Burden

‘As a boy, restricted by my mother’s agelessness, and ruled by the need to find my father, leading to Immortality, in itself is a prison, given the cycles of death and rebirth. I had to avoid detection- not only were there no Vallor in the Universe, but no expectation of it changing. Worse was the fact nobody remembered my people, when I remembered so well. Everyday was a cage, of the mind, of heritage, of loneliness. Then came Rain and another damn cage, in the form of prophecy. Everything I did had been foretold. I was half-blood, son to Tanos, grandson to Vannis, the One, Enchanter, the duality of a terribly prophetic naming, but where was Torrullin? My sons imprisoned me and they still do. Both of them. I thought I was breaking out when I orchestrated the destruction of Torrke, but to my horror prophecy awaited me in the flatlands. I had not escaped. Now here I am, following the road I myself predicted, and still dealing with my sons. Do I feel caged? Damn right I do.’

The whole picture...

Very Lord of the Rings...

Hounded

‘The night of my Immortality Ritual, just over six thousand years ago, this particular dream started. It came only in times of great tension or turmoil, so wasn’t nightly or even regular. It stopped around fifteen hundred years back, and began again the day after I returned from the Plane, and thereafter every time I closed my eyes.’
Torrullin sighed and leaned back. His eyes were calm as he related the actual images to Krikian. ‘I am running across a dry dead plain, totally flat, hard stones I trip over as I run. I am holding something very precious, I must not drop or lose it or I shall be lost, and not only I, but also everyone I care about. As I run I have flashbacks of a time I was held caged like an animal, taunted with the sharpness of spears, spat on, ridiculed, starved near to death, big men with no faces climbing into the cage wielding viciously spiked maces, my bones crushing, knitting together painfully…I think I am cripple for the initial flight across the plain. They taunt in the common tongue- pig, murderer, whoreson, human waste, devil…and many other insults. I look up and I see a hill, or a mountain, maybe a heap of bones, it’s the only different thing and I must go to it. There are horsemen behind me, I do not see them, but I feel them and they are getting closer and they want the bundle I carry, they will kill for it. And then I am on the path on the hill and I have to get to the top, I must sacrifice the precious bundle to save myself- it is my redemption. I am climbing old, worn steps of stone winding up the hillside and carrying something, something light and alive. I look down to check what I hold is still safe and warm. A tiny pink face peeks at me through the gap in the swaddling and little black eyes blink. An innocent babe, by all gods. I concentrate on placing my feet properly on the smooth steps, slick and dangerous in encroaching mist. As I climb, mist arises and soon it will envelope all, block out sight and sound. White blindness, wet on my skin, in my lungs. I hurry up cautiously, mindful of my cargo. I have to reach a stone temple perching precariously on the summit of this lone hill before my pursuers discern my purpose, and I thank the Goddess for sending the mist to obscure my trail through the ever-present dust below. It’s a tribute, a sacrifice I carry and to live beyond the day I am dreaming of, it has to die. I look down again, but now the white swirls are so dense the little face is indistinct and I am glad I can no longer see her; what I have to do is hard enough. I am weary of running from this, always looking over my shoulder, wondering when they will find me and snare me for the beast they think me, cage me anew until they have enough sport. I stand poised on the final step, lost in a world of choking white and the shortest side step will plummet us to sharp rocks far below. The rocks, the hill, the only landmarks in a featureless dust plain that literally has no beginning and no end. Before me is the slight shadow of a shrouded temple and I step forward and the baby squirms. I hear them coming for me, but don’t actually see them, and I know it is not just the babe- they hunt me. I have overcome and they don’t like that. The fog thickens; a saviour, a haven, the coolness a blessing, and I begin to hope- my life, my very soul dependent on my success. One misstep and all will be lost…but she is beautiful, so tiny, and so perfect, my heart breaks, my resolve crumbles and I cannot do it. My salvation lies before me and I cannot do it. I stand within the doorway of the temple and I clutch the warm bundle and I cannot move…and behind me the unseen men with their war clubs clamber up the hillside, cursing, in a hurry…and I force myself to wake up.’

Ruins and graves

Ireland is spectacular in its green landscapes, high cliffs, forest parks and beautiful beaches, whatever the weather. It is also a country rich in ruins and history....as a writer, all of it adds up to fantastical inspiration.

In Brief - Walker of Realms

Book Five – Walker of Realms

Place: Valaris- continent & Western Isles

Characters:

Protagonists: Torrullin, Margus, Saska, Tannil, Mitrill, Caltian, Quilla,Buthos of the Siric, Teighlar, Samuel, Lowen, Fay

Antagonists: Tymall, the new Darkling Horde

Magical tools: Maghdim Medaillon, the sword Trezond
Warlock accruements

In brief: Two thousand years later Torrullin returns to Valaris with Margus as an unlikely ally to fight Tymall returned as Warlock. Tymall is now far more dangerous that Margus ever was. Torrullin understands it requires a Dark Lord and the Enchanter to fight his son. But Torrullin is plagued by a recurring dream and it needs solving to clarify the path ahead. Tymall attempts to set the stage as it was in the past, knowing power lies in there to aid him when confronting his father.

Lead into Animated Spirit: Torrullin has vanished to find Lowen Dalrish. She will lead him into the realm of his dreams. While he is gone many Vallas die at Tymall’s hand, and death and starvation stalks ordinary Valarians.

In Brief - Indivisible Sword

Book 4

Place: Valaris

Characters:

Protagonists: Torrullin, Vannis, Tanos, Saska, Tristamil, Quilla, Cat, Caballa, Lowen Dalrish

Antagonists: Margus, Tymall, the Dinor

Magical tools: Blue Sword, Green Sword, Tanos’ diamond

In brief: Again Valaris is the ultimate battlefield, Margus versus Torrullin, but this time there are the twins, alter egos to the main players. Torrullin is in quandary, for he loves both his sons, and when he is forced to choose it changes the path of the future. The green and blue swords become one, and Torrullin pulls Margus into an alternate realm to prevent destruction to Valaris as a whole again. He does this after his sons die, and it fuels his rage. The Dark Lord will pay.

Lead into Walker of Realms: Torrke is destroyed, Torrullin, Vannis and Margus have moved on into the invisible realms. Vannis goes his own way (to Raken) and Torrullin and Margus awake in the Flatlands. Their battle is not yet over.