More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

“So why didn’t they just come after him directly?”

“If you ever have the misfortune of meeting those of the Temples you’ll understand.” He glanced down at her. “But I’m going to do everything in my power to keep that from happening.” He was vaguely surprised to realize that he meant it, that all thoughts of duty to his Masters at the Temple were gone. He smiled, suddenly feeling free for the first time in his life. No matter what happened, he would not trade this feeling for anything in the world.

An overly long blurb:

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.)

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

“What were those things that were attacking him? And what happened to them?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what they were; I’ve never encountered them before. As to what happened to them, I sent them away. Hopefully back to their home realm where they’ll be much happier.”

The boy rejoined them as she finished speaking, a small bundle clasped tightly in his arms. “Ready?” she asked, and he nodded, bringing a smile to her lips at the first real communication from him.

“A better question,” she said as they started back toward the street, “is why they were attacking him.”

“You said it yourself,” Veren said. “He’s a Shaman. He has power. The Temples don’t like what they can’t control.”

“So why didn’t they just come after him directly?”

An overly long blurb:

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.)

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

“Then we should go.” She turned back to look at the young ogre who had joined them silently, still hanging back a bit, but close enough to hear them. “Do you live far from here? We need you to gather your things so we can leave before more trouble comes.”

He studied her for a moment then turned and darted into the alley, disappearing behind a pile of rubble. 

Veren shook his head. “I doubt he has ‘things.’ Most here have only what they’re wearing.”

 Kestra smiled. “He’s a shaman. He’ll have ‘things.’ We all do.”

An overly long blurb:

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.)

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

She joined Veren at the entrance to the alley, and looked up at him questioningly. 

“What you did to those… things… it’s bound to have gotten the attention of the Temple Priests. We should be on our way before they come to investigate.”

“Do you really think they will come here at night?” she asked worriedly. “You and Gundrin both warned me against it.”

Veren shrugged. “I don’t know. Depends on how strong they are at the moment. If they have enough militia in-house, they’ll come.” He tried to remember how many troops were at the Temple he had come from, but he was just a Temple Guard – and not freely at that – and not part of their organization. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he repeated, suddenly feeling worthless.

An overly long blurb:

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.)

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.