Xperia 4.0

The compilation of whispered chants spread into ghostly forms of men holding a variety of weapons. Each completely different to the last.
Alasdair couldn’t avoid his muscles tensing up, it was like they had a mind of their own. Muscles he didn’t even know he had clenched around his bones. They started to burn as if he were being stretched in unusual positions.
The ghostly warriors raised their heads at him as they lined up behind Arellia, her head still bowed, her chanting still mingled with theirs.
The first to step forwards was the first to appear, he had a large sword that looked as though it had a smaller set of swords clamped on either side. It lifted the blade towards him and waited. Did he want him to take it? Not that he didn’t want to but his body was not under his command anymore. Then words separate from the chant echoed clearly in Alasdair’s head.
“Your muscles need to adjust in order to use this weapon, understand when you die that blade will cease to exist, do you accept the contract of guardian to our daughter’s daughter?”.
His brow furrowed, ‘when’ he dies? Not if? The sudden certainty of his demise seemed to pause inside his heart. Was he ready? Hesitation, frustration, and fear battled down from his mind.
His eyes glanced to Arellia. Her beautiful face still bowed. She had chosen him over others who had more experience. She had picked him. But had she picked because he didn’t know what was happening? Was it a mercy selection?
Then the memory of their last conversation before the trials rippled through his mind. The council had decided to accelerate her selection process. They were going to force someone upon her until she gave birth then she’d be killed. She was also going to die. But she couldn’t back away from the decision…
He took a deep breath. Willed his arms to lift. And he took the sword from the ghost.
“Very well”.
It wasn’t over. The ghost then touched his face. Sinking into his eyes. Alasdair had a moment of panic. Unprepared for the invasion happening to his body, as each ghost form stepped forward and sunk into his flesh. Memories of lives he had not lived flood his thoughts. Each one adding more and more that the pile soon just mashed together.
When the last ghost slipped into him, the whispers stopped. Arellia lifted her head with a soft smile on her face. She seemed to be searching his eyes for something.
He felt the odd impulse to reach out his hand. To brush his thumb over her cheek. Yet he didn’t.


Poetry 1.8

Lake district

Roads with no paths
Twist then turn
At speeds of sixty
Cyclists dog walkers camping hikers
Line the edges – don’t get hit
Sheep wonder freely
Beyond the cattle grates
Hills go up, and up, and up, and down
Then up some more,
Trees roots knot on large boulders
Leaning out the branches finger tips
Brush the surface of the water,
Homes build from stone instead of brick
Surrounding huge lake, that trickles to a river.
Night is actually night, stars clear,
Sun disappears behind a bowl of mountains.

Book in the last year…

Uprooted – Naomi Novak

This book took me a long time to finish… Not because it was a bad read actually it was really good. But because somethings just got in the way of my time.

I first picked this up last year in… I think September? It was one of those books that I picked up while browsing waterstones shelves and read the back of it to decide it I liked it. I liked the sounds of it enough to buy it.

I don’t think I started reading it straight away. I had another book I was reading at the time. But when I got to it I was uncertain about it.

The main character was clumsy (not as in the writing clumsy I mean the character). She somehow manages to get everything on herself, from frying eggs, to mud trails on a dress that shouldn’t even be possible. I might have missed the explanation as to why she was so messy and a clutz. It might have been the fact that she was a witch and quite an oddly talented one. Though in the story the other wizards and witches wouldn’t agree.

The story did, however, progress from that though I thought it was a little slow getting there. But had it gone any faster the book would have lost some of it’s detail. Somewhere in the middle it did get very interesting and exciting, and things started to click together.

The world was vast and well thought out, the magic was described clearly so at no point did I sit there and go… “What!?”. Each character went through changes.

Overall, it was a good journey to go through. I enjoyed it. Even if it did take me a while to get through it.

Xperia 3.9

Arellia stared up at Alasdair in the ceremonial garb, looking handsome, with his bruised and cut up face. It made her wince thinking about it. While the remaining council members watched, and a high priest read out the ritual rights for the guardianship he leaned in towards her.
“Stop wincing, it’s not that bad”, he whispered keeping his voice quiet enough for no one else to hear.
“shush”, she snapped, her eyes glanced to the priest who was none the wiser, then added, “Have you looked at yourself?”.
Alasdair smiled but said nothing else because the priest was stepping towards them. He was a thin older man, as straight as the pillars that supported the room. His robes as extravagant as Arellia’s dress rustled around his feet.
“Are you ready your majesty?”, his voice was low, and wobbled a little. Arellia had tried to retire him but he want to perform her guardian ritual first. She had allowed it, but the poor man deserved his rest.
“Yes”, she bowed her head. Her eyes closed. And whispers fell from her tongue.
“Wait, ready for what?”, Alasdair sounded a little confused. “It’s not done?”.
“No, you must receive judgement from all of the previous guardians, then if they find you worthy will train you, physically, and mentally”, the priest replied. Arellia’s whispers took on a life of their own, more voices added to her voice.

Poetry 1.7

Numbness sets

Mental processing shut down
No longer feel the pain
It’s becoming the default
One thing after another
The pile grows higher and higher
Becomes a giant ready to eat at the bones
“Where to start?”
No sign that says start here
No sign that says ends here
Positivity weakens under pressure
The light at the tunnel stretches further away
Doors are closing
Nothing opens in their place.
The shut down numbs head to toe.

Poetry 1.6

Never get anywhere

Take a breath,
Sit down, elbows on the table, face in hands.
Take a breath
Let everything stop for that blissful second
Think of the list of things to do
Think of the goals set by the self to do
Calculate what’s going to get done.
Not the goals and the dreams.
That can wait a day. This will take you five minutes.
No it takes hours.
Time slips by.
Petty things that won’t make a difference.
Get added to the list as others can’t do it.
The no can’t stain the lips.
Not a single word will help in this moment.
Heart beats a thousand beats in one second.
Stomach twists from sickness.
No one notices.
Take a breath…
Take a deep breath…
Let it sigh… Slide out from chair… And repeat.

Xperia 3.8

The boy looked conflicted. His body erupted into quivers of uncertainty. The general snapped at him, and Arellia pressed the knife harder into the flesh of his neck. The blood was the boy’s proof that she wasn’t bluffing, she could see the registration in his eyes. He turned on his heels, shouted at the rest of the group to stop the maids and released Alasdair from his cage.
“You will regret your choice princess”, the general grunted.
“The only choice I regret is allowing you to be my general, now get out!”, she snapped pushing him away from her to his knees. The army grunts scurried off with their general.
Charles warily stepped forward, his head bowed. Arellia couldn’t think of the best thing to do next, her body was drained from constantly being on edge and then attacked.
“You did this”, she hissed at him, her patience for him had grown thin. He opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him. “Since this guardian selection, you have over stepped your boundaries, ambushing the guardian I selected, questioning every decision I make, and I’ve had enough”, Arellia paused her mind still making up what would punish him best. “You are dismissed”, it was the least painful out of all the options she could have taken.
“You can’t, the council-…”, he protested. If looks could kill Arellia would have slit his throat, her glare stopped him mid-sentence.
“You so much as mention the council again and I’ll have your head, I rule this city not you, and I will be dying for it, now get out, I’ve had enough, the ceremony will commence without you”, her anger flared through her nostrils. Charles stared at her dumbfounded for a moment before bowing his head and leaving. Arellia felt like the room was lifted of a heavy weight. All the maids gave her a small smile like they were relieved. Alasdair all bruised and cut up looked a little disapointed. She couldn’t tell if it was in her, or himself.

Writing, Reading, and Stories old and new.