the voice

[This is an ongoing chapter a week story that began with the first Words for Wednesday for 2025 on 1 January. I'm hoping to continue it through 31 December, the last Wednesday of the year. To start from the beginning, click here to be taken back to 1 January 2025, and then look for chapters to appear weekly between Tu-W-Th]

  Elowin and Thal spent the rest of the day walking the perimeter of the elves' village, looking at all of the sigils that Thal had placed in his fugue.  At times they spoke of the past, but at other times Elowin was silent which was little comfort to Thal.  Occasionally, she would write an extra sigil near his, sometimes even rubbing out his and putting another in its place.  

  Thal trusted her wisdom more than he trusted his dreams, and as they walked memories flowed back out of the corners of his mind of when he first walked the same paths.  Occasionally, he would shudder with the memory, especially of ones when he was walking in the imposing darkness on nights of the new moon.

  When they finally returned to the village, Elowin looked exhausted, and oddly older than she had when they first set out.  Thal bid her good night and then went in search of Lyri and Eldrin.  He needed to be around friends who could make him laugh and forget all of the nightmares of the gnolls and sigils.

Image Source:
Bill Ward Photography

  Finding the two of them sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, whispering to each other by a bonfire, he almost kept walking, feeling oddly like a third wheel who had just discovered his best friend and girlfriend were cheating on him.  But Lyri had heard a twig snap as he approached, and looking to see who was trying to sneak up on the two of them, saw him.  She jumped to her feet and quickly ran to Thal, hugging him so hard he found it almost hard to breathe.

  "I guess this means you didn't dump me for El."

  Lyri smiled and kissed him.  "Not a chance! Sorry El, but my heart belongs to Thal."

  "Oh, no worries there, Lyri.  I've got my eyes on someone else, anyway.  No offense."

  "Ha, ha, ha, none taken!"

  Dragging Thal by the arm, Lyri and El moved to a log a little farther from the rest of the elves who had started to gather around the bonfire.  Thal watched Lyri closely as he realized that her weak femininity was more of an act than a reality, disguising a strength that was more than just muscles.  He wondered if there was a war brewing with the gnolls if they would be a match for her fierceness.  He doubted it.

  As he was about to tell the two of them about his day spent with Elowin, a quiet, yet firm voice interrupted his thought.

  "Begging your pardon for my rude manners, Master Thalion, but I wouldn't tell them just yet about what Mistress Elowin has shared with you."

  Thal spun in a circle to find the source of the voice and when he saw no one, he realized that it had not been a voice he heard with his ears, but one he heard with his mind.

Better late than never to Words for Wednesday...

Saturday ...

  Last Wednesday I went on my first in-person job interview since 2015.  It went really well, however, I'm not sure if what they wanted me for will be possible.  More research to be done on credentialing for the management certification course work that they want me to teach. 

  But I did get to dress up a bit, with new shoes to go with my thrifted sundress.  Since it was a bit chillier than I had anticipated, I wore my (also thrifted) denim jacket with my yippy hippy pins.  Almost-63 me never looked cooler.

  I was asked if I intend to publish my Words for Wednesday story at the end of the year, and I most likely will make it available on Smashwords [<link].  I had published my other three there at one time, but then Amazon got all possessive and said 'either or but not both' so they are only on Amazon now.  Smashwords offers digital books, with publishing done via Draft2Digital [<link] for both digital and print.  I'm still protesting the patriarchy, and the 1%, so won't be publishing on Amazon again, and will need to move my three books from them, to Draft2Digital, but that may be a project for next year.

   Wishing you a week ahead that is stress-free and amazing ... Hugs, Ci💚

Sigils ...

[This is an ongoing chapter a week story that began with the first Words for Wednesday for 2025 on 1 January. I'm hoping to continue it through 31 December, the last Wednesday of the year. To start from the beginning, click here to be taken back to 1 January 2025, and then look for chapters to appear weekly between Tu-W-Th]

  Elowin Sableleaf had been watching Thal from a distance for quite some time since he returned to their forest.  She knew something had happened to him, but since all she knew were rumors and overheard whispered conversations, she wasn't going to rely on anything but what she heard from Thal himself.

  That afternoon she followed him through the forest until he finally veered sharply to the edge of a creek and lit a small fire.  She watched as he took a burning brand from the fire and used it to draw a sigil into another log nearby.

  "What are ye drawing there, Thal?"

  Thal jumped as if she had stuck him with her hatpin and tried to hide the smoldering brand behind his back.

  "Nothing, Elder Elowin.  I was just drawing something I saw in a dream."

  "A dream, eh?  You just became an impromptu artist of the forest, have you?  You ought not be drawing things that come to you in dreams, lad.  Not all the things in our dreams are good."

  "Does this mean something?"

  "Aye, it does.  But are you certain you don't know the meaning of it?"  Elowin watched his face to see if his eyes averted or he blushed in a caught lie, but his eyes stayed clear and worry etched his face instead.

  "Come, sit here with me, lad, and I'll tell you of a time my great granny took me on holiday."

  Elowin spoke softly and slowly of the history of the wood elves, the forests before time was counted, and the ways of their ancestors.  She spoke of magic, invisible armies, and powerful sigils for both good and evil.  Thal sat transfixed, listening to her words until he became unaware of anything else but her eyes and the sound of her voice.  She told of how other forest creatures had been their constant companions and protectors.

  He vaguely remembered seeing paintings in some of the oldest tree caves of creatures that no longer walked the Earth, and he wondered to himself if that was what she meant.

  "Yes, lad.  Those paintings were created to honor our companions who sacrificed their lives to save us."

  "Wha ... but I didn't say anything.  How did you know that was what I was thinking?"

  "It's a gift from my great great great granny, and one that I think you might also have a touch of.  These dreams of yours, how do they make you feel when you wake from them?  Do they frighten you?"

  "No.  Well.  Not at first because they were just dreams.  But then I started to wake up and feel an urgency to walk the woods in all directions.  Then later, I would sometimes feel like I was waking up again, like I'd been sleepwalking or something, and I'd find smoldering fires and these signs I'd drawn on rocks or trees.  That's when I started to feel afraid because I didn't always remember starting the fire or drawing the signs.  What do they mean, Elder Elowin?"

  "I doubt this will be much solace to you, Thal, but I believe that this sigil is for protection.  I would have to look at the others to be sure."

  "Protection from whom?  Or what?  How would I even know how to make them?"

  "I believe it is our ancestors that are using you through your dreams, Thal.  And as for protection from what, I think it is an evil that your generation hasn't ever faced before."

It's not a dream ... it's Words for Wednesday again.

something wicked this way comes ...

[This is an ongoing chapter a week story that began with the first Words for Wednesday for 2025 on 1 January.  I'm hoping to continue it through 31 December, the last Wednesday of the year.  To start from the beginning, click here to be taken back to 1 January 2025, and then look for chapters to appear weekly between Tu-W-Th]

  For the most part, life in the forest for wood elves is quiet.  The gentle sounds of babbling brooks and creeks lull them to sleep at night, along with the sound of the winds talking high above in the trees.  Their naturally organic meals help them to live long and productive lives, compared to the standards of most humans.

  There is rarely any violence, anger, or stress amongst the multiple forest clans because they understand that in order for each to survive, there must be peace amongst all of them.  When natural disasters strike, such as a fierce storm with fallen trees and flooding or a wildfire, they work together to ensure the safety of each other, and the forest.

Image source: getwallpaper.com

  But at least once in every generation, there is a foul odor on the wind that foretells of an ominous enemy only the oldest elves remember.  Whereas the moisture from rain will wash the air and forest clean of dust or pollen, the foulness of this smell only becomes worse.  Clinging to the hair and clothes of the elves until it reaches the skin, and then even deeper to bring a darkness to their minds and hearts.

  It had been 20 times 20-years since the last time the darkness was smelled by all noses in the woods.  Long enough for all but the most ancient to have forgotten about it, and even for those who thought vaguely that there was a scent on the wind that was slightly familiar, they had been too young to fully remember the fear and death that followed that smell.

  All those elves and animals who were pregnant miscarried.  Gloves were worn by all elves to avoid touching the surface of the world, the infected, the dying and the dead.  Babies and young children cried for the comfort of a touch, but no parent dared to risk it.  Some elves hid themselves away underground to escape the blackness that descended upon them.  Others climbed high into the trees to wait it out, waiting for stronger winds and harder rains and flooding to cleanse the forest.

  This was an evil far worse than gnolls.  There was no warning of its approach, no surviving its touch, no defense, no armor strong enough.

  This is the grimma, and it is coming.

Words for Wednesday