The Legend of Odus - A draft prelude to 'Children of the Storm'

The Legend of Odus - A prelude

By Andrew Bruce Fisk © January 2013


Odus stood alone.

The frost covered the blooded ground, hiding the savage end of his once mighty army. The wind tore at his features. His eyes bled.

For once the warrior lord of the aesira was silent. There was no need for words. It was over.

Yet he knew that something was left undone. The day’s violence had failed to right the wrongs done over the ages past. His enemies still massed out in the darkness beyond his reach.

Presently one of the others approached. The warlord refused to acknowledge the newcomer. This moment of grief was private.

Malmeac watched his father’s weakness with disdain. Wordlessly he offered the cup of victory to the king and then withdrew. The snow swirled white dust into his eyes.

The sword thane retreated from the hill edge leaving Odus exposed to his thoughts. The north wind continued its torment onslaught on the land. An age could pass and he would not notice. After a time he raised the battered warhorn his youngest son had given him to his lips and tasted the blood of his enemy.

The war with the elder race was not over. It had drawn the greatest minds and talents of the aesira people into it’s murderous web. Odus had sworn to end the bloodshed. He had  attempted to make peace with this ancient foe. The pact had ended badly and so the struggle had dragged more young lives into the void. This had been the battle to end all conflicts. The cost had been high. Many thousands of ganthir and the pride of the aesira bled now into the cold earth.

But an ending must come. Powers and forces unheard of prior to this moment in time were at work. Odus saw the shape of the mortal realm as it twisted in pain under the arcane assault. The earth would sustain no more. The fate of his kind and those he had sworn to protect was at stake.

The light of the realmstar dimmed as it descended to the edge of the horizon. It cast out long shadows from the stunted trees and rocky outcrops that marked the position of the lord. He cast his cloak about his body. His armour was tattered and gave no protection from the chill air. His figure cut into the sky. A dark soldier rimmed by fire. His remaining followers were scattered. Only the remnant of his household waited for him. He felt alone.

The krell circled high on currents driven up from the wounded land. Their scales bore the sign of recent combat. Their prey awaited them below but the time was not yet right. Impatiently they beat their wings, uttering obscene words in a language known to few. They hid at the edge of the void ready for violence. One among them wept. She had known a form other than that of the avian lizard kind. She had walked the earth. She had loved and borne children to one of the soft skins. Now imprisoned in a body of scale and claw she was forced to watch while her kin planned murder. Her lover waited below.

The night came and still Lord Odus stood apart from his kinmen. The one known as Icronicer watched his lord with anxiety evident in his young features. Odus was his father. He was eldest son. The greatsword of his ancestors would one day fit into his hands. It was not a day Icronicer would welcome. To one side the sisters waited. They too wanted their father to return to the safety of the camp. Korro was eldest of the two. Her dark hair covered her face. She wore no helm but the scars of battle marked this shieldmaiden deeply. To her side Frengyr stood silent. She was the younger sister. Older than Icronicer but bloodline and inheritance was measured through the male line. That was aesira custom. Korro noticed her brother’s stare. She returned it with a intensity that could have drawn blood. Nearby the ganthir huscarla shuffled their feet. Even they missed their masters presence.

Soft footsteps in the snow brought the young prince back from his woolgathering. His brother had returned.

‘Greatings Malmeac. It is done?’

The other stepped into the torchlight that marked Icronicer’s position. The flickering light cast shadows across the face of the Kings sword bearer. Eyes of glass shone briefly before being concealed once more by a hood of dark wool. The youngster was cold perhaps?

“Brother, you have nothing to fear. I have done my part.’

Icronicer shifted his weight, grasping tight on the tent post beside him. The enormity of this moment drained him of his strength. He covered his weakness. It was not wise to show vulnerability in front of a sibling.

“I will tell the Queen.” He managed after a moment.

“She is not part of this.” Malmeac whispered. His face hidden by the folds of his robe. “But I am sure she would have approved of our, initiative.”

The others listened. Silent in their compliance. Korro looked up into the night sky. Her face unreadable.

“So it is done.” Icronicer spat the words from his mouth.

High above them a cry reached out. A savage call of the wild carried to the camp of the aesira by the wind.

Odus stood alone. He was truly alone this time. Out in the darkness he saw them come. One by one they dropped. diving down to meet him. Intent on rending his battered limbs. He knew help would not come. The poison his son had given him was meant to weaken not kill. He knew his children well. The tears ran free now. He had lived many lifetimes as the younger races knew time. He had fathered many offspring and the true blood of the aesira would run in many veins after he had gone. The war would end.

He saw them approach. Out of the void they swarmed Dozens of full grown krell. Spawn of the elder race sent to do the bidding of their masters. The pact was complete. His life would be given as a peace price. He saw her then. Leading the pack. Regret burned briefly through his mind and then a stillness gripped him. This was the moment. The final act. They came for him then. Piercing an unresisting defence with razor like accuracy.

Odus of the aesira died that night.

The earth split asunder with the force of the event. Fire streaming into the black sky. The others watched the murder happen. Unmoving and unrepentant except for one.

And then the night crowded in. The demons retreated leaving the fields of war. Korro walked forward alone. the wind whispered through the scattered trees and she strained to hear the words. What could they say? A final message from the one she had promised to follow.

She reached the place where her father had stood. She knew she would find no trace of her father. He was gone.

Grief and anger mixed before turning to determination. She looked back at the distant camp where her family waited for news. She smiled. Speaking quietly so the others would not catch the words.

“This is not the end.”

The power of art.

A picture tells a thousand words. Is this true and what does the image say about the artist?

I love fantasy artwork. It is mind expanding in a safe, healthy sense of the term. Past meets future in an experience shared between the author and the viewer. Just like books.

When I draw I sometimes get frustrated with my current lack of technique. I want to be able to paint to the same standard as the many images I see on the Internet. I want have on paper or screen what I already 'see' in my mind's eye. Art for me is even more potent than words.

And it lifts my mood.

Art can make a statement. It can be a tool or weapon. It can do amazing things for the human psyche. The detail of a drawing can absorb the attention so much as to distract the observer from all kinds of emotional harm that life has thrown in the way.

And in its simplest form it free to produce.

Why not take up drawing or painting if you do not already practice. Discover the secrets that are hidden within and revel in the joy of creating something.

Life a better life. Share with others what you see inside. It is a good thing to do.

Why not?

Hope drawn from the ancients.

Human beings do not change that much. I have been researching various ancient European cultures and I am struck by how similar they are to our current society. Technology has advanced. particularly in the field of medicine and warfare. The rights of women and minorities have also move on. Mostly in a good way. There are many things that have not changed.

People are born. They grow, wonder at life and they struggle. Humans fall in love, grieve lost ones and we all have to face the consequences of lost opportunities. We live in the same world as our ancestors and we are bound by much the same limitations.

Studying the past does not mean I want to live in the past. I believe that humanity can progress to a better state. The energy of the Celtic monks and later the Vikings in braving the might of the worlds oceans is still with us today. The ingenuity of the Egyptians in building the monuments of their civilisation is burned into our DNA. The evil of the past can be defeated. The challenges of the time ahead are nothing compared to the struggle our ancestors faced in the last ice age.

We will survive and prosper.

I think that each one of us is responsible for our own actions and for the overall well being of our world. If every individual puts their life in order, consider the impact of his or her actions on others and looks for positive outcomes then there is always going to be hope.

Better times are ahead. I have faith in humanity.

Time for new beginnings

The snow is being shrugged off the trees around my home in Stroud. The English winter is coming to an end. The sun is out and there is a chance that things will improve.

Lets hope so.

Nature inspires some of the best writing. I just love the way that despite the fact I have lived where I am now for years I still notice something new every day. The seasons change and reveal even more to me every year that passes. Living like this is good.

Spring time marks the start of my writing year. I never can get much done during the dark sober days of the winter but when the evenings draw out and light levels improve my spirits rise and I hit the keyboard.

2013 promises to be a bumper year. I hope to finish 'Children of the Storm' and my other work 'The Keodu Sequence' will move closer to first draft completion as well. I have plans for a interactive fiction book or series of books. That may wait until next year but the planning and ground work will happen sooner than that. Lots to do and much to anticipate. Good.

So I hope that this year marks a productive time for you as well. Lets all enjoy the promise of good weather that may soon come and the improvements in our spirit and material situation that I hope will accompany it. There is no point in looking back. The past is gone.

Here's to the future.

Putting stress where it belongs.

We all face pressure in our lives. Welcome to the twenty first century. In truth stress has been a part of the human condition since our species climbed out of the trees. The reaction we have to circumstances in which we are either unable to avoid or to deal is common to every single person on the planet.

Anger, anxiety, depression, insomnia, fatigue, physical pain... The list is long one. The human stress reaction grips us all at some point.

I have learned that this is driven by the mind subconsciously instructing the body to react in a certain way, the body responding by producing chemicals that make the brain malfunction.

Break the cycle.

If you suffer from a bad stress reaction there are a number of ways to tackle the situation. physical exercise is good. exposing yourself to positive stimulus is also useful. I often spend a few minutes on my  Pinterest site looking at good, wholesome images. Laughter is brilliant.

I have also discovered that I can sometimes simply 'instruct' my mind and body to stop 'playing silly buggers.' I just simply clear my thoughts. Order my brain to relax my body. Remind myself that the headaches and fatigue is an illusion. a couple of minutes will past and loo and behold the headache is gone and I am (usually) bursting with energy once more. Magic? Rubbish. The body can release chemicals to counteract the chemicals it had released previously.

Mind over matter does work.

I have suffered from immense stress with the family problems I have previously posted about. I hope some of this helps you. It applies to everyone. Life is full of choices. Some triggers can never be avoided. Human beings are strong whether or not that particular individual considers that to be the case. Make a choice.

Take control.

Being more Agile.

Books take much longer to write than to read. That is an eternal fact. I would like to get potential readers a little more involved in my creative process so that the story becomes more 'real' to more people for longer.

I have been thinking about the concept of being more agile with my writing. Agile Publishing sounds quite interesting. I would publish an interim draft of a chapter or scene, ask for feedback and then based on what is said (And my own judgement of course) amend the section accordingly.

I am going to attempt this with my second draft of 'Children of the Storm.'

If this works I will do it more regularly. If not I won't. It is that simple.

My other idea involves crowd funding. I have some fantastic ideas for content rich e-books. I would have to distill these into a concrete project plan but why not use sites like Kickstarter, Indigogo etc to pitch the idea and find out early whether anyone would want to read them?

It is a challenge to move beyond the point where a writer is creating stories for him or her self and then has to         share his or her vision with the general public. That has always had to be faced at the point of publication. With agile publishing or crowd funding all that is happening is that this point arrives earlier.

So I will give it a go.

If I am any good it might even work hey?

Tell a good tale.

What is your earliest memory? The one you you associate with the beginning of childhood.

For me it is Star Trek.

I love science fiction. Weren't Kirk and Spock great? Saving the galaxy, fighting off wonderful nasty monsters and meeting beautiful space princesses. Fantastic stuff. A bit later on I saw the Star Wars trilogy (Wow) and more serious material such as 2001, Silent Running, Blade Runner (My favourite film of all time) and many more mind expanding pieces of fiction.

At a similar point I was reading Tolkein and CS Lewis and many other brilliant speculative fiction authors. Whether it was Han Solo, Dave Bowman or Frodo Baggins I was seeing characters that inspired me.

These kind of stories are liberating. They should provoke new thoughts and ideas. They must entertain. I had a happy childhood thanks to those wonderful men and woman who wrote, acted and directed in them.

Thanks guys.

Maybe I can carry on this tradition. To do 'good work' with my creative writing is my top objective. The best thing any writer can do is to inspire someone else.

Wish me luck.

Regeneration

What a funny day, in a weird as well as mildly comical sense.

I am a rather quiet chap. I am considered (I hope) to be gentle, considerate and maybe slightly too diffident. The last few weeks have seen some changes in me. After 18 months of prolonged and extreme stress relief has finally come. You can read about that in my other recent postings to this blog.

Do you ever feel you are acting out a scene from some science fiction play, book or movie  Life, at the moment, seems a bit like that.

I am rediscovering things I used to know about myself all the time. Today I nearly lost my temper. Instead I 'threw it away' rather than losing it. I redirected sudden rushes of adrenaline triggered by some trivial and infinitely forgettable event in my daily life. I did not get stressed. The old fight or flight reaction set in and I chose to defend myself. I think that is a good sign.

So massive bursts of energy and a changing personality. Its a bit like David Tennet morphing into Matt Smith. I wish I was as good looking as either of those chaps.

Just to re-assure any of you who are beginning to worry. I am not a alien from Galifrey. Just a normal bloke, reacting in a normal way to circumstances thrown in my direction. Things will settle down.

But I will never be the same again.

Those special words.

I spent my lunch hour staring out across the snowfields that circle the place where I work. My employer's premises are a converted farm. It is a gorgeous place to work. I enjoy my time there.

So much time is spent doing things we hate. As humans we have an inbuilt instinct to survive and sometimes that is all we can mange to do. Life is about more than survival.

2012 was a hard year for me.

Cancer is a difficult subject. When someone close to you contracts this cruel disease life goes on hold. Last year I struggled to survive.

With both my parents seriously ill it seemed an indulgence to continue on as normal, as if anything could be normal again. I had to keep working. I had to pay the mortgage. Food had to be bought. The tax man knew nothing about my pain.

My writing suffered. Quite rightly. Very few words emerged onto the hard disk of my computer. The ones that did were special. I will remember the few occasions I dared to write that year all my life. Light in the darkness.

Mum and Dad got better. Their illnesses were treated. I recovered form the onslaught of stress. I am still recovering if truth be told.

I love my art. My life is good once more. I hope that last year's battles have made me stronger and a better person. I know they have made me a better writer.

If things are dark keep going. Every human has a immense reservoir of strength just waiting to be tapped. Do not give up. Stress and pain are part of life but they are not its sum total.

And keep writing.

Waiting for the morning.

The sun has yet to come up as I write these words. I am wondering what today has in store. I do not watch the news on television these days so I have no idea if anything terrible is happening over which I have absolutely no influence. Maybe that is good thing? I am not too sure if ignorance is ever good.

I absorb too much. That is why I shut myself away sometimes. I like to analysis my thoughts. Understand why I react to specific triggers. I am super sensitive to other peoples emotional bad (and good) habits. Some people think that makes me 'anti-social.' I know it is why I am a writer.

But I love being with people. 'People Watching.' I like meeting new and old friends. I love and care about 'society' That is why I write. I want to do something meaningful with my life and as I have hinted at in previous posts I want my work to help others.

Frustration with a dark world driven mad by the policies of cynical men and woman should not stop anyone from hoping (and working towards) something better.

I may test software.  That is how I pay the mortgage. I dream of being able to change things. Building something greater with like minded people. I used to do 'Politics'. I used to watch the news. Now I wait and wonder what the day brings.

Thoughts on a winter evening

It has been snowing in the west country of England where I have my home. I know other parts of the world face much greater challenges with the weather but give us a couple of snowflakes and the whole fabric of the United Kingdom seizes up. It is traditional.

The cold weather has given me the chance to think. For a writer this should be a good thing and largely this has proved to be true. I have had plenty of ideas for stories and characters to fill up more of the available space in my various notepads. More importantly I have found the opportunity to reflect on where I am going as a person.

I work in software. I am good at what I do. I am glad to be in work in this time of economic trial so I will not start complaining. I love my job.

But there has to be something more.

I dream of earning a living by writing. This is selfish. It is an indulgence. My parents are poorly. There are homeless people living on the streets of my home town. There is so much hopeless in the world in which I live and all I want to do is tell fairy stories and imaginary friends. Dragons and rocket ships don't feed the hungry. They don't warm cold houses or find work for the jobless.

Creative writing is a distraction? A waste of time. Non-productive maybe?

Maybe not.

Stories shape our lives. Every human society that exists or has ever existed has been driven by the power of the story. Physicists talk about referential models of reality. We understand our world by constructing partial theories, images and imaginative concepts. We tell stories. A single story has the power to change the world.

I want to spend my time on this gorgeous planet of ours by telling stories that matter. This may mean I have to learn to write something that matters not just to myself. I need to expand my horizons and share my dreams. My dreams are pretty good by the way.

Do not waste your life. Start writing.

The words will wait.

This is my first post of the year.

2013 is when I hope to release my first major e-book. I have been working for the last three years on a short novel or novella which I am calling 'Children of the Storm.' It has been a frustration time in which I have struggled to progress beyond the first draft. Life got in the way. I had hoped to publish the completed work in the autumn of 2011. My mother became unwell and my plans, quite rightly, were put on one side.

2012 came and went. Still no progress. My mother recovered towards the end of last year. Life re-started.

The time that the manuscript has spent on the shelf has been useful. I have re-discovered the characters that drive the story forward. I have adapted to new methods of creating outlines and I have developed the back story for the fantasy universe in which the book will be placed.

I am a firm believer that nothing in life is wasted. Writers need to draw on many different kinds of experiences to develop compelling stories. The struggle of 2012 will lead, I hope, to a productive and successful 2013.

My advice to anyone torn between the pressure to complete their life's work and the enviable demand of life outside of fiction is to be realistic. Writing is fantastic lifestyle. It is rewarding on a spiritual level. There are, however, more important considerations that sometimes arise. I speak from experience. Look after your health and the ones you love. The words will wait.

So have a happy and rewarding new year. If you are planning to publish this year then I wish you the best of luck. My words have waited for me for a long time but now I am giving them the attention they deserve.

Until next time.