“Tell me, daddy. Tell me about before it came.” 
The father had led the young girl to a trickling stream. She had always loved the river. It was on the edge of their land and a spot where they could see the stars. He started a small fire and laid her down to where she could just touch the water rolling over the rocks. 
“Before? How long before, dear child?” 
She smiled and looked up at the starry sky. “At the beginning, before we went to the trees!” 
Her father began to light a fire with the small amount of kindling he had brought with them. He stacked wood and after the flames caught, tossed other sticks on top of it.
“It was a grand time. The gods were within the world. We were new to it as well. Magic was alive and strong, flowing through the air like fairies do near our home.” 
The little girl smiled as her father paused. “Keep going!” she begged. 
He set a pot of water with several herbs on the burning wood. The fire was not large, but they did not have much time. He had to be sure the fire was hot enough to infuse the water. He had picked a lovely bouquet of chamomile earlier in the evening. His daughter loved chamomile. She twiddled a flower near the edge of the stream and wasn’t watching him. Before the left, he had ginger from the woods near the old city and a small bag fairy dust that remained behind as the last fairies disappeared. 
He also had some extra herbs, he hid those from his daughter. He was careful to add them in between her glances toward him. She laughed as she tried to take a peak at what he was putting in.They liked to play a game where she guessed what kind of tea and he would make tonight no different. 
As the water began to slowly steam, she twirled and danced before him.
“Daddy! What other stories can you tell me about then?” 
He pondered for a moment, staring into the slowly bubbling pot. He had many fond memories and he fought back tears as he thought of his love, the girls mother, already taken from them.
“Before it came, your mother use to take you to the fields near the glowing trees. It was nights just liked this, where the summer wind blew through her hair and your giggles filled the air, we would spend time beneath the heavens.” 
“I remember that! I remember the moon being so bright!” 
The world had become less of a place since then. It was dangerous to be out at night, especially, on nights with moons like this. They were always looking for their kind of people. They were always hunting for elves. 
“Daddy, daddy, what else can you tell me?” 
The tea was done. He had two wooden cups that he poured the herbal tea into before sweetening with a dab of honey. 
“I will tell you, but first I wish you to drink my tea and for us to play our favorite game.” 
“I know what you want and I saw you sneak in ingredients! I can still guess it!” 
He smiled at her as she sipped it. She took one sip and grinned. “Chamomile! My favorite!” 
He laughed, “Very good, my child.”
She took another sip and he forced a smile, holding back his own tears. Her back was to the fires that had begun in the distance. 
“Ginger root!” 
He laughed and then gulped, “Very good.” 
The fires spread quickly. The elven homes built into the great woods were burning. They would soon come towards them. His daughter began to sit up but he placed his fingers to her lips and shook his head. 
“Drink more and tell me what you taste.”
She took another large sip. “Honey and… daddy?” 
She had laid back flat and turned towards the river. She reached out to the stream. 
“Yes, my child?” I ask, but I already know.
“I can feel something, something inside me. I will never grow as others. I feel... do… do I… go to… mommy… now?” 
He placed his hands on hers. It had taken hold in her some time ago. The sickness, the plaque of their people that had already claimed so many. But it was not what took her now. He feared those that hunted them. They were coming. They had come for so many of them already. The two elves could not escape the horrid genocide against their kind. 
“Yes, we both go to mommy.” 
He took a large gulp of his tea as he watched his daughter’s hand fall into the water as her other released her cup, spilling her tainted tea on the ground. She had always loved the river. He made sure she was near it when they were both to see their last. He laid his head on her chest as he saw them staring at them. 
His vision faded. 

A stout legionnaire stood above the father and daughter. He sheathed his sword. 
“These elves are already dead. Move to the next village and for the glory of men, we will destroy all of them before their sickness spreads. The gods be with us. We kill them to protect our own.” 
The legionnaires left the two elves. Heading further into the lands to seek out the last of those they deemed evil. The magic in the world was fading and would soon be gone.
The race of men had used the perfect poison and many more would die before the end.

Thank you for reading this week's entry! Join me next week for another flash fiction story!

Magic in the Saints of Wura


While editing book three in the Saints of Wura series, I’ve felt compelled to write of a central subject in the book:  Magic, and arcane lore in general. There are minor spoilers below but nothing too big. Yes, if you haven’t read book one yet, I will reveal that magic does exist and becomes a central component to the plot.

First, magic is in everything that exists. It exists as a unifying force and can be used for either good or evil and is indiscriminate to such. The largest barrier to the use of magic is the channeling device used and the mental capacity of the user.

Channeling Devices

All users of magic must use a device of some form to channel magic. Be it a wand, amulet, book, or staff, magic cannot be tapped without a device except in the case of the race known as the Rusis. There is a reason, however, they were almost completely destroyed well before other races of magic… more on that later.

At the time of Winemaker of the North, the only newly created channeling devices were staffs, grown from The Grove in the realm of the Sea-god Meredaas. The staffs sprouted from the trees could then be enriched by the power of the sea and were used in the Priory of Kel and Temple of Wura in Elinathrond. But these were particularly limited. The Order of Wura are normal men but ones that swear fealty to the god Wura. Other than producing light and containing the ability to “stun” an opponent, their staffs allow the user to do no more.  

The staffs used by the Priors of Kel, however, are much more powerful. Healing, telekinesis, and the destructive blasts of fire seen in the siege of Elinathrond near the end of book one, reveal that the war-god Kel blesses his followers with true power. Limited only by their master in book one (the Priory Master Naskin whose staff is the actual staff of the war-god) the priors are the most powerful wielders of channeling devices at this time in history. The staff of Kel itself is one of the god devices and one of two in Winemaker of the North. (Sviska’s dagger, with the ability to manipulate water, is a device of the sea-god.)

The Rusis

The race known as the Rusis are the masters of elemental magic and at one time were the principle ruler within the lands. They had only one city but many grand masters of their craft. Fire, ice, lightning, earth, the elemental magic useable by this race, are essentially as simple as breathing to them, at least at lower levels. The one Rusis that remains is Garoa, but his abilities are limited in Elinathrond until given his gift by Brethor in preparation to taking the mantle as a Saint. Though the Rusis do not need channeling devices, they are weakened by its use and it would seem that the only internal way to push pass this weakness is channeling inner power of the heart (fear, greed, rage, etc.) That being said, it is obvious in Winemaker of the North, Garoa uses most of his strength to melt the floor of the Estate as the 1st Legion pursues them in the western wing. A contrast to this weakness is in Arcane Awakening at the cliffs of Tuonia where he is able to summon massive whips of fire knocking back rank after rank of legionnaires after the events there…okay, that is enough, no more plot hints here!

More on the Rusis people themselves, their abilities made them to me much more feared and their seeking for domination began a war that resulted in the scattering of their peoples…

So far, we have talked of channeling devices and the people that can use elemental magic with ease, but of a more particular interest, especially to book three, is the other type of magic…

The power of the mind and the Dwemhar people

There is little I can say of this. Even within the series, I’ve spoken very little of the Dwemhar. Pure bloods of the Dwemhar, at this time, have not been revealed. But half-bloods do exist. The Dwemhar were a chief race but of a purer form than even the elves. The Dwemhar were above the use of elemental magic and closer to the gods in capacity at full form. Full form Dwemhar, perhaps better termed as reaching the state of Enlightment in our world, would need little to dominate their enemies, that being said, once in full form, they would not have the same desires that became the pitfall to the Rusis race. This is a key and one to pay attention to in the development between book one and book three.

The Dwemhar are something I plan to expand on in future books. Just as I expand on the half-elf Kealin’s story in an upcoming book, my future plans will lead to a few different roads in the world building thus far and I’m excited to share it with you.

If you have any questions or thoughts, drop a line in the comments below and by all means feel free to read more in the Saints of Wura books!

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