More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.
This follows from last week’s snippet.
“It may be best to wait and find your Caller in the morning,” he [Gundrin] said. “There are… other forces here in the city, and they are stronger at night. But we can keep you safe here until daylight.”
“I don’t know,” she said, frowning uncertainly. “The Call has been growing more… desperate, more urgent. And it seems to be both stronger and weaker.”
“Try to wait if you can,” he advised. “For the safety of all involved.”
There was almost a pleading tone in his voice and she looked at him curiously, but any question she was going to ask was cut off by what could only be described as a scream that was felt, not heard, and she bolted to her feet, her heart leaping, her body tense. “I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing her pack. “I have to go. I…”
“I understand,” Gundrin replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I felt it as well.”
Kestra barely heard him; she was already on her way out the door, Veren at her heels. Gundrin shook his head sadly as they left, and retreated to his room to pray for the protection of them all…
I thought maybe I should post a bit of an explanation/blurb in progress for you to give you some sort of idea about the world I’m playing in for this:
Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.
Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.
Almost no one.
There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.
There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.
And, gradually, a balance was achieved.
Sort of.
Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.
In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.
But also in the cities, magic remained.
Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population.
Veren was one such human.
Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden.
Jopie was one such child.
And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.
Kestra was one such person.
(Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)
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