this profound connection.

The Kinfire Tree has many branches hidden in its foliage, a condition Rayne suspects, a greater truth he must reveal …

THE KNFIRE TREE

And Eternity in an hour

 

Caturday: Bad Luck

 

Intuition

 

530k+!

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xxx

VIAN: A Mural Cavern

A new image for VIAN: Winter of the Unicorn

Magic is ...

 

Yes, mostly for the joy in seeing them grow

 

When?

 When I came across this, to be honest! I mean, you know it, right, but don't know it, if that makes sense 😁

Dracontology

 

The patterns of your life

 

I listen

 

Oooo, I'd love to go inside!

 

VIAN's progress

If you recall, while I was writing ECHO (Seasons 1), I mentioned that I knew it was going somewhere once I reached 30k. Well, VIAN (Seasons 2) is now over 30k as well, which means the story not only has me, but it's going somewhere. So far, it seems VIAN will be longer (many threads this time) …

Here's the latest image insert (yup, there's a library in this one!):

Ilfin of Arc Excerpt: Triskelion

 

EVER AFTER, IF there was an after for any of them, he would regard that night at the campfire as the most pivotal time in his life.

His name was Damin Mur and he was known as the Marsh Devil, but this night he would become the one who ripped masks off. Was there a name for such a creature? Unmasker? Was that a word? Soulslicer? Was he to be known as the Devil Delver?

They were silent after the meal – leftovers from the morning’s rabbit stew – and thus the crackling from the fire was louder than usual. Damin noticed it, and then realised the snapping of burning twigs did not quite cover the terrible sense of expectancy in their surrounds. It felt as if the self-contained world of Arc was waiting, was listening, and was judging. Was it judging him? Or would it use what he discovered in this silence? Was he the harbinger it needed?

Lyra lay with her head on his lap, her eyes closed. She seemed relaxed to the others, but he felt how tense she was and knew she was as aware of his inner struggle. Siri was curled up on his other side, reading a scroll from Joseph’s personal store in his saddlebags. The Messenger loved reading, and so did his sister.

Damin glanced at her briefly and understood she was the one who would gift to him the Ilfin image. Not only was she relaxed and therefore open, but she would understand why he delved her if she sensed an invasion into her thoughts.

Lowering his chin to his chest, Damin closed his eyes and concentrated. Hopefully, the others would think he was in deep thought or dozing where he sat.

Siri’s mind was made of light. The brightness she had inside initially astonished him. His sister was a Healer indeed, and she walked in goodness. He smiled, loving her even more.

Then he saw it.

The image. He knew it was the one he sought, for he had not seen the like before. A silvery-blue curved triangle, a leaf at each point and inside, a triple curl design; it shimmered before his mind’s eye as a mark of benevolence.

A triskelion.

The Ilfin image was beautiful, and it filled him with joy. It meant there was nothing anyone needed to fear from those with that genesis. Even slave masters under this sign upon the plateau were redeemable. He hoped so anyway.

His inner joy threatened to overcome his outer self. Vibrations rippled over his skin. Lyra lifting her head slightly revealed she felt it as well. Of course, she understood why it was happening, and gently squeezed his thigh in support … and warning. No one was to become aware of his reaction.

Forcing motionlessness upon himself, Damin breathed as if entering a deeper kind of sleep. The continuing silence surrounding them told him no one suspected anything. Siri ruffled the parchment as she further unfurled it; she remained unaware also.

He focused next on Lyra and saw the triskelion immediately. Lyra and Siri had now established the pattern he sought when delving for Ilfin. Shifting his attention to Horin, he saw the entire image around him. He was overtly Ilfin and made no apology for it.

Attis, markedly quiet the last few days, was asleep not far from Lyra’s feet. The two of them spent a few hours talking on the ride towards this rest site, and Damin wondered now what passed between them. All he knew was that Attis seemed to have taken on the role of Lyra’s protector.

Abruptly he was wary of what the boy’s mind would reveal and chose instead to move on to Hanna. Her image was Ilfin. Joseph? He delved there, but nothing came forth. It meant the Messenger was blocking his quest, but probably not deliberately. He might be thinking on something else intensively, which created a barrier. He would return to Joseph.

Kay was next. Already Damin suspected the westerner might be the Glonu among them, based purely on where he came from, but the Ilfin image swirled inside him. Damin inhaled another slow breath, aware that he would now fully trust the man from the west.

Lifting his head, he gazed casually around. The night was dark, and their fire was therefore a bright and flickering manipulation of the inkiness they dwelled within. Siri allowed her scroll to furl and then curled into sleep. Hanna and Joseph started a murmuring conversation. He could not hear the words, but the low rumble served to push back the expectancy of the night.

Come, reader, join the great march today …

According to legend, a paradise awaits across the plains, a sanctuary that has survived every impact and every battle. Known as Arc, it is a place of isolation, a place to restart civilisation.

 A fireball grows ever larger in the skies and ancient enemies wing through the spaces; the world Massin is the gathering place for every omen of disaster. Every resident soul faces a choice. Time now to march south to the sanctuary, from the eastern highlands and the western seas, there to escape apocalypse, and the renewal of the war between the Ilfin and Glonu, or stay behind, hoping for a miracle.

 An Elemental will find the sanctuary – Lyra is gifted – a Warrior will defend the dispossessed – the boy Horin will grow up fast – and a Marsh Devil will lead them – Damin spends years preparing for this epic event – but it is also true that a sanctuary is not always a haven. Has the legend lied? Will Arc protect them?

 Prepare for an adventure that will journey from ancient ways of living into high-tech environments. Ilfin of Arc is a dystopian Fantasy tale that flies into star filled spaces – strap in!

ILFIN OF ARC

Caturday: 'That's my little toe!'

 

Ability to imagine

 

Where to find common Fae folk

 

Universe key

 

Argonath

 

525k+!

Thanks for visiting! You are appreciated!

xxx

Love under a willow tree

 

MINSTREL

Librocubicularist

 

My whole world

 

Year of the Wood Dragon

 

23rd Psalm: How English changed over a 1000 years

 

Excerpt: The Nowhere Sphere - Purity of the Unicorn

 

Frozen Forest

IT WAS EVEN COLDER when he headed out into the dark. Torrullin cursed as he stumbled over roots and branches, but dared not create light to ease his path. It took hours in the cold and dark to situate every trap in a wide perimeter and to draw the shield to encompass all, but eventually it was done, and he could head back. The lure of hot coffee was an all-consuming need.

As he approached the gate something new in the environment drew his attention. Until then the forest was filled with the usual night sounds - owls, scuttling creatures, a flap of wings, squeaks - and now everything was silent. That kind of quiet generally occurred when something new was in the region and the creatures waited to see whether it meant danger or something to be safely ignored. This silence went beyond what was there while he tramped around.

He could not see, but he could feel.

First came the silence, and he stood still.

Then came hot breath on his cheek.

He did not react, but his heart jerked wildly. He made no move.

Lorinin.

His heart thumped hard. Gods. “Who are you?”

What am I?

Fine. A game. What are you?

A slight glow appeared over his left shoulder. He turned with exaggerated care. The glow strengthened and took form. This time his heart threatened to burst from its confines.

You are surprised.

Torrullin placed a hand over his heart. More than words can describe.

It was a creature of myth and legend. The purity of goodness. The beauty of tireless strength. A unicorn. White, ethereal and incredibly beautiful. It made no sound as it moved to stand in his field of view, its hooves silvery and seeming to float above the forest floor. A horn of incredible simplicity glowed faintly blue from the centre of its forehead and long lashes swept over pale sad eyes as it studied Torrullin.

Many years ago, the little flower needed aid.

Rose. You created her citadel.

I could not feed her. I wish I could have fed her.

She survived. Today she is strong.

I am glad.

Is this your domain? Torrullin asked.

We do not claim domain, Lorinin. We are and we are not.

In a nowhere place, everything is possible.

 At the time of Tianoman Valla’s Naming, a blue sphere hovers in the scrying bowl, along with a silver cathron in an ebony floor. The time for that future is due, for beyond realms and the known universe, a mighty manipulation commences, and it assumes the form of blue spherical space.

 This is a Nowhere Sphere.

Tianoman is kidnapped by an enemy believed dead, and taken to the place where a silver cathron knocker lurks in the darkness of a polished surface, where also a crucible swirls in vapour, creating within an entity that cannot be permitted life.

An entire planet is vaporised, and souls scream for release in the aftermath. As Torrullin Valla’s memory returns after the event on Echolone, his ability to forgive is buried in the layers time has laid down, and now he needs to care, to feel again, to forgive. He must travel the void created by anti-matter to find not only Tianoman and the other Vallas, but also Elianas Danae, for he will suffer most.

In Nowhere, everything that moves in hearts, minds and souls will become the answers Torrullin requires to again known himself. It will also unmask the Danae.

THE NOWHERE SPHERE

Do.Not.Disturb

 

An honour

 

Caturday: Parisian kitty

 

Those doggie eyes!

 

Generation X

😁😁

 

VIAN latest: Grotto and Palisade

Almost at 20k for VIAN: Winter of the Unicorn. Here's the latest 2 images serving as inspiration:

Your unique brand of magic

 

Two places you need to go often

 

A Romantic Fairy Tale

 

On the banks of a river, a boy sees and hears a girl laughing, the most glorious music, and falls in love. Time, however, is not the same for them. Erin is human; Kell is something other.

 Kell watches her from the shadows under the willow at the water’s edge, refusing to surrender to their differences. For Erin he plays the most beautiful music, for he may never speak to her and she cannot ever see him. Music becomes their words.

 Love, however, cannot measure time. The minstrel maintains his vigil; his muse listens for his song, and both move through the years alone, until the day something changes …

MINSTREL OF THE WATER WILLOW