The Fire (Siege Part 3)

As the rail gun bullets continued their relentless bombardment on the Toraun battle cruise it became evident that Boschivo had a big problem. The battle cruiser swung around and released its own barrage on the land based rail gun. The rail gun’s own force field glistened as each of the laser weapons hit. Bits of tree started on fire and then started a blaze that would one day be known as the Great Fire of 2187. Now, this would mean that someone lived to write the history of the Great Fire of 2187 so I’ve given a vital hint into the story of Boschivo. You might think that this hint helps alleviate the immense stress that you are feeling right now and it may make you wonder at how the tension will continue without, but I guarantee that a twist is soon to happen. Well, wait, that probably wasn’t a good idea to let you know about the twist, but oh well.

Now, while this great battle raged close by the shack, Musaafir cowered in the corner with his hands cupped over his ears. Sarina, on the other hand, showed more courage and moved her sister, then closed the window. She moved over to Musaafir and stooped down next to him. This might be a good time to explain a couple of ways a person might deal with a person in shock. You could do the slap in the face to try and snap the individual out of it. Another way is to help the individual feel grounded and focus in on their sensations. The second way is a lot nicer and in the long run is going to help the individual better. It’s kind of the, teach a person to fish. Where as the first way is much quicker and hands the person the fish, but can cause a little damage.

The slap echoed off the walls and Musaafir instantly put his hand to his face. His hand felt cold on his face and he blinked several times until he saw Sarina raise her hand again. “I, I’m fine,” Musaafir whimpered as he raised his hands to defend himself.

Sarina’s eyes glowered as she stared down at Musaafir and she sputtered in rage, “He found us. We need to go. Now.”  Musaafir nodded and Sarina pulled him up by his armpits and pushed him to the computer. “Take us somewhere they can’t find us.”

Musaafir studied the blinking cursor. “Where, where can we go that they won’t find us?” He put his hands to the side of his head and pulled at the white hair. He dropped his hands in front of his face and turned his gaze to the wrinkled hands. “What have I done?”

Sarina’s footfalls fell behind him and brought him back to the pounding that sounded all around him. “Think. There has to be a way.”

The screen changed as Musaafir put his hands to the keyboard and typed in the user name and password. He smiled as the screen turned into the familiar sight of worlds in the universe. He zoomed in on another green planet and pressed the screen. “You better get Alex.”

Toraun Battle Cruiser (Siege Part 2)

The blast of the rail gun made even the thunder quiver as its energy built and finally exploded forth. The metal shot rang true as it screamed through the air, ripping through cloud and rain alike. It seemed nothing could stop the mighty rail gun shot until something did. It seems to be that way with a lot of things. There is always an end to everything. No matter how powerful, strong, kind, evil, good, or triumphant a person, place, or thing may be, they all have an end. And yes, the mighty rail gun bullet that sung its way through the atmosphere at tremendous speed met its end. Now if you can imagine a watermelon falling from the tallest building and landing on the hard cement below. Well then you can imagine what happened to this innocent little, I mean monstrous rail gun bullet.

Now like this mighty bullet, well, before it slammed into the force field of the Toraun ship that is. Oh dang it, I just gave away the cliffhanger. Just forget that I wrote that last line and continue on like nothing happened. As I was saying. Like the mighty rail gun bullet, it gained inspiration from somewhere. Well probably not, but work with me on this as I need to work in the daily prompt for the blog challenge. I too have gained inspiration from others. One of the trilogies that has most influenced me has been the Dragonlance trilogy. I fell in love with the characters from the very get go. I loved their adventure and cried when a certain individual died. Not going to give that one away so don’t bother. Another trilogy that greatly influenced me was the Lord of The Rings trilogy. Yes, I actually read them and didn’t just watch the movies. I think this is why I write trilogies. I want that epic journey to go on and to have the depth that I found in Dragonlance and The Lord of The Rings. My other inspiration comes from Isaac Asimov. I try to weave together the beauty of magic with the cutting edge of technology. There you have it my inspiration and because it’s late and I already gave up the cliffhanger I’m going to sleep. Have a great nights rest!

The Rail Gun (Siege Part 1)

With a crash the thunder erupted outside the shack. Dark clouds rushed over the sun and the wind whacked the shutters against the walls of the wood shack. Musaafir looked at his two guests, realizing that he may have a made a grave mistake. A note from his father warned him of this very thing and here he’d gone and done it. The two women sat on a bench under the open window. Their eyes told him everything he needed to know about how much harm he’d brought to them. He should have just left them there. Besides, how was he to blame that he’d stumbled onto a planet that had an evil God waiting for any reason at all to destroy the people. He fumbled with the mouse next to the screen and mumbled to himself to avoid their glares. Finally, when the rain started to blow in through the open window and he couldn’t take it any longer he blurted out, “It’s not my fault! The dumb bird attacked me. I had to defend myself.” When neither responded, he added, “Well didn’t I?”

“No, no you didn’t need to defend yourself. That’s the problem,” Sarina said resolutely. She looked over at her sister, then reached up and closed the window to stop the rain from encroaching on their little bit of safety. “And you,” she whispered, “Why did you have to let him in.”

Now up to this point there is no way that Sarina could even imagine why her sister would let a stranger in, but you and I can guess as to the reason why. Plot. Yes I said it. It is all about the plot and story. I mean really, it would not be that exciting of a story if Musaafir had died, because he didn’t defend himself or because Alex didn’t let him in. Seriously, Sarina, have you never read a novel? Now, don’t think I’m crazy. Of course I’m not really talking to Sarina but just making a point about plot. And while I’m on the subject let’s talk a little about how I try to better my writing skills. Many of you may say, “What writing skills?” Well, all I have to say to you is… well nothing I guess, but anyway one of my favorite things to do to better my writing skills is to go to critique groups. Not the ones that just tell you you’re doing an amazing job. And definitely not the ones that cut you down so they feel better about their writing. No, the ones I enjoy are the ones that do both. They let you know how to improve and carefully build you up at the same time to match your skill. This is so nice. Now back to the story. Not sure where it’s going to go from here, but I’m sure it’ll go somewhere. So, onward, ever onward.

Musaafir looked down. The discomfort grew, kind of like when you have an itch in your nose and you know that you’re about to sneeze and it’s in the middle of a very serious lecture. That’s how Musaafir felt at that very moment. Then something happened that saved him, and this story. The plot thickened. A loud bang rang through the woods toward the shack. The bang had not been heard on Musaafir’s world for quite some time. It was the sound of a gun. Now don’t get me wrong, people still hunted and made sport, but this was a different type of bang. It came from the old defense tower where the rail gun had lay still for eons.

Back To The Shack (Toraun Part 16)

As the howl pierced Musaafir’s eardrums he took the opportunity to stop and think of what he had just done. There were so many possibilities of what would happen to the women as they exploded from their existence into his existence. They could just as easily be blasted to tiny little space particles as they could be turned back in age as Musaafir did each time he went to a new place. Now this just wouldn’t be fun at all having to take care of two toddlers or even worse two infants. What if they were just blubbery, tiny, balls of flesh with eyes nose and mouths? Or ….

Now as you might imagine the time it takes for Musaafir to go from one place to the next is very short; in fact it was so short he really didn’t have a chance to finish his thoughts before the three, yes three. I mean let’s think about this for just a second. If only Musaafir made it back then that wouldn’t make for that great of a story at all. Well, I suppose it would tie up some loose ends and we could just move onto something new and exciting on yet another planet, but really what would be the point of that. I mean here I spend pages and hours of time talking about two young ladies and then go and kill them… I mean… well maybe… I mean no. No. No. that won’t do at all and so…

The three humans crashed into Musaafir’s small cabin all in a heap and instantly Sarina jumped to her feet with her sword drawn. She examined the room and rested her eyes on the flashing cursor on the monitor sitting on top of Musaafir’s desk. Now if you are just joining us or have forgotten the stool that once stood in front of that monitor no longer exists because… No I won’t tell you why you should go back and read the first story so that you can really get to know Musaafir better. And while we’re talking about it I would just like to mention the second prompt in the blogging challenge which is why did you begin writing. It’s really quite a fascinating tale. I was going to school to be a school psychologist and as I struggled to feed my starving family I got the idea that I should just write a novel and then I’d be able to feed my family. There you have it. That’s all that’s to it. I wanted to feed my poor starving children. So go out and support me so they don’t starve and buy all my books on Amazon.com. I mean seriously it would only cost you around $10.00 to buy all of my books. So you go without coffee for a couple of days boohoo… I mean really, they are good books and yes, get your drinks of choice while you’re at it.

A groan came from under Musaafir and before he could react Sarina yanked him off of Alex and threw him back like he weighed nothing more than a rag doll. She knelt down next to Alex and held her head up softly. “Water,” Alex whispered.

Sarina turned to Musaafir and really looked at him for the first time since they arrived in the shack. The shock on her face would have made the captain on the Titanic look like he had hit nothing more than a large chunk of ice. Oh wait that’s what he did hit and really is that an appropriate comparison. Oh well, read with caution and “No Offense.” You no that really is crazy how we can say some pretty offensive things just by saying “No offense, but…”

Musaafir smiled slightly to help show some of the charm he must have had when he had visited the girl’s homeland and said, “There’s some water over there.” Musaafir pointed to a tap and nodded. He climbed to his feet, the aches returned and he walked to the sink with a hand on his back. “It’s a hard thing coming home after one of my adventures and having to put on this old body once again, but it beats being killed by a steam hound.” 

Haematite (Toraun Part 15)

In life, things change, sometimes rapidly and sometimes slowly, in the case of Musaafir and at this particular point in his time, his entire world changed in much less time that it is taking me to write this sentence. You see, as I write this sentence I rewrite it several times just to get the right words down to create the perfect atmosphere that draws readers in, to learn more about the story. This, I think, is the same reason that I want to get out of the blogging challenge. Blogging Challenge. What are you talking about? I thought we were talking about Musaafir and change in life. Well, you see, I belong to an amazing group here in Arizona that is currently encouraging all of its members to participate in a blogging challenge in which they write for 35 days straight. Check it out here (https://authorblogchallenge.wordpress.com/) . I hope that by doing this I will capture the attention of many others who love to read and get caught up in stories. I hope that it will help me get back into the groove of writing on a daily basis and that I will meet my goals of getting my next novel finished. So, that is my goal for accepting the challenge of writing for 35 days straight. Now, what does this have to do with Musaafir you might ask. Well I’ll tell you. I have abandoned Musaafir for far too long and so this challenge will give me the opportunity to continue his story. So, without further ado, we shall return to his moment of change that was much quicker than it took me to explain.

As the heart of the Steam hound died its magic collided with Alex’s own magic causing an incredible shock to Alex’s own heart and she collapsed to the ground. The heart, now black and hard, fell from Sarina’s hand and landed with a thud on the cold ground next to Musaafir’s face. The stench however had not left, which made Musaafir’s gag reflex go into overdrive and he reached his hand to his mouth to stop the explosion that thankfully never came. He twisted and turned in the broken window and glass to try to avoid the stench, but to no avail, until finally the window pane cracked and he pulled himself away from the bloody mess he’d recently lay in. As he pulled himself to his feet with the little remaining energy he could muster, he heard what he had most dreaded to hear at that moment. Sarina’s wail matched that of a banshee, well what he supposed a banshee’s wail would sound like. Musaafir had never really heard a banshee wail, he just assumed that one would sound like the wail that escaped Sarina’s soul.

He turned. Stumbled. Pulled himself up once again and reached the two sisters with one giant step. Remember, he was right next to them so he really didn’t have far to go. This is important to remember because if I were to write something that sounded like it was farther away like he crested the mountain and rushed down to the two girls then someone would surely let me know that that was not possible because the heart dropped from Sarina’s hand and landed next to Musaafir’s face. Anyway, just making sure you all know that I remembered that little tidbit of information. But, now, on with the story.

Musaafir reached down and touched Sarina gently on the shoulder as she held her sister in her arms. He touched her gently, not exactly sure of the proper protocol in this instance and still being a bit frightened of the girl, didn’t want to alarm her. She pulled Alex closer to her and the wailing continued for some time until it began to grow a little on Musaafir’s nerves. Finally, when he thought he could stand it any longer it stopped just as suddenly as it began. A cough came from Alex’s petite mouth, then a whisper, and finally a word, “Escape.”

A pause followed the single word by both Sarina and Musaafir. Sarina studied the expressionless look on her sister’s face then looked back to Musaafir, who had a quizzical look on his own face. “Haematite,” Sarina whispered. She turned back to Alex and said, “Haematite. What do you mean?”

Alex’s eye’s opened with a flutter and her eyes rolled back into her head. She opened her mouth several times to try and voice what rolled through her mind with no gain. A howl, now familiar to Musaafir since arriving, sounded in the distance. “We need to go,” Musaafir spoke softly, still not wanting to interrupt Sarina for fear her wrath would turn on him.

Regrettably for Musaafir it still did. “There’s no where to go.” Luckily she still held Alex in her arms or her words would have ended with a sword through Musaafir’s heart. Even so the daggers that lanced out from her glower pretty much did the same thing.

Musaafir stumbled back and tripped over the window frame and fell cutting himself several more times. He yelped and jumped back to his feet. A second howl brought him to action much quicker than one would anticipate from such a beaten up individual and he said through shaky voice, “You can come home with me. We can at least figure out what to do there.”

Sarina started then stopped as her sister’s ragged breath came quicker. She turned back to Alex and pushed her hair from her face. She turned back as the wind picked up and the howls grew louder. “If you can save us, do it quickly.” Musaafir nodded and stepped forward swiftly as he pulled the device from his pocket. He put his hand gently on Sarina’s shoulder once again and pressed a button on the device. Now this is the first time that he had ever tried to bring someone back with him before so as the lights flashed and the wind howled around him his heart stopped as he heard the howl of ….

Now as I almost wrapped this up I thought to myself how fun it would be to leave everyone on a cliffhanger. So why not, there’s always tomorrow. And yes, there will be more to the story tomorrow. 

Order of The Rose: White Petal

So after many years of dreaming and hoping and oh yeah a little work. I'm excited to announce the final chapter of the Order of The Rose trilogy. It has been a long journey with a lot of support and help and some disappointments. I'm hoping that all you out there in digital land will take a minute or two (literally it shouldn't take more than that) to share the exciting new. It's up for pre-order on Amazon and you'll be the first to read it. So you have nine days to read book one and two before book 3 is available on the 30th. 

So here's the deal for all those who have not yet purchased book 1. If you show proof of purchase of the pre-order of book 3 I'll give you book 1 for free!! Yes you read that right book 1 is free and all you have to do is purchase the pre-order of book 3. Have an amazing day and press the link below and buy now!!! Yes now. No more reading, just push the link and buy it now. Seriously. Go ahead, bye bye now. Press the link it won't hurt I promise I mean what would you normally do with $2.99 anyways? Okay have fun reading I'm going to watch a show... I mean read a book...

Click here to purchase the best book you've ever read before!!

If you don't trust me and still haven't clicked the link an excerpt is below, but if I was you I wouldn't even bother, because you're going to buy it anyway and then you'll have to find your spot and that could just be annoying.

Order of The Rose: White Petal excerpt.

Chapter 1:

The wheel spun out of Tom's hands as the blast knocked him violently to the ground. He reached to the side of his head. Blood trailed down the side of his face. He tried to wipe it away but only succeeded in smearing it over his cheek. He looked at his blood stained hand. How did they find us? They had reached the place of power the night before. The week of travel from the volcano had been fraught with one attack after another. The world spun as he looked away from his hand and up at the once white mast now stained black. Jagged tears ran down the length of it and the sheet gaped in the wind.

Another blast shook the ship, bringing Tom back to the battle that raged all around him. He glanced down the stairs of the poop deck just as a blast of flame and smoke shot from the barrel of Vick's rifle. The rifle kicked back and then lowered back belching another stream of fire and smoke from its metal mouth. A second later a scream answered the belch. Tom scrambled to his feet and grabbed the wheel, once again pulling the huge ship broadside to the incoming blimp. Now Saul who manned the large, cannon like gun on the starboard side had a clear shot.

Saul had explained to Tom at one point that the gun worked like a cannon but could shoot much faster without needing to be reloaded in between shots. Saul pulled the trigger. A barrage of huge balls surged toward the blimp. The balls tore huge holes in the balloon and side of the cabin and it started a long descent to the ground. Regrettably, several of its onboard planes had already launched and now circled the companion’s airship.

Tom hardly felt the tug from his energy reserves as Aithnea pulled from him. She used the energy to mix with her own energy in order to cause devastating results with her magic. Aithnea, like others of the Sisterhood, relied on a male counterpart in order to manifest the energy that swelled within them. Tom looked toward Aithnea just as a red dragon sprouted from her outstretched hand. He watched the beast wing toward the biplane that flew in its path. The dragon burst into flames as it engulfed the biplane. The pilot screamed as the inferno enveloped him and he struggled to free himself from the plane only to fall to his death far below. Slowly Tom’s eyes returned to Aithnea. Sweat dripped from her brow, and his heart ached, knowing that she must be at the end of her own reserves.

Just then another biplane swooped under the belly of the ship, narrowly evading the pounding from Saul's gun as it hammered out another barrage of cannon shells. The plane banked to the right coming up on the rear of the ship and unleashed its own barrage of smaller shot onto the deck where Tom stood. Several of the bullets exploded into the console smashing several of the blinking lights. Another pierced Tom's left shoulder before he could raise a shield to block the rest of the bullets. The plane then roared over the top of them with white plumes of steam trailing after it.

Blue Fire (Toraun Part 14)

In the long history of man there have been many travelers. Some of them traveled no more than a few feet while others have traveled light-years and still others have traveled in time. Musaafir had only recently started to travel. His mother had given him the computer as a gift and told him that his father before him had used it. His father passed away several years before and so when he received the computer he quickly learned to use the ancient device. Once he learned what it could do he had quickly moved it out of his home and up to his cabin. The cabin did not compare in the least to his own home in the city, but he never had visitors drop by expectantly either. To those who asked why he left the city so frequently, he told that he found solace in the mountains.

Now, while he lay on the ground in Toraun, in a window sill he figured that his mountain cabin would be the perfect place for these two young women to stay. Besides, who wouldn’t want to help them out, especially since they had just saved his life? So, at this very moment Musaafir’s life changed forever. Some might say for the good and others would say for the worse. I’ll let you decide for yourself.

Alex chewed on her lip for a moment while she stared at the object in Sarina’s hand. The steam hound had a heart that ran off magic and as long as the magic continued to flow the heart would continue to beat. “Alex, you need to try and put magic into it or it’s going to go out,” Sarina said sternly. Alex looked at the bloody heart and nearly lost her stomach. Sarina wouldn’t have anything of the sort happen at this time and held the heart even closer. “You will do this or the entire town will be destroyed.”

The heart stunk. Seriously, it smelt bad and Alex had a right to lose her stomach over it. In fact I’m about to lose my own stomach as I write this, but since she had to be strong, I’ll be strong as well. And quite frankly so should you. Alex stood up and wiped her mouth and said slowly, “I’ll try.” She put the tips of her fingers on the heart and jerked back quick as it beat. She even yelped a little. Sarina glared at her. Alex shrugged then reached back to the heart and placed her fingers on the heart again. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep and almost choked on the stench. She shook her head and tried again. This time she turned her head from the heart and breathed in again then out. The magic in her had been unique to her and only a few others.

The origin of magic came from an unknown source or origin for that matter. It had come to Alex when she had only been a little child. The magic manifested in people in different ways. For her it had come in the form of blue fire. Now, as she held that heart in the tips of her fingers a funny thing happened.

See magic tends to react in odd ways depending on what’s happening at that moment and of course on how the writer wants the story to go. And at this particular moment both of those things happened, simultaneously. Yes, you might call fowl or something like that, but let’s face the facts I’m the writer and I’ll write it however I like. Wait, hold on that came out really bad. What I meant to say is that I will make sure that as I write the story I will follow the rules and hold true to the magic as I create it and yadda, yadda, yadda. Truthfully, though magic does act strangely and at this moment a very odd thing happened. You see, just at the very moment that Alex pushed her magic from her own being into the heart of the steam hound the heart died. When the heart died it released its magic and because Alex’s own magic had already started to enter the heart the channel between her and the heart opened. Kind of like a straw. Yeah that’s it just like a straw. Only this straw didn’t have milk or pop or some other kind of liquid running through it, it had magic running through it. Alex jerked back as the magic entered into her soul and fell to the ground unconscious.

The Tear (Toraun Part 13)

“Listen to me,” Sarina said. “We need to act quickly.” She shook Alex. “Are you listening to me?” By this time the realization of what they had done sunk in and Alex zoned. She just stood there and stared threw her sister at the steam hand. Its leg twitched. Alex lifted her hand the fire returned, but before she could release the fire, Sarina knocked her hand down. “Alex, we can get out of this. I promise you.” The tension left Sarina’s body and she relaxed. “We can do this.”

“Help,” Musaafir moaned.

Alex looked back at him her face went from white to red almost instantly. “This is your fault.” She stomped toward him. “You did this and now we’re all dead.” Musaafir could only look up at her as he lifted his hand up in front of his face. When she stepped inches from his face she leaned down low. Even though she whispered, the force of her words hit hard. Like a tornado. “You have doomed me, my sister and all of our people. Because of your carelessness you’ve destroyed an entire people.”

The trembles that ran up and down Musaafir’s body stopped. Now, Musaafir had gone on adventures before. He would walk through the lands and occasionally meet new people, but he had never done anything more than talk to them. He thought of himself as a good person and really tried to do his best to help those around him. He never wanted to harm others. Especially those he visited. Now, the realization of the damage that he may have caused distracted him from the pain. Thoughts of his past adventures flashed through his mind and he realized how careless he had been. He moaned again, but this time he moaned not for himself, but for all the people he may have hurt. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“What? You’re sorry. That doesn’t cut it. You need to fix this,” Alex whispered. Her whisper changed and grew even softer, but it cut even deeper. Musaafir’s heart broke completely as a tear dropped out of Alex’s eye and end its journey on his cheek. He couldn’t stop the tears that came to his own eyes.

Sometimes, even in comedies a message needs to be taught. Hopefully, we can all learn from Musaafir’s lack of thought for how his actions affect those around him. Now, of course I would like to add caution to this. We can also put way to much thought into our actions, but we must take responsibility for those actions. Thankfully, there are always consequences for actions. Those that bring greater happiness and those that bring greater sadness.

Sarina put her hand softly on Alex’s shoulder and said gently, “It’ll be okay. We can still protect our people.” She held out her hand in front of Alex’s face. “As long as we hold onto this and keep it alive. He’ll continue to search for us.”

Musaafir’s face brightened and he said, “You can come with me. He’ll never be able to find us where I’m from.” His face screwed up when he realized he didn’t know who the he was.

Death and Life (Toraun Part 12)

Toraunians pride themselves on their loyalty to their society and find that above all else community comes first. This is why, at this moment, Alex’s and Sarina’s faces drained of all color as they stared at the almost dead steam hound. They had just about killed one of Toranis’ hounds.

Toranis loved to tinker with metal, steam and a little bit of magic. He made some of the most amazing creations, but of all of them his favorite creations were those patterned after animals. He generally did not allow them near the Toraunians, because he did not want to cause too much trouble. However, on occasion he did let them loose on those who dared to leave his tiny flock. You see Toranis really isn’t that powerful of a God. In fact other Gods didn’t even recognize him as a God, because of his small following. This is why he came to Toraun in the first place. To establish a following. He has one small problem though, he cares more about his steam/metal/magic creations than he does of his followers. This of course is a problem when the way to recognition of Godhood is qualified by the number of your followers. So, Toranis continues to be rejected from the other Gods, uninvited to the Godly parties and balls, and completely left off all the other Gods birthday lists. Birthday lists? Yes you heard me right. The birthday of a God is the great day that they get added to the Birthday list and are recognized as a God. Goal: To be added to that birthday list. Problem: Enjoys playing with his creations more than gathering his followers.

This leads us back to a very important point. Toranis cares a lot more about his steam hound than he does little old Alex and her sister and even less about Musaafir. Here the two sisters stood dumbfounded that they had killed his creation. Well not killed but mostly killed. You see it still whimpered and whined as its gears whirred and its water and oil leaked all over the ground. “Maybe we can fix it,” Alex said. Sarina just gave her one of those, you’re an idiot looks, then looked at Musaafir still trapped in the window. This did help her mood a little. Alex, on the other hand,  threw her hands in the air and stomped back and forth as she muttered to herself, “Why did he have to knock on my door?” That really is a fair question to ask in her case and could use some explaining. But, not at this time.

Instead, let’s talk about an amazing opportunity everyone has at this moment. Yes, at this very moment. That is, if you are reading this on December 10^th – 11^th of 2014. Book one in my amazing, awesome, wonderful, spectacular trilogy is available on Amazon.com for free. Yes you heard me right folks. It’s free for the next couple of days and will give you hours of enjoyment and pleasure. You will be swept off your feet into a magical world.

“Not as magical as my adventure,” Musaafir interjects.

Hush Musaafir. I’m the writer and of course it’s more magical and exciting than your adventure. Otherwise, I’d be making money off your story and not the story of Tom.

“Tom. Tom, that’s all I hear about and of course that whiney Aithnea. I mean seriously the whole story doesn’t make sense. Have you ever seen those short films called How it should have ended?” Mussafir asks.

Stop, stop. You know I can completely destroy you. The next seen could go something like this; Alex in her wrath shoots a fireball at Musaafir frying him nicely. Musaafir grumbles and leaves the scene. Okay where was I? Never mind. I’m completely off kilter due to the interruption, so just go pick up book one of the Order of The Rose trilogy, Forsaken Petal, for free by clicking on this link. Yes the orange word that says link.

Let’s get back to the story so Musaafir doesn’t feel too bad. I guess I should feel sorry for him considering he is lying on the ground in a window right now.

Thankfully as long as energy continues to flow through the steam hound its life beacon stays on, but once that dies all bets are off. Sarina stepped in front of Alex and puts both hands on her shoulder. “You might be onto something.”

NOTE: I did notice an error on the last post and have corrected it. Please, keep in mind that I slave all day at a school and then come home to write for a few hours. Wait a minute I don’t need to explain I’m the writer not you you’re just the reader. On the other hand hopefully you will be buying my book so I better be nice. I’m so sorry for any errors I really try hard, but occasionally will miss a few. Wait, wait, wait. If there are errors then you are mistaken not me. Remember I’m the writer not you.

Silver Moon (Toraun Part 11)

Blood drizzled down Musaafir’s cheek and dribbled onto the ground below. He moaned. You know, one of those moans that tells everyone how hurt you are and that you really don’t care if you ever move again. That kind of moan, Musaafir only reserved for the most painful of times. He wouldn’t just let a moan like that escape his mouth for any little reason. Well, actually as you are starting to get to know Mussaafir you can probably guess that he moans more than the average guy. But let’s give him the benefit of the doubt this time. I mean really, did you just dive through a window? No, I didn’t think so. So here’s Musaafir lying on the cold, hard ground outside a window, while Alex and her sister are wondering at the noise. Alex rushed to the kitchen where Mussafir had a fight with the window. Her sister, on the other hand, ran to the outside of the house and peered around the corner. Alex’s sister just stared at the hapless Mussafir as he laid on the ground. He moaned a second time and she did the unthinkable. She burst out in laughter. Not the little spiff of a laughter. You know the one that embarrasses you because it sounds like snort. No, not one of those laughs. One of those laughs could have been mistaken for something else and saved Mussafir a world of embarrassment. No, this laugh made her fall to the ground and roll back and forth in uncontrollable laughter. Alex on the other hand, gave one of those spiff laughs and thankfully, as you will find out sometime down the road, Musaafir didn’t hear her laugh, at this, his time of unbearable pain.

Now, before you get all upset at the sisters laughing at Mussafir in his time of pain, you need to understand he looked pretty funny. In fact, as I write this I can’t help but smile at the predicament that Mussafir got himself into. Here he is in an unknown land with a steam hound howling in the night and he jumps out the window and traps himself. You see this window had some crossbeams that ran across it and divided the window into four parts. Mussafir broke the middle vertical board. This allowed for his right arm and head to go through the window so that when his chest squeezed through the frame it squeezed back and popped out of the house. This stopped his momentum, which left his head and forearm resting on the ground while his bottom half hung inside the house. This sight would have left both sisters on the ground laughing if it hadn’t been for the howl.

This scene may make you laugh, but there is a great treat for those who take the time to go visit the blog of our most recent follower, Heather Holden. Heather takes the time to draw comics. They are a great amount of fun to read and I highly encourage you to visit her site. Of course you shouldn’t visit until you’ve invited at least ten different individuals to this fabulous blog, but then head over there. Just kidding. I mean that would be really rude to require you to invite ten more people to visit my site by name before going and enjoying her site. Anyway, here’s the link http://edgyauthor.blogspot.com/ check it out and follow!

The howl came closer and Alex shouted, “Sarina. Hurry.” The blue flame reappeared in the palm of her hand and Sarina jumped to her feet with the shotgun in hand. Sarina swung around and fired just as the hound lunged at her. The shotgun blast sounded off the house and echoed through the valley. The steam hound reacted just as quick and in midair changed angle to avoid the pepper of steel balls that raged toward it. Sarina swiveled and fired again. Mussafir answered the bang with a moan of his own. Steam hissed from a torn hose on the steam hound. Sarina screamed out as hot liquid sprayed her legs. She jumped back and at the same time whipped out a pair of pistols. Bang. Bang. The shots rang out as fire flashed from the barrels. Seconds later a ball of blue fire streamed past Sarina. It exploded into the ground a second after the steam hound jumped and landed in a heap. The howl now a whimper as its metal surface reflected the silver moonlight.

The Window (Toraun Part 10)

Let’s see where were we? Oh Yeah, Alex is getting chewed a new one by her sister, while Musaafir is. Wait a second, where did he get off to. Oh yeah that’s right. Now, you wouldn’t have known this since I’m just barely telling you, but Musaafir didn’t just sit there as Alex went for the door. You see, as Alex reached for the door Musaafir took this opportunity to jet through the only opening he could find, which happened to lead into a small dining room. After he realized that he could only escape through a small window. He jumped clear through it, glass and all. Now you might ask yourself. How smart is Musaafir? I mean how long does it take to open a window anyway? Well the answer to question number one is a question in turn. How long would you stop and think about opening the window when you could just dive straight through it. After all, I just got through scaring you to death two days in a row between the howling steam hound and the pounding on the door? You have plenty of time to think about how stupid it would be to jump through a window. That’s all right take your time. You have all the time in the world as you sit in your comfy chair and eat who knows what, while you read this amazing story.

Speaking of which, how many friends have you referred to this amazing story? I sure haven’t seen any new likes or follows. You see this writing stuff really is hard, and it takes quite a bit out of a person. My fingers are raw, (not really) I cry myself to sleep over the lack of follows (only sometimes) and my brain hurts real bad (well tonight it does anyway, because of the massive headache). But I keep writing. Trying to lure you to my blog so that you’ll notice over on the right hand side the real reason….

Hold on just one cotton pickin minute here. I write because I enjoy it. I want others to feel good and get a good laugh out of this amazing, wonderful story. I could care less if they took the time to write comments, email their friends about it, or buy my books that are only $2.99 on Amazon.com right now. That’s right only $2.99 is all it takes to have countless hours of enjoyment. One simple….

Wait, wait, wait this is not a commercial. Let’s just get back to Musaafir, Alex, her sister and of course the steam hound. By the way the answer to question two really does depend upon several factors such as: how is it closed, is it painted shut, is it too heavy to lift, is it being held down by anything (I don’t know maybe an elephant or something. Don’t ask obnoxious questions) etc…etc…etc….

Anyway Musaafir dove through the window at the exact moment that Alex’s sister started to accuse Alex of bringing down the entire destruction of their people. The loud crash of course stopped her and she quickly pulled the shotgun from her back. Alex, didn’t miss a beat either as she focused on the inner energy within her. Within seconds, no nano seconds, a small ice ball formed in the palm of her hand. Musaafir on the other hand, immediately realized his mistake as he lay bleeding on the hard, cold ground. How did he think it would end? Seriously! I’ll tell you how. You see Musaafir had seen plenty of movies where people dove through windows and were just fine afterward. So, he figured that he would be just fine as well. The problem with his thinking is he forgot one very important thing. Movies are much different than real life.

The Sister (Toraun Part 9)

The knock on the door sounded hollow as everything stood still within the small house. Alex's mouth dropped as she stared at the door. Musaafir held his breath. Thud. Thud. Thud. The knock came again. "Open the door or I'll knock it down." The voice that sounded through the door sounded much to high pitch to really instill any fear, but given the circumstances, Musaafir's knees knocked together. "Alex," the voice came again. "I know you're in there and I'd rather not knock in your door." Now you would think that once a face had been drained of blood that it couldn't get any whiter, but in this case it did. She pushed herself up off the ground and slinked toward the door.

"I'm coming," her voice squeaked. Now, at this point Musaafir had lost all courage and he found himself sniveling on the ground. She reached for the doorknob. It shook as she clasped the knob and then twisted. She pulled the door open just as a flash of lightning streaked across the sky illuminating the most...

This is probably the most obvious point to let you know about one of our commenters.  April is one of the most amazing people in all the world. I know this on good authority. She has always been a great support for my books and has edited and read everyone of them even before they were released. This is one reason my books have done so well!! So if you ever get a chance to meet her consider yourself very lucky.

Alex fell backward as the door swung open and slammed against the wall. The bang of the door made the entire house shake like jello. The woman's glare would have scared a ghost away due to its intensity. She stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. A sword handle and shotgun butt stuck up from behind her back while a bracer of pistols hung at her side. Her white blouse stuck to her black undershirt forming around her physique body. Her brown, leather pants shimmered as another lightning strike slashed across the sky. Great drops of rain water dropped of her hair and created a puddle beneath her brown, leather boots. "Alex, what have you done."

"Nothing, it wasn't me. Sister, you have to believe me."

"Sister," Musaafir whispered.

The Chow (Toraun Part 8)

Steam hounds are a mix of machine and an ancient bit of magic. The creator of a steam hound takes bits and pieces of steel, tubes, flesh, springs, more flesh, and gears. The creator will then fashion the steam hound into, well, honestly however he wishes. I mean he is the creator, and so he can do whatever he wants, right? He will then use a mix of necromancy and golemancy to create a rotting heap of pure nastiness. The steam hound has an internal burner that boils water into steam which in turn turns several different gears that makes it move. Its brain and muscles bind to the metal, springs and gears holding it all together nice and neat. This Steam hound has often been mistaken for a hell hound. They have similar names and are both mean as… well mean as anything I know. So if I were you and I saw one of these hounds, either a hell hound or a steam hound, I would run as fast and as far as I could.

Speaking of which, one time when I served a mission in California I had an experience with a hound. No, no, not a hell hound or a steam hound. Those are fictional creatures and really don’t exist, at least not that I know of. On the other hand they may exist in another dimension. You know steam punk is the idea that instead of coal our world turned to steam to power its way through… well, history. So, I guess there is always the possibility that a steam hound could exist in another dimension. Anyway, back to my story that’s real. My companion and I sat on a nice cushy sofa while our host sat on a chair closer to me. He had just finished telling us about how his dog, a chow, had just clamped down on a friend and they had used a pan to beat it in the head until it loosened its grip; when his friendly (not really) chow walked around the corner. I looked at his dog and it looked at me. My face went white and it charged. Now thankfully the dog’s owner was quick. I still remember the slobber on my pants leg. The moral of the story: run from steam hounds, hell hounds and any other kind of hound.

Oh yeah this isn’t about me, but Musaafir.

“I didn’t do anything,” Musaafir said a little too quickly. His eyes widened as he heard the howl pass through the wall like paper. The howl actually helped him think a little bit about the short time he had been on Toraun and he realized that perhaps, just maybe he had done something.

Alex, still close enough to smell, leaned in even closer. Now, even though Alex looked like an elvish Goddess from Musaafir’s dreams he could tell that he didn’t want to cross her, much less lie to her. So, when she said, “Tell me everything that you did since the moment you arrived here.” He spilled his guts without hesitation. By the time he reached the part about shooting the bird Alex’s face had completely drained of blood. “You…” She looked at him in astonishment unable to finish.

The howl sounded even closer and Mussafir jumped out of his skin. “What?” His voice sounded much louder than he wanted it to. He put a hand over his mouth and said much quieter, “What did I do?”

Alex shook her head and mumbled, “We’re all dead.”

Now you might be thinking this is the end of the story, because there is no way I can get Musaafir out of this mess. Let me tell you something though. Musaafir is rather handy and remember he may not be the bravest man alive, but he has age on his side. See just because he’s young here doesn’t mean his mind is young. Wait that may count against him….

So while you contemplate the fate of Musaafir you might take a moment to check out an amazing blog (http://positiveletters.blogspot.com/) where Hillary really knows her history. I can guarantee you that she will support my claim that in all of our history, in this dimension, there has never been report of a hell hound nor a steam hound, so you can sleep easy tonight. However, there really are chows and they are just as mean. Don’t let the picture fool you. I repeat don’t let the cute cuddly picture fool you. You’ve been warned.

The Steam Hound (Toraun Part 7)

Have you ever had a moment in your life when you are so scared that you can’t move? When the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; when you’re afraid to turn around, because you don’t want to see the thing that’s just about to grab you. You know that time when you wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom or get a drink, and you’re not quite sure what it is, but you’re sure, no positive, you saw something in the dark. Now, picture that moment in your mind. Think real hard to conjure up that moment in your mind and let that fear coarse through your body. Let the hairs of your neck stand up on end and close your eyes. No silly not that long, because then you can’t read the rest of the story. Okay, never mind, don’t close your eyes at all just think about that moment. Now imagine that you’re out in the middle of a land that you’ve never been before and it’s dark. The mist has just come up over the ridge and is sliding gently down into the valley you’re standing in. The moon is full, but clouds cover it so it has a reddish hue to it. Then think of the low growl a dog makes. That real low grumble in the back of their throat that lets you know they mean business. Then it gives off a howl that chills you to the very bones and makes your knees knock together. You’re so scared at this point that you the only thing you really want to do or can do is to fall to the ground in a little ball and sob.

When the howl shrieked through the valley that’s exactly how Musaafir felt. Thankfully he had a little more bravery than you, because he didn’t fall to the ground, ball up like a little child, and start to sob. Or it could be that he had already made a bad first impression in front of Alex and a little voice (that’s mine) told him to stand strong and not cower. Still, he did start to shake and he struggled to not show the fear, besides the chattering of his teeth, of course.  “Get in here quick,” Alex hissed. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “The hounds are out. They haven’t been out for a long time.” She started to pace back and forth with her first finger tapping her chin. She stopped and said, “Maybe.” She started then shook her head. “No, that can’t be it.”

“What? What is that thing?” Musaafir asked as he looked to the door.

Now, you would think that at this moment it would be a very bad place to interject a commercial, but I need to. It’s important to point out to all of you some amazing people. The first is an amazing up and coming author who has an incredible skill of building an atmosphere with words. Her name is Jennifer Schultz (https://www.facebook.com/authorJenniferSchultz). The second is my beautiful daughter!! She has always been one of my biggest supporters. She constantly makes comments and shares my stories with others. I really love her and think she is soooo amazing! Now before I start to cry we can go on with the story.

Alex tapped her chin exactly two more times then turned and looked at Musaafir straight in the eyes. “What did you do?” Alex smelt like sweet jasmine and it washed over Musaafir like a warm spring breeze. Musaafir couldn’t help but forget all his fears and the really real danger that stood only a couple of hundred yards away. (Now, you might say a couple of hundred yards really isn’t that close, but I think that it’s all about perspective and how fast an individual or in this case a steam hound can run).

The Name (Toraun Part 6)

Now, a name is a very important piece of who a person is. It’s how others identify a particular person and in some cultures signify that person’s personality and abilities. For example when my wife and I named our children we spent many days and even months thinking of an appropriate name for our children. We scavenged the history of our ancestors and thought how to instill a sense of importance in our children. We wanted them to be able to think of their names and what it meant to be called by a particular name. We chose to name our children after their grandparents and great grandparents so they could always remember their heritage.

In the case of young man, his name had great significance as well. Regrettably, unknown to him. You see, he had been raised by a distant great uncle, Fredrick Gulliver, who had no contact with young man’s parents other than one time at a family get together. While young man’s father, Jeremiah Sorentino, and Fredrick gambled a bet had been wagered that changed the course of young man’s life forever. Fredrick lost the bet.

Now one could debate for seconds or even minutes the outcome and if the change was good or bad, but really let’s not at this time.

Anyway, Jeremiah wagered the family house and Fredrick wagered raising young man. Now, before you go judging young man’s parents you must understand that the family farm really wasn’t all that significant in fact I wouldn’t call it a farm at all other than just to say that and Fredrick’s wealth and influence was vast. When I say vast I mean really vast like space is vast. Jeremiah saw the vastness of wealth as well and saw this as an opportunity for young man to have a much… much better life than he otherwise would have.

Anyway, due to the fact that young man had been very young at the time of the wager his parents never had the opportunity to speak to him the meaning behind his name. So, as young man stood on the steps of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen before he fumbled with giving his name, because he did not see the importance of his name and to be honest in that moment quite embarrassed of it.

Alex tapped her foot and squinted down at young man more intensely, hoping this would prompt him. When it seemed nothing would exit young man’s mouth she threw her arms in the air and turned on her heels. “Musaafir,” said Musaafir.

Alex stopped mid turn and turned back to look at Musaafir. “What was that?”

“Musaafir is my name. I have no idea what it means or why my parents gave it to me but that’s my name.”

Now I wonder at how many of you can figure out what Musaafir means and from what language it comes from. If you do find out comment below! Please just one little comment to reward a writer’s hard work. Please, please. I mean I’m on my knees begging right now…. Oh I mean I’m not desperate. Not me, not at all.

The Possible Love Interest (Toraun Part 5)

Now, the knocker that young/old encountered on the first house he came to in the small village, looked nothing like the picture of yesterday’s post. That truly would have been a bad omen, and I think even old/young man would have gotten that one…maybe. No the silver knocker did not have any of those features at all. The gold, turkey…

 Well it is Thanksgiving. No not in Toraun, of course not there. You see Thanksgiving is a holiday in the United States. I know because I referenced Wikipidea, and it knows everything! By the way here are some fun facts about Thanksgiving http://www.whsv.com/seasonal/misc/33852054.html. Check them out they are fun.

…seemed peculiar to the young/old man, but after the above clarification it made perfect sense to him (not really). He reached for the knocker and just then the door opened. He jumped back in surprise completely caught off guard by what he saw. The woman in front of him stood about five feet-seven inches tall and had long, white hair that fell to her waist. Small pointy ears adorned with many gold earrings poked out from under her hair. Her eyes sparkled from the moon light behind young/old man and brought out the purple in them. Her high cheekbones and sharp chin made her face look as if it had been chiseled from marble. Her lips full and nose small. Intricately designed tattoos formed a sun in between her eyebrows and curved and twisted around her face and pulled her carved features out. Her head sat upon a perfectly formed body.  He stepped back again to get a fuller view of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

Possible love interest. Not sure because I really don’t think this through as I write, but who knows. Interesting….Hmm that would be interesting, because clearly he is older in one sense but in the other he is probably more the age of the woman. On one hand he could be already married in his old form, but if he was, would that really matter since the young form clearly isn’t. This really is a conundrum. What if he isn’t married as old self? Then that would make the moral issue better, but then think of this beautiful, young woman hanging on the arm of an old man. Now when I say old I mean he’s old! O well I guess we’ll figure it out together... that is if anyone ever reads this. I mean seriously one comment! By the way I really appreciate Christine Rains, and she has some truly amazing books check her site out and of course buy her books http://christinerains-writer.blogspot.com/. (hint comment and you get mentioned in the story. Try it out). Wow I really get off subject. It must be the holiday.

So, back to the story. (I think I’ll emphasis the young part for a bit. I mean wouldn’t you if you had just met the love of your life). Young man closed his mouth quickly and wiped the drool from his chin even quicker. “Hello,” the beauty said. Her voice drifted through the young man’s mind like honey making his knees quake and his heart beat faster. She tried a new tactic as she recognized that this young man had been utterly smitten by her. She put her finger to her chin and tapped it. Her eyes brightened and she said, “My name’s Alex.” When young man still did not respond she tapped her chin again. Her eyes no longer twinkled but glowered and she put her hands on her hips. You see she did not understand the power her beauty had on others, since she had lived in the small village all of her life and the village had not had a visitor for millennium. Her hands on her waist was a mistake, because it only extenuated her curvy hips. The young man’s mouth dropped open again. “Seriously, sir. You must be daft.”

This statement snapped the young man out of his daze as he realized he had made a serious blunder in his first impression tactics. Now, sure it would be important to show a casual interest in the opposite sex the first time you meet them and to even possibly notice a feature that you like about that person and comment on it as well. But, to openly gawk. Now that is just stupid. He closed his mouth then opened and closed it several times before he finally spoke, “Hi.” Now this hi came out relatively well considering the circumstances. It wasn’t a Fabio “hi” by any means but it definitely wasn’t a Sheldon “hi.” “My name’s ….” 

The Knocker (Toraun Part4)

Young/Old man wiped the blood from his face and wondered at the strange bird that had just become jerky. He walked over to the bird and examined it. A tiny tendril of smoke lifted into the air from the main body of the bird and floated in an odd pattern toward the mountain. Old/young man squinted his eyes and pursed his lips as he watched the smoke float away. “How odd,” he said. He stuck his finger into his mouth and then held it in the air. “Just as I thought the smoke is floating into the wind.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the bird. The few feathers that remained were made of metal and the beak as well. He picked up a stick and poked at the bird. “Now that’s odd,” he said as he revealed burnt flesh under the metal wings. “I’ve never seen such a thing.” He shrugged again, and pulled on one of the wings. It tore away from the main part of the bird easily. He smelt it, bent it, and even tasted it. The last bit brought a bitter taste to his mouth and he quickly spat several times onto the ground.

While tried to rid his mouth of the foul taste the air grew chilly as a cold wind swept up the small hill from the valley below. The old/young man rubbed his arms as he realized that it had gotten cold very fast and that he had best find some shelter soon. He gave the feather one last bewildered look then placed it gently into his pouch and looked around once again. Now that the sun had set, small lights appeared in the valley below, and he saw tiny huts nestled up against the base of the mountain.

Now the huts really weren’t all that small, they just looked that way due to the distance from which the young/old man saw them. If he had been closer he would have realized that they were quite large. In fact I wouldn’t call them tiny at all or even small for that matter, but I would think of them more as your average home built in the 20^th century. Anyway as he got closer (you see he started toward them) he too realized that the huts were much larger than he had thought in the first place. And in order to hurry the story on we will dispense with the walk, and just skip to him arriving to the first house.

Old/young man stepped up to the first home, and knocked without reservation upon the solid, wood door. This of course hurt more than he thought it would because, let’s face it, solid wood doors are hard, and to hit them without hesitation is going to hurt a little. So he stopped hitting the door without reservation, and decided that the metal knocker would be a much better way to knock on the solid, wood door.

The knocker was not your ordinary knocker. Now you may wonder about knockers and the significance a knocker can play, but truthfully all you have to do is recall the story by Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, and then you can let your imagination think of how significant a knocker really can be. Seriously, if Scrooge had just taken the omen given by the knocker then the whole story would have been over before it began. He could have realized that he had better not go into the, obviously, haunted house, but b-line it to a nice little tavern and slept the night there. Or gone to his nephew’s house if he couldn’t spare to part with his precious money. I mean seriously.

Anyway….

The Bird (Toraun Part3)

The shriek of the bird sounded like a freight train as the bird screeched toward the old…hmmm ….young… no that’s not right either.

Oh forget it here’s the info dump just so we don’t need to worry any longer about how to describe the old/young man. Wait that’s it! No info dump here.

The shriek of the bird sounded like a freight train as the bird screeched toward the old/young man. The old/young man dove for cover behind what appeared to be an innocent shrub, however he soon realized that it wasn’t that innocent at all. The needles jabbed deep into his precious, young skin and within nanoseconds tiny spots of red appeared all over his body. He squirmed and squealed, which of course only caused more injury to his already hurt pride and of course to his skin. It reminded him of his much older hands and the pain he felt when the rain came. After what seemed like an eternity he finally cleared himself from the bush only to hear the terrible shriek of the bird once again. The young/old (see how I switched it just so there’s no show of favoritism) man scanned the horizon for cover.

Toraun received its name from the first people who had settled the planet. They had come from a similar planet named Torown, but had disagreed with the name and had decided to settle their own planet so that they could call their planet the correct way of the true God, Toraun. However, to their utter astonishment they realized after arriving on the planet, and using up their only means of space travel to form their new city, that Toraun, that is the God Toraun, quite enjoyed the planet Torown, so he never followed after them. The naming ceremony, regrettably occurred before anyone took the time to realize this and so the new inhabitants of the planet Toraun were stuck on a planet named after a God that didn’t reside there. This of course didn’t deter another God from taking up stakes on the planet, and no he did not prescribe to the name of Toraun, but of Toranis. So once again the inhabitants of Toraun resided on a planet whose name did not match that of the God that presided over it. This of course disappointed the Toraunians, but they made the best of it and started to build yet another space ship.

Anyway, as the old/young man scanned the horizon for a place to hide from the shrieking bird, his breath caught in his throat. Giant trees speckled the landscape along with large shrubs. He scowled at the shrubs surrounding the trees. A giant mountain loomed off to the west where the sun had just begun its long descent behind it.  The top of the mountain sparkled as the rays of the sun reflected off its snowcapped peaks. A river gently made its way down the side of the mountain to a valley far below to end in a sparkling blue lake surrounded by green (not shrubs just in case that’s where your mind was heading) grass. The grass waved gently from the slight breeze that blew across the meadow to end with a whisper as it hit the base of the mountain.

The shriek came again, ripping the young/old man from his reverie. He dove behind a boulder and the bird swooped past. He pulled from his waist pack (no not a fanny pack, that’s so 80’s) a small gun and aimed for the bird. His breath caught again. How could he destroy such a lovely bird? It swooped around as it shrieked once again. Oh yeah that’s how. He aimed the gun level with the bird and squeezed the tiny trigger. A bright beam of yellow crackled toward the multicolored bird. Its flight forever ended in an instant as the beam struck. The bird fell and the old/young man stood triumphantly, with a broad smile across his face, not realizing that Toranis had sanctified the bird.

Hands (Toraun Part2)

His hands were the things that always shocked him the most. Before the change or transportation, the old man really didn't know which, his hands looked gnarled and broken. They barely responded to him when he told them to bend and move. The pain, whenever it rained, felt like tiny needles that pricked deep through his skin and found the ends of his nerves. The needles seemed to know just how to press the utmost amount of pain and anguish that kept him from his sleep at night. The wrinkled skin stretched like bubble gum only to return to its rightful place several minutes later.

Now, he smiled as he admired the young hands, the hands felt like he had the control to either hold the hand of an infant to the ability to crush a man’s fist. The skin no longer had the age spots, but looked like the color of molasses. The skin felt flexible and when he bent his fingers it just moved with them, like it should. He grinned like a young school boy getting his very first kiss as he watched his hands bend and flex effortlessly.

The screech that echoed through the trees, pierced the old, or I mean young…well…

This brings up an interesting point that I think needs a little explaining. The old man or young man…. Wait a second this is getting difficult to explain so let’s just assume that the old man before the light never really understood whether he went back in age after the flash or if he just possessed someone else’s body in another time and place. He always felt a sort of out of body experience after the flash, but he really couldn’t tell if that happened due to the extreme change in age or if it occurred because he truly did enter the body of another person. Anyway back to the screech…

Toraun

Lightning flashed, followed almost immediately by a loud clap of thunder. "Only a few more minutes before the rain starts," the old man muttered under his breath. He scratched his head as he looked behind him. "I need to do something about a seat." He said as a thin smile played on his face. The sight of the burning stool appeared in his mind. That had been a good day. He had purchased the stool when he first started the business, thinking that it would be the perfect stool, he had soon realized that it wasn't. But, never really having the time nor the money to get a new one, he kept it until last night. He regretted that he had to stand on the hard cement floor, but at least now he had a reason to look for a new one.

Lightning flashed again followed by another boom that rocked the small house. He looked at the roof of the old house and mumbled a curse. The rain always brought cursing from the old man. The thatched roof had more holes than roof, not really, this is just how it felt when the floor was covered with pots, pans and bowls to catch the water. He mumbled a few more profanities before he walked to the cupboard and pulled out the pans and bowls that would save the floor from the flood. The pitter patter sounds of rain started and quickened the old man's steps. Within a few minutes he finished the chore of protecting the floor. He looked at the worn floor and wondered why he even bothered.

He opened the old computer and caressed the keys lovingly. The computer had been given to him by his mother on his thirty-fifth birthday. He pressed the power button and it started whirring as it slowly booted up. He knew that the computer needed many parts replaced but after his mother's death he couldn't bear to let it go. The cursor blinked in the username field and he quickly typed in 'Dragonrider'. He pressed the tab key and the cursor jumped to the password field. He paused and thought of days of yesterday. The days that he traveled throughout the universe in search of the perfect adventure. With a sigh he typed in '@dv3ntur3j0urn@l' and pressed the enter key. The computer whirred and the screen flashed from white to blue. Several icons appeared on the screen but only one concerned him today. He touched the screen on the icon of a journal, and a holographic picture of the universe appeared in front of him. He zoomed in with his fore finger and thumb until the picture zoomed into a group of planets surrounding a bright yellow star. Several of the planets were outlined in red, a couple of yellow and a single green one. He pressed on the green planet. Toraun appeared in bold letters under the planet followed by a brief description. "I'm really getting much too old to be doing this." He pressed the initiate button and closed his eyes. His stomach churned, he felt blood rush to his head and then nothing. He opened his eyes and ran his hand though his long brown hair. He smiled and said, "At least it has its perks."