Edge of The Black

It has been nearly fifteen years since I started my writing journey. Come October, I would have spent the majority of my life working on building this world, creating everything therein, from the characters, the locations, the terrains, the creatures, the languages, the mythology and lore but more importantly, constructing a complex and entertaining story which encapsulates Human emotions and as many different situations and scenarios as possible, both good, bad and everything in between on a huge and small scale. Looking back when I started, I had absolutely no idea how it would grow, what it would become and what the world would look like as time went by, I was new to this game but felt compelled to start at the very bottom and work my way up, just to see what would happen, glimpsing here and there into my imagination, struggling to build, all the time asking the question; Is this worth it? The answer to that question is, yes, absolutely YES! I worked off my own experiences and what I saw around me for inspiration and help to fill the gaps. I remember a time where I did not have this story, where I did not know the characters, but even then, found myself thinking of stories, continuing other people’s visions that finished, wondering what would happen afterwards, some call this brain training of a kind but I had no idea what I was training myself for, I just kept thinking about things which had ultimately no consequence, I kept escaping, kept creating things in the black space of my mind. My world was once a bleak and baron place, it was nothing but a void I could walk around quite freely in with nothing around me in all directions. All I had there was a candle which gave minimal light, but as I wrote, as I began to record my creations and nurture them, instead of letting them go and forgetting them, things started to happen, the ideas began to set. Every time I came back to this space, I’d find something new here and there, a plant growing in the distance, a tree perhaps, some ruins of a structure nearby, a strange creature would make an appearance every so often, one that I had sketched out and designed months ago. I’d begin to feel temperatures, I’d hear water running and the wind blowing. Unfortunately, I could not be in this place all the time or as much as I wanted to, life has a way of getting in the way of what I truly want to do. I’ve been through my fair share, getting sick, working in dead end jobs, failing relationships, travelling and so on. Sometimes I’d spend large amounts of time away from this place and it would be strange returning after a long absence, but do you know what? Every time I’d come back for a lengthy visit or just a brief one, the blackness would be ever so slightly faded, the landscape would be busier, there would be a little bit more each and every time. The colours were less black and white and more embodied with vibrance. Gradually, as the years ticked by, the world began to build itself without my presence, things would just fall into place and I’d no longer need a candle to light the way, for the sun would rise and fall, the stars would shine and the inhabitants were alive. I’d be able to visit the Cities as large if not larger than our own, I’d be able to see what was in the sky above the clouds, delve into the core of the earth, swim out to the oceans and walk on the sea bed among the reefs. This place is no longer dark, this place is real for me and it is only expanding. The black is still there I cannot deny, and still dwarfs that of which I’ve built so far. Standing on the edge of the black is scary, especially as it recedes like the tides. I still have no idea what it will unveil, what is out there yet to be discovered, but the more I write, the more I uncover, and it’s always exciting.

When I review this work, and believe me I review it often, I see things that may need changing, may need altering in some way, but some things have been in my thoughts for so long that they do not need adjusting anymore, one such scene is depicted here, in this Blogs display picture. My skills at drawing and Graphic Design have served me well, I’ve designed pretty much everything at this point, going to University was worth it, it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. However, there are some things I will not be able to do unless a great amount of time is spent poured into the craft, time that I simply do not have. So I set out to find myself an artist who shared the same passion and love of creation as me. I put out a job opportunity online describing what I wanted, giving a very brief overview of the project and awaited a response. Within hours of putting out the job, dozens of artists from all over the world were interested, sending me some of their best works, selling themselves as best they could, I was flattered that so many were willing to help. Some, as talented as they were did not read the job description and were simply not what I was looking for so I passed them. Others were a little more on point but were more fantastical than what I was after, and again as awesome as some of the work presented to me was, the overall tone was off, I wanted a concept artist who could capture both a realistic and fantasy element, which contained the best of both worlds. After a lot of time searching through each and every artist even talking to a few of them in the early hours, I stumbled across one in particular who appeared on screen but hours later, disappeared from the list of those interested. Luckily, I remembered a link to his page on Deviant Art (I’ll leave the link below) and I went ahead and checked it out. Almost immediately, after viewing one of his first pieces, I knew that this was my guy, not only did he have the necessary skills, but he had that sense of tone, the element of fantasy mixing it well with realism within the artwork. It was just what I was looking for, so I dropped him a message. Turns out that he was indeed interested, a big project such as mine was what he was looking for, but due to an overloaded schedule, illness and while being in the process of perfecting his craft, he had to decline. Fair enough I thought, there must be someone else out there who could do what I was looking for, but after weeks of searching and vetting others, my list was running short.

I began to go off the idea, maybe it wasn’t the right time for this work to be depicted by another artist, maybe I should be focusing more on writing Episode Two. On a whim, I messaged the artist again, hoping his schedule had loosened, hoping he would re-consider. Not expecting a reply back, at least not for quite some time, I carried on as usual, going to work every day, writing bits and pieces as often as I could, filling notebooks, saving money and visiting the black now and then. Then, out the blue, an e-mail from the artist himself, not only had he agreed to illustrate the three concepts but he sent me a better sketch of what I had originally done. Overjoyed, we got right to work, I fed him my vision and he carefully illustrated, assembled and coloured it. The final version is what you see above in the picture, and I think it is masterfully done. This brings me back to the black, what you see here is part of my world, ironically it is a picture of destruction, not hopeful creation, but we can expect two more of these by the artist named Bojan, all the way from Serbia, and this is the first concept we’ve completed. It is called ‘The Ancestral Odyssey – Ruins of Imrondel.’ For those of you who have read Episode One – The Utopian Dream, which is available on Kindle soon to be on Paperback from Amazon, this illustration depicts the opening, Chapter One – And So It Ends and appears again in Chapter Fifty One – The Precipice. Bojan has done a remarkable job with the use of light, going from a beautiful sun set, a view of majesty and descends into darkness and chaos, giving the viewer and reader a sense of how the book unfolds. The character in the corner is one of two protagonists, I will not spoil anything for I hope you are curious enough by now to learn more, to find out what happens next.

As I said, this is the first of three illustrations/concepts to come, it IS important to the first book, a close representation of the very first scene you read. I’ve yet to talk to Bojan about the second piece which will likely portray the female protagonist (Isabelle, whose voice can be heard in the teaser trailers), standing before one of the mighty Celestials in another key moment in the story. I very much look forward to seeing how this next concept is handled. I hope you’ve enjoyed this article, I hope like the artwork because I most certainly do. When I settle down in one place I do plan to hang this on my wall in a fabulous frame. Please, please please visit Bojan’s page and drop him a kind message. The amount of time he puts into his work is phenomenal, one of the reasons I chose him over the rest was because of the fact he favours the worthiness of his craft over anything else, plus all creatives know that a kind word here and there, is more valuable than a bit of temporary weight in your wallet. Also, please consider a purchase of my book ‘The Ancestral Odyssey: The Utopian Dream.’ At the moment it is only available on Kindle devices but a Paperback will be release soon in July, August at the very latest. Check out Bojan’s and my pages, add me on Twitter, drop me an E-mail, all links can be found below. Thank you so much for reading and I’ll see you very soon for an Alien: Covenant Review. Peace!

D.W.Gill’s Author Page – https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01JMZ2BE6

Bojan Sucevic’s Deviant Art Page – http://sucevicbojan.deviantart.com/

E-Mail – taotome@outlook.com

Twitter – @MegasTeque

Promotional Trailers and Radio Clip – https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-nc_VEmC27AIz6pP51UVkQ

D.W.Gill

Colliding Minds – Excerpt Three

Before I share with you my final excerpt of Episode Two – Rise of The Black Doves, I wish to express my deepest sympathy for the families and friends who’ve lost loved ones due to the Manchester bombing a few days ago. My thoughts are with you all, what happened was a terrible, unforgivable tragedy. I hope everyone who is suffering is able to pull through over the coming weeks and months to show these terrorist groups that we will not hand them our terror, that we are stronger and more resilient than they ever will be. RIP to those who are no longer with us, you will not be forgotten.

Also, RIP Sir Roger Moore, to hear of his passing was upsetting and I’ll always remember him for his role as the legendary, 007. When I return to the UK I’ll be sure to watch a selection of his films that I’ve not seen as tribute to this fine actor.

This will be the third and final excerpt I share with you on my Blog. Although the previous two were a success and you guys and gals seemed to really enjoy them, I feel like this is enough to keep you all eager for Episode Two’s release, which has unfortunately been pushed back from a June-July launch day to an unspecified time at this point. As like with the other excerpts which I hope you check out after this one if you haven’t already, content is very likely to change over time during the writing process, but I assure you that all three excerpts will appear in the final draft. This segment has been condensed for your own enjoyment but please be aware that it has been spread over the course of a chapter in the book, mixed up among other character story lines.

Feel free to E-Mail me, tell me what you think and so fourth, follow me on Twitter and be sure to consider purchasing Episode One on Kindle from the Amazon Store. A Paperback Edition is in this works, the moment I get the final edit back from my editor it will be formatted and up for sale asap, I could not anticipate this any more than I already do, it is beyond exciting. Also, a concept artist will have a rendition of the opening scene in Episode One ready by the end of next month, maybe sooner if we’re lucky, I am looking forward to seeing his interpretation of this epic story through a painting.

Contact links will be provided below as always. I pulled the image of the Ying Yang off of Google, it does not belong to me but I cannot name drop the artist or his or her website because there is none to be found, it’s a fantastic image and works well for the context of this scene. I hope you enjoy one of my favourite moments in Episode Two – Rise of The Black Doves. Grab yourself a coffee before you immerse yourself once more, in the world of Equis.

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     Denzel neared the opened doors of the auditorium, before he entered he rest his board up next to the wall and placed his premade roll up in his front coat pocket to be lit and enjoyed later. Inside the light was very faint, a round portion of the roof could be lifted by the use of levers inside to manage temperatures and light, but currently this round hatch was not in use, and was shut tight. The hall sunk low, down toward a grand centre stage with thick wooden floor boards. Ringed around the stage were widening rows of seats behind conjoined work surfaces, on a usual day, these rings would be full of attendants of Gaia, to listen and to learn from well-educated lecturers and teachers. Upon this wooden stage was a black chalk board. Half of what was written upon it had been recently wiped away with a duster, but something decipherable remained written upon it, something profound. Professor Atheriax was on the stage, sitting on a tall stool behind a high rectangle table reading from a notebook. He wore black lecturing robes over a dark green expensive waist coat, his tie was purple, his shoes were polished, his appearance in general was smart and very neat, a man of the modern age. Denzel found a pair of small brass binoculars attached to a thin rod lying on one of the seats close by. These must have been left behind by a student. He looked through the lenses and read what was on the chalk board. Taking away the binoculars from his eyes, he begun the calculations in his head, dividing up the numbers, reducing their meaning into singularities until he was left with one, the answer. Denzel knocked on the door with one hand twice, putting the lenses back onto the seat. Master Professor Caleb Atheriax, swiveled around on his stool and looked up, squinting his eyes and smiled at the arrival of his guest. Denzel stood still, waiting for a further invitation. This was Caleb’s building after all, one of his workplaces, it would be rude to just stroll on in after arriving so late. “Denzel Suade! How nice of you to come. I thought you might not make it. You have a tendency to be pre-occupied with other matters, mostly work related I assume. I respect that. It’s always good to see a man caring about his occupation as much as I do, whatever it may be” said Caleb, closing the notebook, putting it onto his desk and pushing it away from himself “Please, come in, take a seat.” Denzel began to descend the stairs that split the ringed rows of seats that lead down to the hall, he did this in no hurry for a calculation were still taking place in his head. “Caleb Atheriax, as do you have a tendency to show devotion to your work? It’s an admirable feature I like to see in someone, unfortunately lacking in most people I meet” Caleb put his hands together and rest his back up on his wooden stool “I think there is a Master Professor in there somewhere, but I’ll excuse you.” Denzel sided a smile to this statement and then drew his attention to the chalk board. Caleb could see that his eyes were taking a keen interest in it “That code, written upon your board” said Denzel. “It pre-dates our origins and has its own historical life to draw on” Caleb explained, secretly thrilled that Denzel could engage with him in conversation about it. “Indeed, it predates our own origins by a significant amount of time, seven millennia I’d say was accurate. Wouldn’t you agree?” asked Denzel, hands behind his back, gradually getting nearer. Caleb agreed, dipping his head the one time. Denzel got back to studying the board “This is not a phrase, it’s what some people call a hybrid equation, more than rare” said Denzel being everything Caleb had expected “A combination of highly advanced mathematical numerals whisked in with ancient philosophy, blended with chemistry and biology all written in a language from an extinct predeceasing race, existing seven thousand years ago, seven and a half more accurately speaking. Interesting” said Denzel, studying the code as quickly as he could, it speaking to him on a level he had not encountered before, at least some of it did, worryingly, other pieces of the riddle were fuzzy, out of focus for his mind to make sense of, but they would soon be deciphered and made visible if he kept pace with his mental calculations. “If the hybrid speaks to you Denzel, I’ll have to give you a prize, a prize of the century” said Caleb. Denzel’s attention left the board and fixed itself on to Caleb’s much older, wiser face. The Professor still had all of his hair, though there were signs of greying at the roots near his temples, he looked good for his elderly age, he wasn’t skinny or ill, he could walk perfectly well with pride, jog even put on a run if he wished “Welcome to my auditorium Mr Suade, treat this as if it were your study area, during closed hours of course.” Denzel looked around the auditorium while he strolled steadily down the steps, his footsteps echoing around this rich lecturing hall. “It’s impressive, a fine work place indeed. I’m envious of your achievements and jealous of the many places you’ve visited that I have yet to” he praised genuinely, chin held up high. “As am I Mr Suade, as am I. I’ve heard about you and what you wish to accomplish, I wish you the best of luck it being such a tricky subject to fathom, one of the hardest, the human mind” said Caleb “But not impossible to unlock.” “Thank you, sir” replied Denzel. “I’ve been following your progress as best I can Denzel, but I’m a busy man as you know” Denzel nodded as he neared the stage, eyes occasionally drifting to and from the board, hiding his concern for he had not one singularity yet, but dozens and counting building upon one another “Tell me, how is the postal service coming? I hear it can get particularly hectic around this time of year” “It’s manageable, so long as everyone does their part things get done on time, but no one can help unforeseeable mishaps” Denzel answered. “I see. I had a package that was late yesterday, the contents of which were rather important to me. I felt like dropping by your establishment to make an enquiry but I never got round to it. Do not worry, I will not lodge a complaint, the package arrived safely a day afterward, no harm done” Denzel did not reply to this, he just pouted his lips and nodded “Are you pressed for time or do you have a moment to spare?” “I have a moment Caleb, but I won’t be staying long” “Care for a refreshment while we talk?” Caleb offered. “Very much so. What are you serving?” asked Denzel. Caleb invited Denzel on to the stage and lifted up a metal flask from his leather bag resting at the side of his feet “Ground coffee all the way from the tops of mountains in Pura, nearby one of your friend’s estates, The Glazed Vineyards, I only settle for the very best. I hope you do not mind, it’s quite strong and does not contain any sweetener” “Divine, I take it the same way.” Caleb popped the lid and poured a little into two cups, one for himself and one for his guest “Before I forget, you must congratulate Nielata for me next time you see her, I hear she has been granted the rank of High Councillor” Denzel could not help but look at the chalk board, he hesitated to make his response on time which threw him off and the Master Professor caught on, while handing him the cup of hot coffee. “Still trying to figure it out I see?” he asked “It’s a head scratcher I must admit” “Yes, she was named High Councillor Charity after Cillian Landris’s demise. I hope she is ready for the responsibilities that entail, we all do, for her sake” “As do I. I respect those Denzel who rise for great responsibility, to be all that they are, especially in this day and age of, uncertainty. We need good people to see us through these trying times” said Caleb, with his noticeable cultured voice, coming from an older Norkron time in history, while Denzel’s was youthful, similar to a Norkron accent yet not as proper, like he used to speak as any common Requorn but had adapted to the accent of old. After Denzel took the coffee with one hand, Master Caleb held out his hand for a proper greeting. Denzel chose not to see the friendly gesture and instead took a sip of the hot drink and sat down still in admiration of the hybrid equation. Caleb recoiled his hand and closed it, not taking it personally. He turned and sat back down onto his stool, opposing Denzel.

     Master Caleb had a sip of hot coffee, holding the warm cup close to his face with both hands, smelling the rising heat of the dark bitter aroma. Denzel sat opposite, in a laid back slouched position, one hand was deep inside his pocket the other rested around the handle of his cup. His mind, his veiled, inquisitive nature in free flow, forming three trails of thought. One trail was here, present, acting in the moment, taking note of everything the Professor said and did. Another trail was analyzing what little there was to be analyzed in the auditorium, every detail from the scuffs on the chalk board, the cracks in the table, to the clothes the Professor wore, he saw. And finally, the last trail was soaking up more and more of his focus by the minute. It was of course, attempting to find the solution to the hybrid equation. Every move Caleb made, every gesture, remark and facial emotion expressed, Denzel did more than just see it, but he sampled it, had predicted the actions that had not happened yet and dismissed it as if it were as easy and as thoughtless as breathing. He called this practice of his, the foresight waltz. All the while he had to make sure to behave casually and not get lost in his trance, should he overthink, the hesitation could last as long as a noticeable three seconds. “I’ve read your papers, thoroughly. Your studies are explained so eloquently. I have someone in my services, someone I think you may wish to talk to about publishing your work, the first step toward the success you rightly deserve” said Caleb. “Success is subjective, Professor” “Quite right. Living here can become difficult, you’ve probably noticed it during your many tours of the City. Your publication can afford you more comfortable lodgings, a view perhaps and buy you the time to try and perfect what you have built. I can make this happen, if you’d like?” polite were Caleb’s words, kind were his intentions toward Denzel, yet the young lad squinted, crunching his face. Something about what Caleb had just said, Denzel didn’t quite agree with. “Try, and perfect?” he questioned “My work can be understood by any thinking man or woman of the City, anyone who has grown up with a proper education should be able to grasp the practice and what I’ve described therein. Those who decide to read my material are advised in the earliest pages that this requires your full attention, no half-measured amount will do, not in this field of psychology” “But no one knows you’ve written a book, it is only available to a handful of people” said Caleb. “I have other works that take up much of my time, works that have been plaquing me for a troublesome amount of time, two years, eleven months and sixteen days to be precise, and I’d like to be done with it, perhaps then there will be time to see the work I’ve produced be copied and put into libraries for all to read, but for now I’m busy” said Denzel. Caleb smiled and replied “I understood your work, I enjoyed it, but until it’s been put into play, until your practices show promising results in the field, how can I or anyone else for that matter be sure that it works?” Denzel took a heavy breath “I’m undertaking the task as we speak, the field is this room, my field is here, now and everywhere Professor” Caleb’s green eyes met Denzel’s wood brown ones. Caleb looked like he wanted to correct him, but he kept his words saved for a more appropriate time “I will be the one who decides whether or not my methods work, not you or one of your…Students, under your employ. Apologies if I sound rude but I like to speak my mind.” Caleb placed his cup down on the table and said “What you plan to unravel is a bold exercise, to detect choices, reactions and possibilities before the subject is even aware of them themselves. Persons, subjects vary so much, the mind is a diverse and extreme place. I warn you, if you venture inside the heads of your enemies or friends, you may not like what you find” “Let’s stick with enemies for now” said Denzel. “You play a very dangerous game” replied Caleb. “Fortune is often the great reward when paying for it with chests of boldness” said Denzel. “It’s never been done before, this is why I believe in you Denzel, I like how you’ve ignored all your peer’s advice after your graduations, and not hesitated to dive straight into the big leagues of education, but I am left wondering with the question on the tip of my tongue; Why? What set you on this path and what it is you want to actually achieve here?” Denzel took a sip from his coffee cup and savored the taste, dark and bitter “Why don’t you say what you came here to say, Denzel Suade? You said you like to speak your mind. Please do not waste any more of my time” asked Caleb, putting his hands together, awaiting the response of his guest. Denzel stood after the calculations in his head finished their mental arithmetic’s that found him one of many singularities. This one would have to do for now because he knew his presence was becoming unwelcome and awkward. He put his back to the Professor and answered “Upon the board, I’ve noticed your hybrid equation has no ending, just a suggestion, it has no solution. No result is within sight” taking out a pouch of tobacco folded in a brown bag, he started to roll himself up a smoke “This in turn means that either we are both indulging in things we do not fully understand, our knowledge is wrong and will at some point take a drastic turn for better or more than likely, for the worse. Or, this option being far more likely must I add, the code is in fact incomplete, it being part of a much larger equation” Denzel licked the paper, sealing the roll and placed it on the table, he then moved close to the chalk board, standing before it, ready to tackle the problem with what answer he had concluded. He necked his coffee “I’m sorry, may I?” Denzel asked placing the cup down, holding out his hand. Caleb handed him the duster. Denzel erased some of the numerals and smeared out a part of an abbreviation. He carefully re-arranged the equation to how it should have been, using the chalk to fill in the gaps, tweaking a couple of the symbols. Eventually, after a brief period of reorganizing the puzzle, he stepped away, put the chalk on the rim of the board and dusted his hands off, grinning at Caleb. “There, the equation now is not a hybrid but a singular, something we are more familiar with, something we can perhaps put to good use. It has meaning and an answer. It’s easily understandable if you take note of the first few sections” Denzel used his hands to point out what he meant “Here and just here, they must coincide to level out the spikes in radical spontaneity as suffered before, another word, a far simpler word for the spikes is, chaos.” Caleb scratched his chin as he listened “The numbers helpfully direct you to the biology and by that route they lead you to the chemistry. The chemistry is then broken down into easily devised proportions, anyone with a basic knowledge should be able to figure out what this string of code means and, well there you have it, the meaning” “And what does it mean, Denzel?” Caleb knew, he just wanted to hear Denzel say it. “These components Caleb, this equation derived from the prior is a code for…Life” answered Denzel, picking up his roll and popping it in his mouth “Unlike your hybrid which has a variation of endings, endings I could only begin to calculate telling a disturbing and unsettling unfinished story, mine results in hope with the promise of life, rejuvenation and continuation. The ending is the most impressive piece, the ending among the gaps and mathematic poetry is, ingenious.” Caleb gave Denzel an applause “Well done” his thin smile lifted up on to one side of his face. The Professor pulled from his bag a very small box and arose. Coming closer to Denzel, he pulled from inside this box a collection of finely cut sticks and a square sheet of rough sandy paper, he struck the end of one of these sticks along the paper and the end of the stick lit up into a single yellow flame, Denzel leant forward, allowing Caleb to light up his roll and inhaled the smoky, smooth taste of tobacco. Caleb placed the little box on the table and distanced himself from his young guest, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Very well done indeed Denzel” Caleb picked up his coat hanging from the back of his stool, he felt it time for him to leave “I expected nothing less from you” he said throwing his coat over his shoulders. Denzel was just getting comfortable within this man’s presence and now he wanted to leave! “I trust you will show yourself out, forgive me but I have a meeting I must attend to and I do not want to be late” said Caleb, packing up his few belongings, heading for the steps of the stage. As he placed a foot upon the first step Denzel spoke out to him “I’ve chosen my prize.” Caleb turned as did Denzel, restarting the calculations in his head. “I beg your pardon?” questioned Caleb. “Your hybrid equation spoke to me, I suspect you didn’t think it would. Not only did I see through it but I re-arranged it into something practical and useful” “You over credit yourself but, I will do as I said, name your prize” Caleb was quick to cut to the chase. “How about a little honesty, Professor? Remove the veil of lies that protects you from those who think you a friend, clear the shroud of deceit that keeps you safely away from Krondathian justice and drop the mask which shadows your creative genius, and expose to me what lies beneath, your true maniacal nature with an endless appetite for destruction” “You confuse me with someone else” said Caleb. “Then show me?” “Should I do that, Denzel Suade, I believe you’d flee. The side you see now is the only barrier preventing tragedy from befalling on you and everyone you see around you. The notion of your very existence gives me purpose, fills me with warmth of joy that there is at least one person out there, who speaks my language. What pleasure can be gained if we remove you from the field so soon?” asked Caleb. Denzel puffed out some thick smoke and stepped through it as he replied “Tease your subjects Caleb, by all means play them with your games and trickery for you’d win, each and every time. Attempt thus so with me and you’d lose. You’ve picked your battles wisely up to now, and now that you’ve stirred my curiosity like dangling string over a feline, I will attempt to unravel your devises” warned Denzel. “Ah, so the boy detective finally reveals himself at last. You are not here out of common courtesy are you? You are here out of self-gain, am I correct?” asked Caleb, stepping back upon the stage. “Correct” answered Denzel. “Well now that my mask has fallen, it’s time to remove yours. How may I be of service to you Mr Suade?” “Tell me what happened to my father? Last I heard from him he was under your instruction, I have the letter tucked away safe and memorised, its dated two years, eleven months and sixteen days ago” Denzel demanded, taking the roll up out of his mouth after a brief drag. “Like father like son, always asking one too many questions and, venturing into domains you really shouldn’t go. Your father is dead Mr Suade. Do as we all must do and accept that our guardians will die.” “I accept the fact that all guardians die, what I do not accept however is when they are taken before their time. As have many others been lost under your employ, their deaths written off as accidents or unforeseeable incidents, brave sacrifices all for the pursuit of a great cause” “A cause, which will lift our race above any other” “People dyeing is a tragedy Caleb, people dying for a cause they are unaware of is a disgrace. The natural order has been cheated, if what you say is true and my father was slain by yourself or one of your cronies, I will go looking for the evidences, will follow your bread crumb trail all around the world if I have to, and present the evidences I find to the Night Guard head officer in the City, Lance I believe is his name, Fredrick Lance or perhaps I’ll raise a discussion with General Lethaniel Presian himself, he has a knack for slicing up troublemakers, wouldn’t you agree? Of course, you could save me the trouble, make it easy for yourself, and tell me what events occurred and where he is? Should you tell me, I will do you the honour and postpone the chase. Choose wisely, Professor, because whether you like it or not, your days of freedom, your puppets of New Xiondel, will not remain yours for long” said Denzel, repositioning the roll in his mouth. There was a pause between them. Caleb realised that he had long lost Denzel as a potential Student and work partner. Both knew where they stood, the line between them was clear and permanent. “You think that I have not been challenged before, that I have worked without resistance? You disappoint me Denzel with your fragile hollow threats and lose sight of the bigger picture, a picture that ascends far beyond anything you can comprehend. I know this because you failed to see the hybrid for what it is” Denzel did not respond, he held on to a grim expression as Caleb continued “You remind me of your father, you have his strength. He died tragically, keeled over after inhaling highly toxic spoors from the Seizurelock Plant. You are familiar with this particular organism and how it feeds, I assume? We left him where he fell to sleep peacefully within the cove” Denzel could not know if Caleb was speaking the truth but he did know about the Seizurelock Plants, one of the deadliest plants in Equis, getting too close to this plants scent can induce a coma, falling into a flower bed results in death, a very slow death while the plants ingest you through the soil from which they grow, draining all nutrients that reside inside a body. Denzel’s eyes filled and his jaw tightened, he avoided Caleb’s face and looked back at the equation on the chalk board “Feel free to report me to Presian, I can speak a word and he is easily misdirected, like a loyal dog I speak to him as would I be if on his level, it’s humiliating for someone like me. As for the Night Guard Officer, just be aware that it’s thanks to me that they act as our security force at night, they keep us safe from the unlawful, safe from those who want what you have, they watch over the innocent and…The sick, as they sleep in their beds. You have your mother’s eyes, did you know?” Denzel froze, twisted his head and glared at Caleb’s grinning face “Am I right in thinking this will be our last meeting Mr Suade?” asked Caleb, succeeding in getting his warning across. “You’ve done much for this City in which I and my family are thankful for. You have powers surpassing my own and the backing of the law, you think this is enough but I bare you fair warning before you harm anyone else, from one morale Human being to another immoral man cursed with lunacy. Threaten those close to me again and I assure you with a confidence you’ve lost with the tick of time, that not your Night Guard, not those you pay in the shadows for protection or the law itself, will stop me from bringing destruction down upon you” Denzel pressed the end of the roll up on the rim of the board and took his leave, jogging up the stairway between the seats of the auditorium. “Watch yourself out there Denzel, I may need your help toward the end” Caleb called, smearing out the ending of the life equation with his left hand and chalked in what was originally in place, transforming it back into its hybrid complex.

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Copyright © 2017 by D.W.Gill
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including recording, photocopying or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written and signed permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All rights reserved. Published by Taoteque Publishing.
Tha Ancestral Odyssey: Rise of The Black Doves – Volume Four. Written by D.W.Gill.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

E-Mail – taotome@outlook.com

Twitter – @MegasTeque

Author Page – https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01JMZ2BE6

D.W.Gill

A World In Jeopardy – Excerpt Two

It’s been a seriously busy month, what with farm work and your daily nit picky pain in the ass kinda stuff, it all builds up an up and then you realise something when you finally get a chance to pause, that you haven’t actually got anything of real substance done and still have a shed load of boring shit that still needs attending to before you can actually focus on writing new content – And that sucks, because life is seriously short, so short even that I fear I will not finish the entirety of this project before it is my turn to die, I want to have something before my time is up, something that will last longer than the cells inside that keep me ticking. Little bleak I am aware to start off this post but screw it life can be cold sometimes, deal with it because we have no choice. Truth be told I have made some few advancements with the book work, both one and two, I even made a list before I sat down to write this article just to remind myself what it is I’ve done. Once I’ve convinced you that I am not a lazy fucktoid, I’ll hit you with another segment of Episode Two – Rise of The Black Doves, a segment that I am proud of and gives you another angle on what I am going for with The Ancestral Odyssey. Epic does not do this story justice, I need a new word.

-I went over my front cover for the Paperback Edition. I gave it a new texture instead of just plain black. I cleaned up the central symbol and created a neat dreamcatcher which I used for this articles picture. Before you ask, YES, it is relevant to Episode One – The Utopian Dream, and once you read it, you should be able to see the relevance, if not then God help you my friend. Plus it looks kinda cool for the back cover of the book.

-I’ve given Episode One, Kindle Editions an update. I went through hell to format the three Volumes..TWICE! Because there was a problem involved with the set up, but if you check them out after reading this post on Amazon, you’ll see that they look far superior to their older versions, their is a slight clipping of the world map unfortunately but I literally cannot fix that problem, it looks great on Kindle devices but on the ‘Look Inside’ feature on Amazon it is ever so slightly clipped, if anyone can e-mail me on how to sort this, I will love you forever and probably marry you if you’re part of the female race. I really spent a long time on the formatting, I cannot stress that enough, I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep I couldn’t think about anything else other than getting it done, anyone who has formatted before using Word, Calibre and Kindle Previewer will understand the pain/stress and I will use the word trauma in this instance, because if you love a project as much as I love this one, you want to give it the best chance it has to thrive, so please, check it out, consider a purchase or share it with someone who you think will like this stuff, it will be greatly appreciated. I’ll leave all necessary links at the bottom of this post.

-A few months ago I got in touch with an artist I had my eye on and proposed to him a project. The project was to paint three important scenes that occur in The Utopian Dream. I would describe them and even then sketch them myself if needs be, and he would either agree or disagree to do the work. He declined. Among analysing hundreds of other artists from all over the world, none of them (as talented as they were) had the particular style I was looking for, not like the artist I had asked initially from Serbia. So, I messaged him again, just to see if he would re-consider…Yesterday, out of the blue, he sent me a sketch, a first draft of the first scene I described and it looked..Incredible. After re-establishing contact, after a quick back and fourth, he is on board with the project. Soon I’ll be able to show you visual imagery from a professional artist depicting three scenes in Episode One, and I could not be anymore excited about this.

-This last note is a little detail, but worth mentioning. During this last month, I have filled a notebook to the brim of ideas for future instalments and some of them will take this story to a level not even I thought it was capable of and it scares me to think about what else it can do or go, its crazy. I wrote about the importance of carrying a notebook around with you at all times if you are an aspiring or a full time writer. Check out my post ‘The Notebook’ for an interesting read, I think it was my second post on WordPress.

Okay, I think that brings us up to date, thank you for reading up to this point. Now, here is another segment of Episode Two – Rise of The Black Doves that I promised, I really hope you enjoy it. I received a lot of positive feedback from my last article entitled Witch’s Awakening, a segment which reveals one of my favourite characters from Equis’s dark historical period called Mythorigin (Equis is the name of my world if you didn’t already know). Again, links to my work are all listed at the bottom, do not hesitate to share or get in touch, responses may be late because I work a fair bit and internet while travelling is scarce. Please bear in mind that this segment is scattered among others in between, there will be things you understand, some things have been covered in previous chapters, and of course this is only an unedited first draft, so go easy on me if you see any errors, there are a few spoilers that have overlapped from the first book, you’ve been warned. Thank you, and again I hope you enjoy.

RIP Chris Cornell – Love Audioslave, loved your work and will dedicate this day to listening to your songs. Thoughts are with you and your family today. You will be missed.

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     Lars lead Glenn out of The Oakening and through the bustling brown and grey streets of the City, loaded with rivers of citizens flowing through the sectors, looking for food and things to buy from the open markets. Glenn, attempted to make small talk as they went, Lars was almost unresponsive, he had always been a little distant recently and moodier than usual. Eventually the pair came to the familiar sight of The Firehand Yard, the base which was their home. Occasionally, the members referred to The Firehand Yard as The Yellow. The reason for this odd nick name came from a few sources, one being The Firehand uniform and armour, it was stripped or patched with pale yellow dyes. The second being that their insignia of two, crossed long barrel rifles in front of a simplistically painted, silhouette of the orbed Requorn emblem shielded with plates, had too been tinted with flecks of a yellow shade. Glenn and Lars had engaged in light conversation along the way, to do with the operation at hand, they had talked about Gabriel, his men and what they thought they would find at the archaeological site, but neither Lars nor Glenn knew much about the details, so the discussion was short lived. Lars was a professional mechanic, a former Mek in Lysander’s pod, he specialised in the black power bombs and worked on various types of armour to withstand such blasts, he also had a good understanding of dismantling and building Human traps. Hayden was the weapon specialist, the offence of the squad. Raquel was the navigations expert, she was the one who could read the land, hunt and track down targets. Jake and Glenn were the scouts, the support, the assistance, as green as grass. Lysander was the Captain, who had shown exceptional skills in leadership, and Elone was the Sergeant, a man who seemed to inherit all the skills of both pods. As Glenn’s position required no special skills, Lars and Glenn had little to talk about, having only shared a handful of very brief conversations and had engaged in banter from time to time when in training. “I’m sorry I left The Yellow, I only just slipped out to catch up with Denzel” said Glenn. “You think you’re the only one with a life outside duty? You think you’re the only one who does not miss the company of friends and family?” asked Lars. “No” sulked Glenn. “Right, now imagine if you worked in a market, in a restaurant or on one of your farms in Pura, and an employee hit you with ‘I only just’? You wouldn’t be amused, would you?” asked Lars. “No” repeated Glenn. “Good, then we understand each other” suggested Lars. “Of course we do” said Glenn. “Oh, come on Glenn, don’t bend over backwards so easily, you have a spine, a pretty sturdy one last time I checked. Bite back once in a while, show some balls” Glenn creased “Not literally. It’s sometimes best to be bluntly honest and say ‘fuck the rules,’ it’s what the Sargent looks for in his recruits, it’s probably why there are so few of us” “Is that so?” asked Glenn. “I’m here aren’t I, besides, we’ve all done it, soldiers aren’t mindless drones, always remember that Glenn” advised Lars “Lysander does not wish to see you because you broke perimeter, the operation is still on standby, you can relax” said Lars, tapping Glenn on the back as they neared the home office of The Firehand unit. Lysander’s office was located on the top floor of a fancy wooden house close to the Armoury Warehouse, a house that didn’t look like it belonged in The Yellow and not amongst the military base for it was not geared up for defence or offence in any way, it was just a large wooden, white house in need of a lick of fresh paint. It had three grand floors, a triangular roof, a wide patio and some abandoned stables next door. The grand old manor portrayed a cultured complexion, built in a time when citizens identified themselves as Norkron and not Requorn. This was where Lysander, Elone and Gabriel lived and managed their Pods from, a place renovated for important work, as well as the occasional late night celebration. Lars left Glenn at the foot of the hill that the manor was built upon and made for the bunker, hoping no one else has snuck off in his absence. Glenn flicked up his collar and strolled up the brown path cutting through the faded grass alone. Jogging up the wooden steps, his boots treading over the floor boards of the patio, he knocked on the double doors creating an interesting beat. No answer, so he did it again accept this time he saved the rhyming beat. When no answer came, he put his hand on the door knob and he tried opening it, but couldn’t. Eventually, he used both hands but still couldn’t open it! Placing his hands on his hips, containing his frustration not wanting to look as if he were trying to break in, he tried again, gently. The brass door knob was very loose, it required a strong twist and a shoulder shove to actually get it open! Stepping inside the hinges creaked painfully and loudly as he entered. At the far end of the square hall directly in front of him, were some steps leading up to the second floor and from there the steps split into two paths in opposite directions leading to floor three. The hall was not cluttered with decoration, there were few colourful vase’s balancing upon tall wooden stems in the corners under a thin layer of dust, a few comfortable looking but tattered sofas pressed up next to the walls and candle stems scattered all over the place. There was a lonely table and a handful of chairs nearby that looked as if it had never been used before, these too were collecting dust, it had been a while since this place had seen its famous late night parties, Glenn remembered seeing adults drinking and merry making here when he was a child, where hundreds of people gathered to enjoy the foods, the drinks, the fires that people sat around. On the ground floor, to Glenn’s left was a Western door and to his right was an Eastern door, above these doors perched stone gargoyles. The demonic reptilian creature fixed above the Western passageway was suited up in heavy armour, brandishing two chunky gauntlets that could be removed and utilized if one were so inclined. The other on the Eastern side, held in his palms a hollow spherical, whirlwind of swirling stone, inside this sphere was room to light a candle or place an orb, but currently it was empty. The creature was the same as the other but this one wore draping robes instead of metal armour. What these creatures actually represented, Glenn did not know but they triggered a time in his life when he feared them, thought them looking at him as he moved across the room that no one appeared to be using, everything must have been happening upstairs in the rooms above, in the libraries and offices of the old dusty manor. Glenn ascended the steps, treading on a faded carpet running his fingers up along the cold banister. Lysander was likely on the third floor where he worked with Elone. It wasn’t long before Glenn found the Captains office, after navigating a couple of narrow corridors and ascending another set of steps lit with the sun light coming through tall windows. Knocking on the door, mimicking his favourite beat from earlier Lysander said “Enter” from within, and Glenn twisted the door handle but like with the front door, it wouldn’t open. Several seconds passed by as Glenn wiggled the handle around growing all the more frantic as time passed, having to put a shoulder to it, bursting in with Lysander’s eyes staring up at him from head to toe behind his large busy desk loaded with files, documents and reports. “There is a definite problem with the doors of this place” said Glenn, scratching the back of his head. “That I can see, no one ever enters my office anymore they just kinda fly in as you did so gracefully. You gotta lift the handle up, then push it in and twist” said Lysander. “Twist, lift, push, yeah I got it” said Glenn hesitantly. “No, you lift, push and twist” Lysander repeated. “Lift, push and twist, right” “You have a problem with old Norkron doors, Glenn?” asked Lysander. “No, not at all, guess I am just used to the traditional twist and push routine” “Took me a while to figure it out too, first night here I thought I’d locked myself in, spent a good part of an hour resisting the urge to blasting it open with my SG” said Lysander, breaking into a smile, tucking some papers away within a drawer of his desk. Glenn laughed, remembering the time he saw Lysander’s SG in action, blowing one of the thirty-footer dummies on the firing range in half “Your scatter gun would have decimated the entire door off and part of the wall if you let that thing off in here. For a secondary side-arm capable of shredding armour, I’m curious to know what your primary weapon is” said Glenn, giving a Firehand salute. “Here’s a hint Mr Straff, it’s not a long barrel rifle or a trinity pin pointer” said Lysander. “Is it a twin barrel? Or a modified standard issue model three perhaps?” asked Glenn. “It’s something still in development, I won’t be bringing it with me when our operation is given the go ahead, it still needs field testing first, but hopefully one day you’ll see it” said Lysander. “You wanted to see me Cap?” asked Glenn. “At ease soldier, at ease. Sit down” said Lysander, walking around his desk, offering Glenn a drink, but he refused. The Captain then offered his guest a tin of his rolling weed, flicking it open but again, Glenn refused this luxury. “Ah yes I forgot, you’re the weird one of the group” said Lysander, taking in a final drag on his roll up, sitting back down behind his desk, stubbing the remains out on a silver, metallic ash tray “You’re the one who does not drink, does not smoke, only eats vegetables grown from his own patch and rarely comes out to play at night, is this true?” “Most of it is, yes” said Glenn, wondering where this was going “I eat meat on occasion, better to use it rather than let it go to waste, food is important, smoking and drinking isn’t” said Glenn. “Tell me why?” asked Lysander. “I’ve never felt the need to hasten my inevitable demise. Smoking does absolutely nothing for you and drinking although a little more beneficial, wastes zeal, destroys the body, the mind and wakes you up in the morning with the feelings of regret and the need to issue sincere apologies to his friends and society as a whole” answered Glenn “I can do without those things” “Well said, and what about the other thing?” asked Lysander. “Other thing, sir?” questioned Glenn, not understanding. “You’re twenty-four, nearly twenty-five, right?” “Right” “And you’re not interested in women?” Glenn rolled his eyes and said “No, I love women. Are you torturing me because I said I wouldn’t forget about this meeting, and then forgot about it sir? Because if it is, I apologise” “No, not at all Glenn no at all, I am curious. I and all the others are curious about you and why it is you serve as a Firehand, as you may have noticed, it is a very select group of hand-picked individuals, one that Elone himself is proud of” “I did notice that, sir. I am glad to be here” “Why do you think you were chosen Glenn?” questioned Lysander. “Someone had to be I guess, I’m not sure. Perhaps on the day of final trials I scored the highest from the other Regular candidates I was grouped with. That’s how it usually works” said Glenn. The Captain, tucked some of his long hair behind his ear after pulling out from his desk a document “Yes, that is how it works, but when it comes to you, I’m sorry, but this is simply not the case. On the day of trials Glenn, you under-performed in all sections of the tests. Evaluations conducted by Sargent Elone show” and Lysander began to read from segments of the file “Physical prowess, fail. Not by much you still scored highly but not enough to make the cut. Practical capability, fail. You are not the fastest nor the best marksman not by a long shot, excuse the usage of words but this is what the tests indicate, you scored a mere fifty on the shooting range and a terrible thirty during the raid exam. You needed a ninety in both tests to pass, minimum. Psychological analysis also shows failure but this goes way under the line to the point where it gets a little curious. Emotionally unstable due to eventful childhood trauma, subject rejects all notions of authority, reliability and precision when exposed to large quantities of the common element water” Lysander could not help to take a look at Glenn, from head to toe before he continued to read the results “Glenn Straff, Regular, number twelve fourteen is not to be approved for Firehand duty and should be re-evaluated in order to continue service in the Requorn forces. Advised he be stripped of uniform and be presented other avenues of career. What can I say other than I am confused, you failed all three modules, the most important one poorly, you have an unresolved case of a traumatic experience that effects your emotions and it’s been deemed unwise for you to even hold a sword, what am I to make of this?” Lysander closed the folder and placed it on his desk, pushing it aside. Glenn remained still, not saying a word, hoping Lysander would fill in the silence, but he didn’t, he just stared at the youngster sitting opposite, as curious as a cat eyeing up some loose string. “So, so what am I doing here?” asked Glenn. “Ah, wrong again, the question is not what, but is why” Lysander pointed out. “Then, why am I here?” asked Glenn.

     Glenn held his hand gently over his mouth, seeing the sincerity in Lysander’s eyes, he could only muster one question “This makes no sense Captain, if I am under qualified how was I even approved for service?” asked Glenn. “Elone and I were the ones who looked over your results along with a hundred others that day, and we both agreed to send you back to your Regular squad, to recommence your training if you wished. It was Isaac who approved you, Isaac who gave you the go ahead even with the knowledge of your failures” replied Lysander. “He takes precedent over yourself and Elone?” “He does indeed Glenn, he does indeed” said Lysander, looking upon Glenn with suspicion. “Where do we go from here?” asked Glenn. “Now that depends on you” said Lysander, pointing at Glenn “Elone and I are under orders from our superior who wants you to stay, even if that means endangering your fellow Firehands, myself and the Sergeant, our word has been over-ruled. You however still have a choice, either you stay or you take what was recommended to you at the end of these results” and Lysander dropped a finger onto the closed document “If you choose to leave, you will be discharged from the Pod and sent back to your old squad in the Regular unit, they miss you I hear, you showed real leadership qualities, qualities which have gotten you far. You will still be able to retake the Firehand trials, but there is a very long waiting list, could be a few years before you’re considered again” Lysander could tell by Glenn’s expression, that he didn’t like the situation he was in, who would? “Or you could stay, and keep the one-eyed Isaac happy. Choice is yours” he finished, sitting back, folding his arms. “What would you recommend Captain?” asked Glenn. “I’d leave” said Lysander, without a moment’s hesitation. “And throw away years of my life, just like that” argued Glenn, clicking his fingers. “Consider the alternative, you could get everyone in the Pod and yourself killed” said Lysander, returning the room to silence for a while with a sobering thought. “Well, this is the most uncomfortable situation I’ve ever been in” said Glenn. “Then count yourself as a lucky man, but we both know that that isn’t true, you’ve seen worse” and Lysander received a dark, glooming look from Glenn, his past flashing before his eyes, the desperation, the screaming revisiting him, fuelling him with hatred “I hate to break it to you Glenn, but what happened to you in your earlier days happens every day in Equis ten-fold. As Requorns, we hope to put a stop to it, but it’s hard, there is more evil than we can handle, bad outweighs the good. Do you even know what’s out there? Do you even have the slightest idea of what is actually happening?” Glenn was shocked at the question having not expected such treatment from Lysander, like he was a rookie going into his first Firehand exam or going through the traditional tough man spiel on the first day of joining The Regulars. Glenn was new, but not that new to this business. “Of course, I know what is happening sir. Victory, over The Dovidian Covenant was never officially declared. The Covenant War is over but the catalysts are still at large. I do not know their names but certain individuals were not caught or killed after the battle at Korthak Bridge, where The Honour Guards fell and have remained elusive. So long as these dangerous men are not deemed dead, they are dangerous, influential and can potentially rise against us again” said Glenn, impressing Lysander with his answer. “Well said Glenn, but you only got it half right” said Lysander, standing up, putting both hands on his hips as he strolled around his office. “What am I missing?” asked Glenn and Lysander, sighed, rubbing his forehead. “For twenty-years we’ve been preparing for their return, for twenty years we’ve been gathering as much strength as we can to ensure we can resist and survive what’s coming, but like before, it’s not going to be enough.” “Who’s coming, Captain?” asked Glenn, looking to his right at Lysander, taking his time in refilling his glass with amber liquid. “We have only bits and pieces of information, every day we receive more and the evidence continues to build. I’d appreciate it if you kept this and what I’ am telling you, to yourself, until I deem it fit to brief the others” and Glenn nodded, agreeing to the discretion. Lysander did not return to his seat, instead he leant up next to the wall in his office “To start with there is man who leads a group called The Long Coats, not many are aware of his existence but he was working against the Norkrons during the war. It wasn’t until The Minister of Cuether, Jeffery Vou, clarified a report in collaboration with our former Dark Rogue allies, that we confirmed that this man was the one who funded The Dovidian Covenant’s campaign, threatening Vou and many others like him at the time, with destruction and brutal torture, unless they handed over their wealth. His real name no one knows, but recent whispers call him Lord. Lord is rumoured to wield a spear twelve and a half meters in length with extreme proficiency, not a man you should fuck with at any cost unless loaded up with a trinity pin pointer, and that’s not even the scariest thing about him, he has not only at his disposal a highly disciplined merciless army, but his closest ally is a reptilian human being named Caiman, someone with the strength and resilience of three men, someone with the senses of an adept predator. Caiman was raised by Lord, he is a hunter who rides upon the back of a vaurodile” “A vaurodile? You mean those ten-foot-long crocodiles that live-in swamps! How is that even possible?” asked Glenn, having to interrupt the Captain, unable to create a clear picture in his head. “We don’t know exactly Glenn, but Caiman or someone else with a profound knowledge of cross breeding species, has somehow bred out what few weaknesses they have and created a highly-evolved organism, a beast with all its strengths growing to large proportions with no weaknesses. Lords men use the bullet proof scaled armour that grows off these creatures as protection. This new type of vaurodile, can stand, run, climb and understand human commands. Its once hind legs that were short and stumpy, have been bred to be longer, built for running, able to hold twice its weight, naturally these creatures have no predators. These beasts eat more than just deer, their nature has changed, now they eat people and horses, another cannibalistic army similar to The Blood Marauders lead by Xavien, the Demon Man spotted heading into the far North, into the desert dunes of Sand where sand sharks grow massive. Apparently, Xavien is following some kind of ancient demonic ritual linking in with Driad history, one of blood lust that will awaken something called Saphuries, The Blood Angel that killed death” “Driad’s sir?” questioned Glenn, unfamiliar with this extinct race. “The Driad’s, as history goes, did not stop Saphuries, but they trapped it within a vault of rock somewhere within the North, but the damage had already been done, and the species died out years later, unable to undo what Saphuries had done” Glenn, Lysander and other historians could only speculate what had happened in the aftermath of the battle “These men are not to be underestimated nor their faith be doubted, Xavien is evidence of this demonic power which is growing, people are saying he cannot bleed, that blades cannot harm him, and he’s lost what it means to be human” Lysander sat back down, taking the bottle with him, Glenn placed his hand over his empty glass signifying that he didn’t want any of the drink, but Lysander poured the drink over his hand anyway “Real mature Captain” said Glenn. “You’ll need it because that’s just the start of it, not only are we up against brawn but we are facing an enemy with intellect and patience. Xavien is digging, and this source comes from a reliable pair who participated in the battle at Korthak Bridge. They say Xavien is pulling Chrocian Titans out of their slumber, the largest known land dwellers on the planet, for siege purposes most likely” said Lysander, sitting back down behind his desk. “Who are the pair who gave you this information?” asked Glenn. “Riagel Tyorn and Draygo Dumear, two of our best” said Lysander. “We’ve faced impossible odds before and come out on top, we can do the same here, we aren’t exactly sitting still, we are making advancements as well” said Glenn. “Ever heard of the Harphiar?” asked Lysander, as he buttoned up his loose sleeves, it didn’t look like Glenn knew much about them either and shook his head “Harpies have been sighted on the Western coasts of Klaw, at first there were pockets of them, handfuls of these scrawny, cowardly winged, bat like people who specialise in ranged assaults, but now there are hundreds of them, thousands of them nesting on the cliff faces and they are not dull witted, they are building something, something of vast proportions. More come every day Glenn, they even have established leaders in their ranks, a King and a Queen who have no love of humans. Scouts of theirs have been sighted all over the place, the last one was sighted around the backwater town of Harloth. You want some proof? This arrived two weeks ago, from Noble Tharas Yinn and Minister Yarith, the letter carries both their signatures” and Lysander let go of the letter, letting it fall down in front of Glenn “These Harphiar unlike us, are not wasteful, when they claim a kill they use the corpse. A man’s skin if stretched can provide shelter for a tent did you know? His eyes are a delicacy to eat from what I’ve heard. His bones can be chiselled into scaffolding poles for shelters and fitted as spear and arrow heads. His meat can be used to lure in fish or larger aquatic life forms such as ophidians that love the taste of us and the Harphiar are showing interest in, you know those twenty-foot long serpents that have been known to eat fully grown sharks when desperate? What the Harphiar plan to do with them I have no idea but I am aware that they are gathering schools of these serpents in pens, fuck knows why but it cannot be just a hobby of theirs. Something tells me that they do not plan to be dangling off the cliffs forever. Sooner or later, they are going to start moving inland within the hundreds of thousands and the first thing that ANYONE does before an invasion, is to scout ahead, to evaluate the situation to make sure it’s safe for the rest of them” said Lysander, taking a drink rather casually. Glenn finished reading the short letter, it was written with a fine, educated hand and the words expressed real concern. A fleeting moment of weakness tempted him to reach for his glass and join the Captain in the drinking. “We too are aerial with our Dragora Flyers, I saw one fly over a few days ago, I think it was Zard for the dragoon was armoured, equipped with an air pike” said Glenn. “Aye, but our dragora are lacking in numbers, they are extremely difficult to tame and cannot remain airborne for long periods of time nor can they ascend as high as one of these harpies. We have a hundred or so, sending a hundred dragora to engage with a hundred thousand Harpies would be a slaughter” said Lysander. “Even so, who’s to say Lord and the King of the Harpies are allied? Unless they join forces, we do have the strength to repel them” said Glenn. “Armies with common interests, never fail to find one another, great distances may separate them but word spreads fast in Equis” said Lysander, tapping his fingers on the table. “That’s not all is there?” asked Glenn, noting Lysander’s face, wiped with grim concern for the future. “Jureai is in chaos. The country never recovered after The Covenant War. The last large scale conflict we waged against them was nigh on twenty-years-ago. We killed their Chieftain Kronix at Rivers Finn, and what remained of his Salarthian Clan fled further North into their country. We ended the campaign there” “Why couldn’t we follow?” asked Glenn. “From what I’ve been told, we had not the numbers, the strength or had the equipment to pursue. Now, The Chimera Order is broken, all of its Chieftains dead and the clans are all but decimated, their way of life destroyed thanks to the savagery of the barbaric Salarthian’s who are without a Sovereign Watcher, have ripped their country apart. In terms of ingenuity and weaponry, we do outmatch them, but they never stray far from their borders, they know that they maintain the home field advantage while in Jureai, they know the land and can tolerate the heat whereas we are suited to cooler climates. They command over tens of thousands of warriors and a battalion of ptriva striders, if they decide to go to war, they could win a war should they find proper leadership” said Lysander, who leant forward and said “War is coming.” Once again, the office returned to silence, until Glenn broke it, deciding not to drink after all “This is your way of dissuading me? After all that, you expect me to just put down my rifle and let the Pod go out into the fray without me?” “I could’ve gone on but no Glenn, you misunderstand, what I am simply saying is that whether you like it or not, you WILL get your chance to fight. Picking up a sword or an LBR will be necessary when the storm hits. We will need men like you when the time comes, I’ll even send you a letter personally if you like before you and your brothers are drafted for the front lines where you will not be coming back from, but for now, while you have time, let another take your place, and go home, return to Pura where you’re from, work on the farm under the sun, find a woman and experience a life before Equis turns to shit” advised Lysander, sliding a release document, a quill and an ink pot toward him. Glenn took the pen, and stared at the dotted line. Dipping the pen into the ink pot he placed the tip of the pen onto the paper, staining it with a mark and held it there. “I can’t do it Captain” he said, and put the pen down. Lysander pulled the paper back and slid it into the document. “I’m going to keep these papers together, in case you change your mind” said Lysander, tapping them on the surface of the table. Glenn had made up his mind, there was nothing left to say, so he stood up, flicking up his collar “I just hope we can figure out what possessed Isaac to approve someone who isn’t fit for service, before it’s too late” said Lysander, who’s friendly tone had taken a dive into deep disappointment. Glenn saluted regardless, and left The Firehand Manor.

_____

Copyright © 2017 by D.W.Gill
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including recording, photocopying or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written and signed permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All rights reserved. Published by Taoteque Publishing.
Tha Ancestral Odyssey: Rise of The Black Doves – Volume Four. Written by D.W.Gill.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

E-Mail – taotome@outlook.com

Author Page – https://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B01JMZ2BE6

Twitter – MegasTeque

D.W.Gill

Witch’s Awakening – Excerpt One

On 03/04/2017 I put out a poll online. The question I posed for the public was;

“Thinking about posting a snippet of Episode Two – The Ancestral Odyssey: Rise of The Black Doves – Volume Four on my Blog, for everyone to read. I have selected three scenes which I am proud of and confident in sharing, only I do not know which of the three scenes to reveal. So I’ll ask my Facebook audience to decide for me. If you wish to participate, please cast your vote, if you do not give a shit, a share to others would be super awesome. Thank you.”

The choices you had to choose from were;

(A) Witch’s awakening.

(B) A world in jeopardy.

(C) Genius versus genius.

Well, the votes came in and the snippet you guys and gals want to read is; Choice (A) Witch’s awakening. Deep down, I wanted this one to win the vote, not that I favour it over the other two snippets, I still am extremely proud of ‘A world in jeopardy’ and ‘Genius versus genius,’ but it’s because this one, hasn’t changed much since I wrote it a few years ago, while the other two have had to to accommodate the growth of other ideas and new developing story arks during re-writes. It was one of those strange instances where this Witch scene needed very little revisiting, very little adaptation, say for a few typos here and there it pretty much hit my standard on its first draft, and has withstood the test of time. This tells me that this particular idea is a strong one, it has been well nurtured and is on the right track of contributing an interesting dynamic that Episode Two would be poorer without.

Before we get to the scene, there are a few things you need to know before reading, and those things are that as ideal as I think this scene is, it may still go through subtle changes before publication hopefully this year, so do not be alarmed if what you read here is different to how it comes up in the book. This should be apparent to all but one of the great things with writing such an epic story with so many different characters, a vast world with a wide variety of landscapes, huge twists and turns throughout the plot and incredible action sequences, is that good ideas never stop developing, the story changes like it’s alive sometimes as if the author has very little say as to how characters behave once they’ve been established. This is an experiment I am playing with while writing Rise of The Black Doves, approaching it from a new angle whereas before, with The Utopian Dream, I made myself a guideline. Occasionally I’d derail and stray from this guide, taking a lot of time to progress with the material until I was sure of the undergoing change was a positive one, this was indeed time consuming and required a lot of re-writes to keep the work consistent. With Episode Two, I am almost letting it take control of me, and I am just seeing where it leads. This move can be dangerous but I’ve always subscribed to the theory that ‘If you’re not making yourself nervous (or your audience) then you aren’t doing your job,’ especially with my goal of doing something new, delivering a story that has never been done before, wanting it to be unique, original and hideously entertaining, it would be damn right stupid of me NOT to take risks. Perhaps this new approach won’t be as effective as the guideline strategy, maybe I will look back on Episode Two (Volumes Four, Five and Six) in years to come and think, ‘that was a mistake to tackle it in that way’ but I am willing to take this risk because at the end of the day, I cannot spend as long on Rise of The Black Doves as I did with The Utopian Dream. Another thing you must understand is that this snippet is part of a much larger story, there are things that have come before in previous chapters with the protagonist and with the Witch character herself, she has an extremely cruel backstory, one that is only hinted at through the descriptions in this scene, so of course, there will be things that won’t make sense to you or simply will come across as weird. The idea here is to give you a glimpse into a small piece of a single characters adventure and his encounter with one of my favourite entities.

The image does not belong to me. It was illustrated by Greg Staples and is called Hell’s Caretaker. I found it by accident while browsing the web last year for inspiration and in doing so, not only did I find this image but I found a piece of music that fits perfectly in with the tone I am attempting to create for my Witch character. Greg has done multiple drawings for the card game Magic The Gathering, if you have five minutes I suggest you check out some of his work because it is seriously inspiring stuff. Links to Greg and links to the piece of haunting music can be found after the snippet which I hope you enjoy. Feel free to contact me for suggestions on future posts, follow me on Twitter, please share with me your thoughts and opinions on the content of this article, a kind word here and there or some constructive criticism really makes what I do worth it. If any of you are curious about the other snippets I was going to share, drop me a message and I’ll be happy to let you read them. Thank you.

_____

Deacon frowned aggressively, drawing his long sword. The slide of the unsheathing echoed through the mighty stone caverns, bouncing right back into his listening ears. It had been an arduous task to get where he stood, he felt exceptionally lucky and grateful that he was still breathing and bore no wounds that would heed his advance. Having no time to reflect on the journey, he pressed on, fists tightened around his sword handle. He had faced his fear of heights, he had faced death from a winged tormentor, witnessed his companions being slaughtered one by one and now, a new trial awaited him somewhere in the maze of black and narrow winding tunnels. Blind as he trudged on, he could feel danger closing in all around him and it wasn’t in the shape of men or of monsters, but was something far worse, something that could not be fought, sharp, crude edges of rocks that could lock him inside this labyrinth of stone for eternity. Soon the realisation would occur, soon he would begin to feel authentically again, when he had made his escape and was safe inside a warm familiar room away from harms way with the adrenaline out of his system, would he reflect on the traumatic experiences, but for now, he tried to remain calm, concentrating on finishing the task and kept his focus on all of his senses. Before him was the prize he had been searching for. A strong beam of light broke in from the roof of the mountain and it shone brightly down over a tall, pinnacle of rock. Atop this high spike was one of the twelve Celestial Gifts, The Burning Blossom, encased in a jar of glass, bathing in a cone of a white sun ray. Deacon hesitated to retrieve it, his fears of heights stopped him in his tracks. Deacon had to walk his way toward it, in the gathering dark, over a narrow winding road over a sea of blackness below him that would quite easily swallow him up if he took a single wrong step. He guessed that the fall would not be quick, for he kicked a rock over the edge and never heard it land. At the end of the was a small cabin that had been built by simple hands on a round island of land just before the roots of the pinnacle embathed in light leading up to flower. He would have to pass through this small cabin in order to retrieve the Celestial Gift. Its roof was of a fine but worn, faded red fabric, spread over a small skeletal umbrella like structure. A warm yellow light and a thin mist escaped from under the frail, wooden door and through the cracks in the wall, made from many hundreds of wooden poles sewn together with rope and cloth. The materials used were of the same materials used to string together those other strange trinkets he had seen earlier in Tthenadawn and in The Honeycomb Valley. Other trinkets of similar designs had been hung up all around the curled spines of the cabin. Someone or something was inside, all the evidence pointed to one thing and one thing only, this was one of the homes that belonged to The Mountain Witch, also known as The Remedy Keeper. She was a myth of Equis, coming from a forgotten, savage time of superstition, cruelty and injustice. This was one of the reasons why Deacon moved very slowly and reluctantly over the uneasy pathway, he had no idea what he would encounter inside. As before, he focused on his footing, ignoring the blackness below which was more off putting than the heights he had dealt with before, while climbing The Mountain of Bones. Finally, he set foot on solid ground right outside the entrance of the cabin with the red roof. Deacon kept his eyes wide open and tried to keep his senses as sharp as his sword. As he drew nearer to the door, the heat emanating from the inside touched his face. He knocked first to no response, then raised his sword and pushed the door open with the tip of the blade. The heat crept out and clasped him, gradually taking away the cold on his skin, like it was enticing him inside wanting him to venture further in. Just like the comforts of a welcoming home or maybe like a predator would do to lure its prey, and then turning on its victim when completely trapped and cornered. Deacon felt unequipped, like his sword wasn’t enough for him in this circumstance, but at this moment it had to do. He thought about sheathing his sword and locking an arrow into his hunting bow, but he didn’t feel confident enough with that particular weapon to feel safe. Deacon edged his way in so, so cautiously. A fire had been lit and was crackling away at the opposite side of the room. Deacon could tell something was cooking over it, a smell of something mild, eased its way through the air, a smell of chemicals and toxins boiling into a thick froth. A very thin, pale brown curtain hung down in front of the fire place area, obscuring the light, distorting the dancing shadows. It was then when Deacon froze. He saw her! Standing there behind the transparent veil. A thin, Humanly shape hunched over draped in a filthy red gown. She hung depressingly over the fire, her hand was pressed up on the wall below a mantelpiece for balance with long gangly fingers. This had to be the witch! It had to be her. When Deacon’s loud heart found its calm rhythm again, he lowered his sword and closed the door too. Once he had a fix on to his target he could somewhat relax himself, he remained cautious and ready at any rate. Inside the cabin, were stacks of old resources, it looked more like a witch’s stock room rather than her home, with all sorts of utensils covered in layers of dust and cobwebs, more of those strange trinkets hung about the place, some of which looked like they were in the process of being constructed, others looked threatening and intimidating, pieced together with collections of bones and teeth from wild animals, needles supported the torn fabrics decorated with black inked symbols. Nothing here looked like anything of value, like the witch simply decided to set up camp here right before one of the great relics of the world. A small table rest in one of the corners, nothing was unordinary about it but what caught Deacons eye, was that atop this lonely, dusty table was a deck of neat, colourful cards with their faces down, stacked near a bundled, black, shredded robe draped over the back of a chair, it’s sleeves spilling onto some of the surface of the table, one hanging down off the armrest. Strange that everything else in the cabin was old, coated in layers of dust and yet these cards looked like they had been moved ever so recently, cleaning away a strip of dust from the table. Another chair directly opposite had been pulled out conveniently. Deacon examined the robe briefly and pulled the cards towards him. He picked up the top card not knowing what the diagrams meant and sniggered, they were old fortune telling cards by the looks of it, an item used in those ancient times for trading fortunes for silver and gold pieces, to people who simply wanted answers to the most meaningful questions, a practice that not many still held true too during this day and age. Deacon wasn’t interested in this dead practice, cold reading was not something he took so seriously.

     Dropping the card back on top of the deck, he turned to confront The Remedy Keeper, who had remained hunched sadly over the crackling fire place since he had let himself in. He cleared his throat, mustering up a simple question “Are you, her?” She didn’t move, she just watched the fire burn. Deacon saw passed her what looked like a fold in the wall, a back door that would surely lead to the pinnacle that balanced The Celestial Gift atop. He could have made a mad dash for the prize but for some reason he thought that this would be rude and disrespectful to the lady, though he brandished a sword, an effective weapon for severing limbs and puncturing flesh drawn within her vicinity, he sunk his head when realising the contradiction he made, he meant this witch no harm but had to be cautious all the while, this was her house after all. He wanted to let her know that he respected this fact, tis why he knocked, tis why he attempted communication. Another reason as to why he didn’t want to barge in fighting is that this was a living myth in the flesh, standing not seven feet away from him. To this day, she had been something the people had only read about and disregarded as a fantasy, she had been alive for a very long time and must have faced things far more resilient and aggressive than Deacon. Challenging her, crossing her, to Deacon’s mind, would be a very unwise move. Who knew how many men and women she had dispatched in her time, who knew what trials she had faced and had overcome to become the myth she is today. He stared at her with sword drawn, through the pale brown curtain, her figure being slightly distorted with the flickers of fire light. “I don’t mean you any harm” Deacon said, slightly lowering the sword in a somewhat less intimidating way “I’m here for The Burning Blossom. I do not wish to take it without your permission but, if it not be me the one to take it somewhere safe, eventually others will come, they’ll find this place and would use the relic to cause harm” silence “I do not want to fight. The people of Harloth need a change, help me deliver that change.” His words didn’t gauge a reaction but he knew she could hear him. “If you let me pass and retrieve it, know that I will deliver it into capable hands, hands of The Star Callers and not keep it for my own, or worse yet, let Minister Yarith and men like him obtain such power. If I had it my way, Yarith would be striped of power never to receive any again, and forced to answer for his crimes, but alas, my way is not law, sometimes I wish it were, for better for all.” Something was not right, she did not move a muscle. Deacon pulled away the curtain and stood directly behind the witch and touched her hunched back. He felt no flesh under the gown but something solid and rigid. It was then when he noticed her hand pressed up on the wall, it was a fake, it was made of wood. Deacon pulled the red fabric off its shoulders revealing a posed wooden manikin. A trap! He thought, but where was she? Was she here? He felt his end drew nearer, panic set into his bones causing him to shake, wobbling the blade carelessly like he had never held one before. She must be here, who else could have lit the fire? Set up the manikin and built this place to begin with. While his mind raced and his gaze flew about the room, Deacon spotted a silver cat dish in the corner, along the rim of the dish was a name stenciled onto it reading, Enix. He knelt down and could see a dribble of fresh cream was inside. He dabbed his finger into it and put the stain up close to his nose, the cream was not foul, it was cool and had just been poured. Strange, that when he had entered he did not recall seeing this dish placed here. Then something soft rubbed up next to his leg, startling him, throwing him into a stabbing pose. His foe, nothing but a healthy black cat with large, round yellow eyes, purring intensely. Deacon smiled, relieved even with the sight of this excited animal, flicking up his tail at Deacon and meowing when his Mistress, wafted into the cabin within a violent cold breeze of air from the mountain tunnels, which had gone as fast as it had come, blowing out several candles and ruffling up papers and other ornaments, chilling Deacon’s entire spine right the way down to his centre, to his core where his courage reserves were kept safe. She was indeed here! Her presence could be felt behind him. Gradually standing up from his crouched position, sliding the cat bowl further to the side of the wall where it wouldn’t be knocked over and then backing his way up toward the card table, tensing his grip on his violet sword handle. The rocking chair set at the table creak forward just the once, the wood squeaking under the gain in pressure. The robe stained with the mud found many feet under the rich grassy surface, that had been settled on the rocking chair, found physicality, filling the empty robe with weight again, forming that of a female shape inside, a witch’s shape now inhabited the black cloth coated in thick substance of tar. Pale fingers slid out from the gaps in the sleeves, her long black nails squeaking the surface of the wooden table. Deacon, swiftly turned around to face her, raising and pointing his sword aggressively in a defensive pose. The witch didn’t move, unafraid of his fighting stance. From under the hood of the robe her features remained well hidden, the lower half of her face was wrapped up in a thick, shabby scarf. As for the top, a flock of greying, curling hair had fallen over her face, hiding her reflective, glinting eyes. The black cat sat at Deacons feet, looking up at him, purring wildly happy to see him, this calmed Deacon, allowing him to re-think the situation. The witch looked as if she possessed no serious muscular strength, taking on a young man armed with a long sword would not be logical, she would surely have employed other, more subtle tactics in destroying her foes, which was why Deacon was reluctant to fully trust her non-threatening persona. Nothing happened after her appearance, Deacon was wise enough not to strike her and she found him somewhat of a curious, interesting presence. The witch tapped all her finger nails on the wooden surface of the table eight times, waiting for him to relax and to sit down with her. If the witch wanted him dead, she could have done it by now. He dropped his stance, approached her and stood before the chair opposite hers, her nails tapped the top of the table again. Showing her his sword by holding its steel in front of her hood, the tapping of her fingers ceased, hovering ever so slightly over the table in wait, obviously, she was waiting to see what would happened next. All Deacon could see from his angle, was her tangled hair fallen over her face that in parts had been horribly singed by ravenous flames. The hint of her nose looked scorched and deformed, like her skin had attempted to climb back into itself to escape the carnivores fire once held before it. Holding his sword in front of her black gaze momentarily let her know that he was armed with a formidable blade, that he knew how to use. Sheathing it he sat down in front of her, resting his hands on his hips. The tapping of the fingers, recommenced until her long, bony fingers shrivelled as if they had been submerged under water for centuries, spread themselves over the deck of cards like an octopus would to encase a crab to eat. Deacon did nothing but observe her strange behaviour, catching a glistening shine within her unblinking eye sockets. Did she have cats eyes behind her jungle of loose, burnt curly hair? “What are you doing?” Deacon asked, becoming a little more comfortable with the situation. She didn’t answer him and shuffled the cards skillfully in front of him, with a gamblers elegance. Eventually, she spread them out within one fluid, hand motion, offering a line of cards to choose. Deacon, carefully picked one out but before he had a chance to look at it, she held up one long, straight finger vertically, signifying him not to look at what the card told. She touched his hand that held the card and helped lower it gently onto the table, face down. Her grip being one not of cold not hot, but somewhere in between, like her blood were thick in her veins and like slow waves, they washed a warmth through her. After another brief shuffle, she offered him another selection like before, he chose one and lay it next to the previous card, face down. This process happened two more times and four cards facing down, were now between Deacon and the witch while Enix, roamed around on the floor between the table legs. The witch placed the deck in front of her and then rest both her hands flat on the table wide apart. She was waiting for Deacon to respond but he didn’t know what to do. He shuffled in his chair, glancing to and from the four cards and her hidden face, trying to find an inkling of what she wanted him to do. “Are you reading my fortune? What exactly do you want me to do? I don’t really believe in this stuff” he said. She moved her finger over the four cards wanting him to pick one. Her fingers tapped the hard surface. He pointed to one of the four and she slid it to one side. She gathered the remaining three and looked at them herself, holding them up to the black void in her hood, with her hair draping out of it. It appeared that she was seeing something on the cards, nodding as she read them. From what Deacon could make out she liked what she saw. He remained quiet, confused even but intrigued as to where this was going. The three cards made a separate stack. The Remedy Keeper and Deacon repeated the whole process three more times until a small deck of twelve discarded cards and four main cards had all been selected by Deacon, were laying face down in front of him, and the witch, in the centre of the table. The main deck and the twelve discarded cards had been placed to one side, they were not needed anymore to finish the experiment this witch was performing. She pushed the four cards towards Deacon using both hands, he leant forward taking a brief look at each one, getting ready to flip them over. Enix, the black cat jumped up onto the table, landing near his Mistress. She rose a hand and lowered it onto Enix’s head, stroking him gently, tickling him behind his ear. Enix liked this and sat up straight. Deacon picked up one card and turned it over. The card read Transformation, the diagram depicted a man with his arms outstretched, one side was his usual self and the other was what appeared to be his alter-ego, someone with a heroes qualities, someone with a secret he must not share. The second card once revealed, was called Rebirth, a detailed drawing of a bird breaking out from its cracked shell, though its right wing appeared to be severely damaged. The third card was named Redemption, someone dressed in shining armour, holding an item of extreme value up to someone important. Deacon reached for the fourth and final card but she held up her hand to stop him. Deacon quickly froze with his arm outstretched, his fingers dangling over the unknown card, waiting for her next reaction. Instead of him picking the card up, she instead reached over and examined it herself. Deacon sat back in his chair and waited. Her glistening eyes, like a cats eyes from behind her tangled hair, looked fixated on the card. Her gaze arose and she looked Deacon in the face for a long while. He didn’t know what to do or what was going on, as she didn’t quite know what to make of it. Enix was a well behaved cat and stayed sitting close to the witch. The Remedy Keeper raised one arm and pointed with a long finger toward the steady opening of the folded doorway, leading to The Celestial Gift. Deacon was clear for safe passage it seemed, but what did that last card read?

     Deacon stood up, a little dissatisfied with the results of the fortune telling, he had not a clue what to expect from the experience and honestly felt a little cheated due to the inconclusive end. Perhaps deep down he had been hoping for something else to happen, but at any rate, it looked like he had free passage to collect the relic of old, this he did appreciate. As he made his way towards the back door of the cabin, she lowered her arm slowly, placing it back onto the table. Deacon turned his head one last time, wanting to say so many things to this myth of the world “Did you learn anything from the cards?” His question was not answered “Why do you trust me?” Once again, she remained still and silent, her back to him. Enix was sat near her, staring at Deacon from atop the table. “I’ve seen what you do to trespassers. You don’t want to see the relic fall into the wrong hands, right?” he said, remembering the caged skeletons scattered throughout The Honeycomb Valley. “You could have probably done the same to me, but you didn’t, thank you” he said, and stepped outside on the path toward the pinnacle bathed under a cone of light. The Remedy Keeper placed her hand on Enix’s head and the folded doorway shut itself, in sync with a pulling action of her hand.

_____

Copyright © 2017 by D.W.Gill
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including recording, photocopying or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written and signed permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All rights reserved. Published by Taoteque Publishing.
Tha Ancestral Odyssey: Rise of The Black Doves – Volume Four. Written by D.W.Gill.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

E-Mail – taotome@outlook.com

Twitter – @MegasTeque

Greg Staples Home Page – https://www.facebook.com/TheMagicArtofGregStaples/

Witch Artwork and Eerie Music (scary music and sound effects) – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y6BDbkYNDE

D.W.Gill

Alien – Why it’s so incredible.

Apologies all round (again), it has been a while since I have posted anything. As much as I have wanted to publish another article, I’ve found myself extremely busy recently. My excuses this time are excuses you’ve all heard before and are probably sick of at this point, but I have to cover them so let’s get started.

I’ll start with the work excuse. Farming work is taking its toll, I am a little over half-way to obtaining my 88 days in Australia, soon I will not HAVE to work on farms and can move onto other jobs not to mention acquire my second-year visa. So far, I’ve worked with cherry tomatoes, lemons, chillies, figs, lychee, mangoes and now avocados, the fruit everyone looks forward to picking, because they are numerous, they do not have toxic stems and the climate is a little cooler when they ripen, so you sweat less and can work far more efficiently. If any of you have worked on such farms before, I think you’d agree with me. I’ve worked on several farms where I do a variety of different jobs, ranging from the common fruit picking, to heavy crate lifting, fertilising, weeding, driving trucks, operating fork-lifts and cherry pickers which is very cool by the way. Using machinery is kind of empowering and the hours fly by when you’re having fun, opposed to doing something you do not enjoy, like running a till for eight hours a day or folding t-shirts by the hundreds with a clock nearby forever reminding you of how long you have left. A friend of mine from Scotland who has been working with me pretty much from day one, also drives a cherry picker and has suggested a joust on our last day, which I am totally up for. For those of you who do not know what a cherry picker is, it is a triangular shaped engine with three wheels that supports an extendable crane. It’s from the end of the crane that the driver locks himself into a sort of crow’s-nest and stands, operating the machine with pedals on his feet and buttons from a circuit unit to regulate power and speed. Using this crane the driver can reach the tops of trees and can manoeuvre his or herself into all those awkward places where fruit grows and ground pickers cannot reach. Max speed is about 10 miles per hour and you can reach a height of about 30ft, I think, I may be wrong but it is damn high and can go well beyond the height of your average house. After the farmer left me to my own devices, the first thing I did after asking if there was a model in black, was take myself up to the highest setting, and raised myself above the trees, overlooking the farm land. It was awesome, until I got scared in a gust of wind and lowered myself down back toward the ground.

Moving onto the other excuse, one that isn’t technically a fault, is that I’ve gotten extremely invested in writing the sequel to Episode One: The Utopian Dream. So far, I am up to chapter ten and it is doing what all sequels should do, raising the stakes, improving and expanding upon the strongest aspects of the original. I spend a lot of time on each paragraph, I never move on from a chapter unless I am happy. Last night I could not sleep due to a certain segment of a chapter I could not perfect. I wanted it to hit a certain standard but I couldn’t finish before I had to sleep, so first thing in the morning, I found a quiet spot, re-opened the page and got right back to work. I cannot relax unless the material delivers its message, is understandable and is enjoyable for the reader. There is no way I can just move on unless I feel it’s working down to the core, like a monkey on my shoulder it’s not going to go away until I do something about it. Not every chapter has to be monumental or incredibly epic, some are kind of casual in a way, but each chapter must serve a purpose and be the best it can be, if you’re going to do a casual chapter, do it the right way, if you’re going to do a heated conversation, do it the right way and so on, this also applies to the seriously intense chapters that bring the book to life. It’s a blessing and a curse to be so invested with this world I’ve created, but this is what I do, this is what I am, it cannot be serviceable or satisfactory, it must be as close as it can be to what I see when I shut my eyes.

This project is nothing more than a feeling, it is not something tangible or something physical, it’s not real, it’s just a combination of feelings and images I conjure up, the conjuration is so strong that I am compelled to translate it into words. It’s kind of funny, when I see how much I’ve done over so many years when the source material is coming from somewhere inside my head and is showing no signs of shortage. I know I’m not making much sense and this is part of the problem, but hopefully when this is over, when you see The Ancestral Odyssey in its entirety, when I get around to Episode Five: The Chosen Kindred, you’ll be able to feel it too.

There is a lot going on with Episode Two: Rise of The Black Doves, there are new and diverse characters, an array of creatures and the introduction and expansion to some exciting new places within the world of Equis. There are debates to consider, growing and failing friendships, religious feuds, politics, power struggles, magic dilemmas, technological advancements and discoveries, relationship problems, conflicts and complexities within the main theme which outlines betrayal. Episode One: The Utopian Dreams outline is debatable, there are so many topics and messages raised throughout, it could be whatever the reader wants it to be, but I think, that the word change, resonates well with it or better yet you could associate the word, purpose with Book One. What you will notice when the new instalment is released (June-July 2017) is the difference in writing, the writing has improved. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of my previous work and can confidently re-read portions and not feel the need to go back and edit, at least not yet anyway, but as a Human being we are constantly learning and forever evolving our crafts, so there is a noticeable difference in the styles, less description, more dialogue, detailed explanations and room for the readers own interpretation. One thing I will say is that this book is being written from a different angle. Book One was written all in one go, there were no Volumes, it was just written in one singular flow over a number of years. This time around, I am working on a single Volume at a time, in this case its Volume Four, Five and then Six to be released one after the other. I could never have done this before, because as many of you know, I was new to this game, ideas and creativity does not come to you the way you want it to, it is sporadic, random and can hit you at any given moment making it hard to control. Depending how skilful you are as a writer, effects the outcome of your work, you need to properly manage your ideas and visions whenever they hit, therefore I ALWAYS carry a notebook around with me, to make a note of ideas I can develop and manage in due time. Like dropping a rock into a pond, it does not matter how small the change is, there is a ripple effect and you must adamantly account for the disruption in the water. Drop an idea into a previous chapter, it influences later chapters you cannot avoid it. Consistency is so important, if your audience detects inconsistencies, it tells them and people like myself, that the author is not fully invested in the project they are working on; If the author is not 100% involved, then why should the readers take your work seriously? So, this next Episode does run a higher risk from a writer’s perspective, of not being as creative than the first. Even though it is and will be, I’ll explain the risks to its possible failings: –

– With the first book I had no deadline, no pressure, no timeline to follow, and I had the ability to go back whenever I chose to insert new ideas, to alter story arks, include new characters and change the course of the story, but for the next instalments, I must be CERTAIN that once I publish, there is no going back, and I don’t work well under pressure, nor is there a dam to cease the course of creativity.

– Episode Two also runs an even greater risk of being a setup story. A setup story is when it has no real story of its own, but is just gearing up for what’s to come. I realised this a few months ago, when looking over an early chapter and it hit me like a slap in the face, so I’ve already begun to re-write its path to avoid this flaw.

– There is also the possibility that I am overloading the reader. In, The Utopian Dream we had two protagonists, Lethaniel and Isabelle, in this next instalment we have about seven story lines to follow. They do interlink, some cross paths and merge into one but there is still a lot more to consider this time around. I am nervous when it comes to writing Episode Two, this is good because if you aren’t making yourself nervous you aren’t breaking new ground or taking risks. Fortune favours the bold.

I want each one of my projects to stand on their own and, work as a series at the same time, this is extremely hard to do especially with a book of this size with so many characters and a diverse world. It is true that The Ancestral Odyssey grows into something unbelievable, the level of epic will exceed your expectation, you will not be able to predict what will happen nor be able see where the story will take you or what you’ll encounter. I say this with 100% confidence because it has destroyed even my own expectations and I am the one behind the steering wheel. Already I am learning about how to let the story take control, how to let the creation lead instead of me paving the way for it, this new technique is something I may write a future article on, once I perfect it. There are moments where I find my characters backed into a corner, where tragedy cannot be averted, and the only way I can get myself out of the situation, is to keep writing and hope something comes along to rectify the circumstance. Some of the characters I’ve created, I love to write about and do not want to see them go, but when the story leads them into a position I cannot get them out of, I sit back and say “Shit.” A good storyline does not make a good story, what makes a good story are the characters involved, and I do believe that you will like the characters in Rise of The Black Doves.

Now, with all that aside, you are up to date and are probably wondering when I will talk about the Alien franchise, well that time is now and please be aware that I do not include Predator in this movie franchise, I will be talking about Alien, Aliens, Alien3, Prometheus, Alien: Isolation and the new up and coming movie, Alien: Covenant, which I cannot wait to see this May. If you haven’t seen the new trailer I suggest you check it out asap because it is fantastic. The AvP film franchise is a separate entity all together in my opinion, which is in need of cauterising and forgetting about completely. If those little red zappy things from Men in Black are ever invented, if given the chance I’d of used it on myself after seeing these movies, they are that bad and left a scar that will never heal. I found them extremely hard to watch, it really does take a special mind to take something so incredible, something so scary and iconic and totally fuck it up within two and a half hours. I have no problem with the games, I remember playing and enjoying the 1995, Alien versus Predator for the PC and some of its sequels released on the Xbox and the PlayStation consoles, I have time for them, I think they adapt well to game. It is fun to play as an Alien and utilise darkness and stealth to scare the shit out of your prey, leaping from wall to wall, or to command incredible technology as a Predator, drawing your wrist blades or charging up your shoulder cannon. I used to love watching my elder brother play as the Marine, wandering silent corridors in the dark with nothing but a motion tracker and half a clip of ammunition in a Pulse Rifle, it’s exciting. Anyway, here is why I love Alien and why I think it is the best franchise out there today. There will be spoilers in this article if you haven’t seen the film, you’ve been warned, hope you enjoy.

It has been a while since I thought about how I first got introduced to the 1979 movie Alien, it was indeed a very long time ago now, remember guys, I am 29, nearly 30 years old. Alien, directed by Ridley Scott, was getting on a bit when I was born in the middle of July 1987, which was a year after the release of James Cameron’s sci-fi action horror, Aliens, and it wasn’t until I was about 9 where I watched the trilogy over three weekends. Now before you start judging my parents who I love very much and could possibly be the best parents in the world, please remember how it was when you were a child, when you wanted something, one way or another you were going to get it, weren’t you? I haven’t actually had this talk with my Mum or Dad about this, maybe they had other reasons for letting my elder brother and I watch this film late at night, but regardless, we saw it being advertised to show one weekend and we did not let up, we hounded our parents so much that eventually they caved and let us watch it under supervision. The weekend came and I had no idea what to expect, we didn’t live in the age of spoilers, trailers and the internet then, nor in the age where there was a television in each room of the house like there is today, technology was very limited. All I knew was that this movie had a creature in it and it was set in space, that was all I knew and more than enough to intrigue me. I didn’t know what it looked like, didn’t know any of the actors, had no idea that eggs were in it, I knew absolutely nothing! In a way, I was lucky I experienced this movie the way I did, I mean imagine if you knew that Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker’s father before seeing Empire Strikes Back, or getting a good look at the shark in Jaws before the famous line “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.” I feel like this movie is somewhat ruined if you already know what the Alien creature looks like, not knowing what is out to get you is far scarier than knowing all the details, any real horror fan knows this and great directors take advantage of it. This is why the games Silent Hill, Silent Hill 2 and Amnesia: The Dark Descent were so successful, they toyed with the player’s imagination rather than revealing the threat in its entirety under lights. Looking back now I am so happy I went into this franchise the way I did, because when I saw John Hurts chest explode, and a worm like creature crawl out of the bloody mess slithering over a dinner table, I was speechless, I was immersed, I was aboard the Nostromo along with the terrified crew getting hunted down by something hellish, relentless and soulless, I quote “the perfect organism.” You quickly learn that you don’t fight this thing, you shouldn’t go looking for it especially in the fucking air vents! Come on Dallas, why go in there? You are pretty much screwed under such circumstances, your best option is to run and hide, sealing yourself in somewhere and hope the creature can’t get to you, but it is a Xenomorph we are talking about here so hiding is only temporary, eventually it will find you and it will kill you in a horrific way. It is stronger than the strongest man, it can adapt to any environment, the creature can scale any type of surface, it needs very little sustenance to survive, it has no feelings or emotions of any kind and is built to kill, everything about it has evolved (or has been constructed) to kill other living beings. The best thing you can do is what the crew of the mining ship Nostromo do end up doing, and that is getting the fuck out of there, abandoning ship. The Xenomorph truly lives up to its reputation as a fictitious, nightmare creature on screen created wonderfully well by H.R Giger and adapted expertly by film studios who understand what horror is and how it works. Clearly it has withstood the test of time and has provided us all with at some point, huge amounts of entertainment, whether it be on film, in novel/comic or in game. I for one have an Alien marathon at least twice a year, I still play the games and even listened to an audio book I found on Amazon out of curiosity last year.

The great thing with Alien, is that you barely see the creature, it is never shown under any good lighting or is revealed for a very long time, say for the ending when it is trying to crawl its way back into the ship though the thruster. The reason for this is because your own imagination usually conjurers up something scarier than what is depicted on screen, 9 times out of 10 this would be true, but in a Xenomorphs case, nothing you imagined prior is scarier, so this method of terror works extremely well and is almost impossible to replicate nowadays because I cannot remember the last time I felt this way about a creature horror movie. I have seen hundreds of movies and played a large amount of games that borrow from this franchise to try and re-create the atmosphere and that impending sense of dread. In some cases, they spark my imagination, but never end up comparing to what Ridley Scott did with Alien or even get close to James Cameron’s heart racing action packed horror sci-fi. Incredible movies.

If you watch the movie Alien closely, the creature does appear when it’s not in action, revealing itself for a matter of seconds at a time, but because of its unique structure and with the use of the clever camera work, your eyes see it but never have the time to register it, so there are moments when you can’t be sure what you’ve seen. Of course, we all know what the monster looks like nowadays, I am talking about my experiences before it was all over TV, depicted in games and on the internet. Watching this movie with people who have not seen it before (yes, such people do exist) is a thrill, it reminds me of my first time and feels like I am watching it through the other person’s eyes. Before I left Oxfordshire, I watched it with a friend of mine, I loved seeing if she had the eye to spot it, before the Xeno came alive, as it hangs motionless among dangling chains or nestled in with the clunky monitors and machinery of the Nostromo. This is just one aspects of the Xenomorph besides its demonic facelessness features, that make it so fucking frightening. It is better than us primates in every way, even when we are loaded up with artillery. Sending in the troops explored by director James Cameron and Alien versus Predator 2 for the PC, is a pointless endeavour, because Aliens work as a hive, similar to that of a bee hive as mentioned by Colonial Marine Vasquez who wields the iconic self-aiming Smart Gun in the film. The Xenomorphs are intelligent, capable, fearless problem solvers who are loyal to their Queen and relentless in the hunt against the powerful but over confident, Colonial Marines. Interesting thing with the film Aliens, is that it relates to what happened in The Vietnam War, you had over powered Americans with all this fire power and confidence going up against ill equipped men in the jungle. One question I had when going into Aliens was; “How can we possibly lose?” It wasn’t until later when I began to gain a little bit more of an understanding, where I was able to answer the question. Yes, we have the guns, yes, we have the technology, the heavily trained badass Marines and yet, we get utterly, annihilated within the first encounter. If it wasn’t for the atmosphere processor exploding at the end, then it is a fair bet that the Aliens would have won. The reason the Americans/Colonial Marines were outmatched was for a number of reasons, but for the most part it was because the Vietnamese took away the advantage of the firepower, used their surroundings, employed stealth tactics, fought on a home field advantage, blended into their environments and put the Americans in unwinnable situations, forcing them into traps and ambushes they could not escape from, no wonder it was a slaughter. This is almost exactly the same situation our Marines find themselves in against a species with no technology of any kind and to this day, it is one of the most entertaining films I’ve ever seen.

Not only is the military involved but you get a strong female connection between mothers and their children, creating a curious dynamic to the film. Ellen Ripley, who was the only survivor from the Nostromo, is persuaded by Carter Burke, a company man working for Weyland Yutani, to return to the planet where the Xenomorph was originally discovered, inside a derelict spaceship. These derelicts belong to a race called Engineers as shown in an early prequel movie called, Prometheus, directed again by Ridley Scott, starring Noomi Repace as Dr Elizabeth Shaw and Michael Fassbender as the android David. Ellen Ripley, quickly finds herself trapped on LV-226 (a Bible passage that describes new life and new beginnings) along with the last few marines after their first encounter and a survivor on the installation named Hadleys Hope, a little girl named Rebecca Jordon (Newt), who form a connection with one another through the event. If you’ve seen the extended cut of Aliens, you’ll know that Ellen Ripley had a daughter, Amanda Ripley aged 11, who dies at the age of 66 while Ellen was in cryosleep for 57 years, floating away from the wreckage of the Nostromo. The survival horror game Alien: Isolation, explores Amanda’s story and what she went through to find her long lost mother, and the developers behind Rome: Total War, a strategy game, do a terrific job of building atmosphere and tension as you explore the Sevastapol Station. If you haven’t played Alien: Isolation I suggest you do, it is a first-person survival horror game that has gone through enormous lengths to capture the same atmosphere as delivered by Ridley Scott in 1979. It is well worth a play through, well worth your money and serves fans and newcomers of the franchise well. Check it out, play in the dark with headphones it will have your palms sweating and your heart rate racing…So, Ellen sees Rebecca as a daughter and Rebecca, sees a mother in Ripley. You really gather an understanding of this when they meet the Queen in the egg chamber who is also protecting her own as Ripley is wielding a flamethrower. This element to the film makes it something more than just another sci-fi action horror, the theme resonates steadily throughout giving it a little more depth and more of an emotional weight to the characters who aren’t just disposable grunts that are just there to die for our own entertainment. The Marines especially those in the second half of the film, you actually care about their well-being and you want them to live. You can see a father figure in Dwayne Hicks played incredibly well by Michael Biehn, one of my favourite actors of all time, I loved him in The Terminator, I find him extremely watchable and I found it shameful when they killed him off right at the start of Alien3, set on Fury 161, a desolate planet full of violent, male prisoners.

Every scene in Alien and Aliens is worthy of a discussion, from the conversations between Parker and Brett moaning about bonus’s, the study of the creatures between Bishop and the Marines to Ripley and Newt and of course every battle you see between Human and Xeno. It is all well written, thought provoking, the visuals still hold up even today and the franchise, after suffering major setbacks due to AvP and the shocking release of Aliens: Colonial Marines, is as strong as ever and people still look forward to anything Alien related. But this is not a review, so far all I’ve done is praise it, which is easily done with anything that is deserving of praise, the question I have to answer is; Why I think it’s the best franchise? The is a little harder to answer, but I’ve been thinking long and hard about it for some time now, a few years give or take, and I have come to a conclusion which I hope will satisfy. This is not to say that I do not find other franchises interesting, this is not to say that I do not place any others onto a pedestal, there is so much out there worth exploring and creating if you are such an individual, but Alien, above all its ingenious, deals with a story on a genetic level, this was explored more so in the story of Prometheus, released in 2008, it being a prequel trilogy to the Alien Trilogy. Genetics involves us all, everything is genetic and genetic power is not only one the most awesome forces the world has ever seen, but the most mysterious and unsettling. I am not a scientist but I can differentiate the differences between good science opposed to bad science. Alarm bells always start ringing when bullshit is present, whether I will be able to break down the bullshit depends on the subject matter and I’ll remain sceptical until I research it in my own time after the conversation. I am a critical thinker and argue with logic, reason and evidence, I’ve never claimed to be a scientist so please do not quote me, refer to science books and scientists, so with that said I will keep this next part extremely brief. What I do know about genetics is that they can tell us everything we need to know about a species and an individual, simply by analysing the data we can detect patterns, hereditary traits and more so. This is what the Alien franchise has started to explore on a cellular level, answering the most fundamental questions we’ve asked since day one when we were emerging from the caves; Where have we come from? Prometheus and from what I can tell Alien: Covenant also explores space exploration, terraforming planets and A.I (Artificial Intelligence). All these topics may be being portrayed in a science fiction movie and may well be a little far-fetched in terms of ever becoming real or plausible, but I remember a time, a time where I watched similar sci-fi movies and was told that no such technology would ever exist in our life time, but now some of it does. For example, I hate to bring it up yet again but at the end of The Empire Strikes Back, when Luke is show getting a robotic hand fitted after it got chopped off by Darth Vader, I was always told that that would never happen, or that technology would never work, but it does. Where once upon a time amputees had to be paired with wheel chairs and canes, that time is coming to an end and it happened within my somewhat short life time. Check out what is happening in John Hopkins University, they have created prosthetic limbs powered by thought. So, such ideas previously mentioned are not in my opinion thousands of years away, it is good to be playing with the ideas of space travel and exploration and this is what the Alien franchise does best and on top of that it throws in A.I constructs and genetics coupled with some serious scary shit and amazing action sequences which can leave you entertained and thought provoked.

Those are my reasons. If you think another science fiction movie, book or game does it better, please feel free to write me a message expressing why or perhaps send me a link to an article or a video, this stuff is interesting to me. You can get in touch using the list below, thank you for reading. I know I promised you a top actor list but I have run out of time, I have a lot of work to do today but I have enjoyed talking about one of my favourite franchises. I will be talking about it again and will refer to it in the future I’m sure, but for now I’ve said all I can. The picture I used for this article clearly does not belong to me.

Before signing off I want to say how sad I am about the death of Bill Paxton, he was a talented guy and from what I have been hearing he was an extremely caring and very nice person. Easily One of the most quotable characters in Aliens, watching the movie again will never quite be the same, he had this tendency to say what we were all thinking in the movie, partially becoming our voice which made him relatable. My favourite quote from him is “Yo! Stop your grinning and drop your linen” or “Smoking or non-smoking.” My thoughts are with his family at this time. One of my favourite other Bill Paxton movies is Haven, starring along side Orlando Bloom in a very realistic film about drugs, money, love and life. If you haven’t seen it, I recommend that you do, because it is well worth a watch.

E-Mail – taotome@outlook.com

Twitter – @MegasTeque

My Books – https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01JMZ2BE6

D.W.Gill

The Mountain

These words ‘The End’ do not seem real when you start to write a book, especially when you sit down for the very first time and stare into the white void, onto that blank page where your story will find itself, where you will lose yourself, where your words transform your vision into the book you’ve always wanted to write. When writing a trilogy or a saga for that matter, reaching the end is almost unthinkable, like standing before a mountain you have to climb over or a gorge you need to find your way across, these are fair analogies in my opinion, because I’ve done both. I speak from experience because recently I’ve realised more so than ever, that the mountain I am tackling is HUGE! It is possibly unbeatable when I sit back and think about what I truly want to accomplish. I may never get to the top and I may never make the climb down back towards sanity, back to that place, back to that time to where I wasn’t enthralled with this make-believe world. This heavy realisation came when I reached a milestone I’ve been yearning for, for such a long time. Having technically completed Episode One – The Utopian Dream, I’ am able to continue my arduous climb upwards toward the next ledge flagged with the words, ‘Episode Two – Rise of The Black Doves.’ The climb is hard, strenuous and it will forever test you even after its completion if you can believe it or not. So many who set out on such journeys like my own never make it to the foot of the mountain, let alone begin their steady ascent. However, if you are one those few who reached the target you set for yourself, your accomplishment is worthy of a lonely drink in some bar no one visits, worthy of a lengthy conversation to your friends and family, worthy of something to be proud of and to hold high. My advice to those of you who have yet to set out for the climb is; Do not set yourself a target so high that it will consume and slowly destroy you physically and mentally, try to set your goals into chunks, chunks that you can see and feel yourself making headway with, it will make the journey far easier if the progression is visible. With that being said, this post will be about something raised in my last article titled ‘Why I am Done with Star Wars,’ and will touch upon some other topics that I would like to address. Mainly though, this piece is about the importance of the end of the journey, how to do it and how I plan to end mine if I make it passed the somewhat limitless number of obstacles. I hope you enjoy because I plan to knock out this post before the library closes which gives me, almost two hours.

Let’s get right to it, shall we? In regards to my last article, ‘Why I am Done with Star Wars,’ I am shocked, shocked in a good way that I received absolutely no death threats. I expected more backlash if I am totally honest, because I am aware that 99.99% of all Humans living on this planet along with their pets, get down onto one knee on a weekly basis to worship the Star War franchise, which I feel is undeserving of the praise it gets, especially with the release of the sloppy copy and paste job of Episode Four, which was The Force Awakens. Don’t get me wrong, the film did have some gems in there, I cannot falter the special effects, the X-Wings, The Falcon and of course Kylo-Ren stopping that laser blast mid-air, but overall it just did not impress me. I did have a few lengthy chats with people I know and had a handful of E-mail debates with total strangers on the subject, all in all, it went down rather well. No one could convince me to change my mind set and I feel like the article I wrote still holds weight, but I am happy with the talks that followed which were argued on a mature level. The debate is still open, so if any of you feel like I am in the wrong, please, bring fourth your argument and tell me what I’m missing; Why should I give Star Wars another chance? My E-mail address is linked at the bottom of the page as always, feel free to use it to get in touch and I’ll respond asap.

As for The Ancestral Odyssey and how it is progressing, I mentioned earlier that I have technically finished Episode One – The Utopian Dream; What I mean when I say this is that the story is done, there will be no more content added. I have time before the release of the Paperback Edition to sift through and alter any errors in my grammar for the final fucking time before a physical copy is made, but a part from that, it’s finished. I look forward to the day where I hold the very first physical copy in my hands. Tweaking it here and there for Kindle, making sure it all looks good on as many devices as possible is harmless however arduous and frustrating is allowed, but I must direct all my attention toward Episode Two – Rise of The Black Doves – Volume Four. I’ve stated in earlier posts that the work never ends no matter what! That you could potentially keep adding too and improving a piece of writing till the day of your death, and if you are an extreme perfectionist like myself, you will understand this horrible curse, everything has to be perfect before you sleep at night, this is just the way of it. Unfortunately, we Humans grow old and die, before that time we must make decisions on how to spend our limited time wisely, so at some point one MUST accept the work for what it is, end it and move on. This concept of ending The Ancestral Odyssey concerns me, I’ve been working on this project for a little over a decade now, thirteen years and counting from 2003, it’s an insane amount of time to dedicate yourself to a vision, but never the less, once I put to rest my first book with a final update to the Kindle, improving upon my formatting and presentation skills, the dreaded question hit me. What to do when this is over and how do I end it?

The answer to this question depends on who you are as the creator of your work. It is entirely up to you and how you go about this process. Personally, I want to remain in complete control of my work, I want to be at the helm all the way till its inevitable close, and once it’s closed, it remains closed for reasons I will now get into; I do not want to see it handed over to someone else who transforms it into something ‘else.’ I do not want to one day see a treasured idea of mine be manipulated and bent out of shape to the point where it turns into a run of the mill, commercialised garbage that we are forced to ignore. Creative people need to not only work on and perfect their ideas, but only they know how to execute them properly. I know I am jumping the gun a bit when I talk like this but I am positive, that those of you who are in this business have fantasised about this concept before, about your vision coming to life for all to see worldwide, which is why I brought up Star Wars in my last post, Star Wars is a great example of what happens to ideas that are not defended and stood up for. The original trilogy had something incredible, something remarkable and magical about them, especially Episode Five – The Empire Strikes Back, one of my favourite movies, but over time it has been diluted and lost amongst the rubbish of modern day, main stream media. From what I can see, the reason this happened is because the end and fell into the hands of those who only care about profit. I cannot love Star Wars anymore because it has invaded everything and pulls a sheet onto other artists who deserve more light. I go into further details about this on my last post which I suggest you check out if you are sat there scratching your heads, wondering where this disgust for Star Wars (I should say Disney) comes from. Ending your story, is as important as starting it. How I plan to end mine I am still in the process of figuring out, the ending will definitely be Episode Five – The Chosen Kindred – Volumes Thirteen, Fourteen and Fifteen, there will be no more after this instalment, nothing to follow on from and I will make it so, I will write it in such a way that there will be no room to shoehorn in anything else, it will be a useless endeavour for anyone to even try because what happens in Episode Five will have no comparison, nothing can even hope to follow on from such events for it is apocalyptic. I do plan to write prequels to Episode One, they are sort of like a dark history, a selection of single stories involving certain key characters that do appear very briefly throughout the TAO (The Ancestral Odyssey) series. This dark history has seven stories attached to it and presents itself under the title of Mythorigin. Once Mythorigin is complete, once TAO is complete, that will be that. What I do afterwards as an Ex-Author is a bit of a beautiful mystery, anything can happen from there but at least I would have left my mark on the world, at least I will have something that is me and to be extremely proud of.

I think this is the first time on this Blog, that I have brought up and touched upon details with Episode Five, the book that at this time, the world is not ready for. Seeing as we are here maybe it is time I admit something, I do not know how to approach it! I cannot even contemplate the scale of what is to happen, it is that big. Not only does my final instalment make LOTR: The Return of the King (incredible book/trilogy) look like a playground squabble between two toddlers, but it goes beyond what ANYONE will expect. No one will see it coming. I know I am being extremely vague here but what I am talking about is still being nurtured, still being expanded upon in my head, it is still evolving into something unbelievable. The end to The Ancestral Odyssey, will be the ending of all endings, I will not have it any other way, I will not publish until I know that this is something no body has ever read before.

Okay, gotta cut this short, the library is about to close, I am the last one here and the guy running the show is giving me evil eyes. No time for a proof read or a grammar check, apologies if there are any hilarious mistakes in here. Hope you enjoyed. Next post will be about a topic you guys decide upon. Thanks, and have a great day. PEACE! 

E-Mail – taotome@outlook.com

D.W.GILL

Why I am done with Star Wars

This is a risky move. Part of me does not want to post this article for fear of what is to follow. I know so, I can already feel your anger, it gives you focus, makes you stronger. If you didn’t know already, that was a quote from the Emperor of the original Star Wars trilogy, one of my favourite characters from the saga next to Yoda (of course) and Lando Calrissian. This post was written a while ago, it was originally going to launch my YouTube Channel months ago when I first moved to Australia, I had written a script, I had a selection of images lined up but as most of you are aware by now, travelling this country in a van with very little dollar, happened. Farming work happened and problems with my microphone happened, so it was delayed for those specific reasons. It could be a while before I launch my Channel, but for the time being, please check out my two Promotional Teaser Trailers for my first book, The Utopian Dream, links as always will be provided at the end of this article. As I was saying as to why this is a risky post, is that one of my goals on WordPress is to gain a following, to build an audience, to let people know what I am doing. Another is to give those who are interested in my work another avenue to look into about my stories, a sort of behind the scenes look at what effort goes into bringing you such material. My ultimate goal is to sell you entertainment though, through the power of words and story structure written into a series of books, if my entertainment is coming from a source that is ‘done’ with one of the most popular franchises of all time, chances are the less likely it is you will buy or even think about borrowing my work. I actually feel like this post is going to hurt what little reputation I have; So why publish this post you say? It is because I feel like it is important, I feel like after my last Christmas, it is a subject I’d like to address and hope that others feel the same way because right now, I feel like I am the only one who thinks this way about Star Wars. Before you sit back and disregard what I have to say simply because of the title, before you scoff and tell me to go fuck myself and call me every dirty name under the sun, at least hear what I have to say, read this post and try at least to meet me half way, bring something to the table that does not end in a curse word, and I will listen. If you still feel the same as you did before reading, get back to writing me that hate filled e-mail, and I will hurry up and delete it which takes less than a second. I hope you enjoy ‘Why I am done with Star Wars.

Before I get into why I am done with the future of Star Wars, let me just say that I am still a fan of the original trilogy, my favourite of which is and always will be Episode Five – The Empire Strikes Back, it is actually one of my all time favourite movies, not only is it the most enjoyable in my opinion, but it is one of the best made movies I’ve ever seen. These movies were a huge part of my childhood, I had a collection of toys from characters to ships, my mother bought me a blue lightsaber for my eighteenth birthday which had all the awesome sound effects that went with it, to this day I still catch myself quoting the movies and drawing inspiration from them to help me in my own work. Not only that but some of the lessons the movies give that usually come from Yoda and Obi-Wan, have helped shape me into who I am today. One of my favourite lines and lessons from the movies comes from the scene when Yoda has just lifted Lukes X-Wing out from the swamp and a wonderful exchange happens between them before the scene cuts to the Empire; “I don’t believe it” “That is why you fail.” Honestly I do not feel the need to break this down, it just works on every level and everyone can relate to it. Another one of my favourites is, another exchange between Yoda and Luke “Alright I’ll give it a try” “NO! DO or do not. There is no try.” I promise I will get back to my article after I hit you with another scene, one that literally helped me get through times of great hardship at an earlier age. I was always a late bloomer when growing up, I was the last to go through anything, made fun of because I hated the taste of beer, laughed at because I wasn’t interested in kissing girls, I was always the small kid looked down upon for being weak and frail, because I had long blonde, curly hair, because I’d rather be by myself than with others. My time in school was not pleasant because of this, I was bullied a lot because I did not run with the crowds, because I did not get involved with all the things that were perceived as ‘cool’ so I had a hard time. Now, I am as tall as my bullies, far stronger than they are, better educated and always have been so much faster than they ever could dream to be. For one day a year the school would hold a sports day, a day where we’d all compete to gain points for our houses, this was the day I released my anger, this was the day I’d show up my bullies and wipe the floor with them in EVERY event, and it felt so good, it felt liberating, it felt empowering. The bullying did not stop in primary school, it went on all the way through secondary school, right up to the point I broke away and went to College, but I remember seeing Star Wars while going through such a hard time; My all time favourite Star Wars moment is when Yoda teaches Luke that size does not matter, it links in with the first quote I hit you with, that muscle means nothing next to the ways of the force. It is and always will be a scene I can watch over and over again and not get bored of. For those of you who have not seen the original trilogy, who have not seen these three movies, I implore you to go and watch them. I’ll link the scene below but it may one day be removed from YouTube and does contain spoilers, just giving you a heads up. With all that being said I can still think of more things that I love about it, the rebel ships especially the A-Wings who take out the Super Star Destroyer in Return of the Jedi. I named my van The Falcon, it’s a piece of junk, but it’s a piece of junk that serves as my home while I cross the land of Australia, I even auditioned for the role of Kylo Ren for the new Star Wars movie, I have the same build, the same kind of hair and I can get pretty damn angry at times when things don’t go my way. I went through hell and back for that audition, literally it is an article in itself all because I love Star Wars and wanted to be a part of it. So, why am I done with this franchise? I’ll explain why.

Last Christmas I spent in Australia, away from my family in the UK, away from all my friends and pretty much everything I am used to, this would be the first time I’ve missed this tradition with my immediate family so the experience was a little strange. The day before, in the evening I went to a Christmas carnival, a sort of winter wonderland where you walk through a park kitted out in what I thought would be Christmas decorations, you know, candy canes, Christmas trees, reindeer, Santa, fake snow (because Snow is almost non-existent in Oz) and vibrant colourful presents. What I got was, Storm Troopers, Darth Vader was wandering around, Lightsabers, Bounty Hunters and a Star Wars theme playing in the background. What the hell happened? Star Wars is a great trilogy yes and has the ability to touch us on many emotional levels, but there is a time and a place for movies, Star Wars is EVERYWHERE and it has not just invaded our Christmas holiday, but has a hold on all of them as I am aware, from Valentines Day, Mothers and Fathers Day, to Thanks Giving (American Holiday) and Halloween, this franchise cannot be escaped and I’ve reached a point where I am sick of it. Every house I walk into, every place I visit I’ve started to look out for Star Wars advertisement and more often than not I find them. Now I admit this is not a particularly alarming problem, this could be considered as something quite petty and small, but I’ve gone from being a huge fan, to someone who is totally and utterly sick to death of it, and I feel like I am part of a new minority of people.

Another reason as to why I am done with the future of this franchise, is because it can so easily take priority over other visions and other film makers. Arguably this complaint is not the fault of Star Wars, but with those that own it, the suits of Disney who care more about how much money a film can make, opposed how good the film is in terms of the art form. If you would like some evidence of this, go online and look up what Quentin Tarantino had to say when his movie, The Hateful Eight was due for release last year in 2016. He details it in a way that I can never portray because I cannot imagine what it would feel like to have what happened to him, happen to me. I’d be more than furious, I’d be livid. In short, he had a deal with a theatre to play his movie, and then Star Wars: The Force Awakens would show after the contract had ended. Disney, came to this one cinema and ordered that Star Wars would show through the entire holiday, pushing out The Hateful Eight; Why? Because it’s fucking Star Wars! Slap the logo on a lunchbox and you will make money, stick it on a lighter and you will make sales, paint it on a piece of cardboard and someone, somewhere will probably buy it for a buck or two. Disney also threatened the cinema that if they do not comply with this new contract, if you do not give Quentin Tarantino the boot, then we will NOT let you show the new Star Wars movie. Ironically this reminds me of the scenes between Lando and Darth Vader in Empire Strikes Back, in Cloud City, Darth Vader representing Disney and Lando being the guys at the cinema. Now, not that this makes much difference, but this is not a new time director we are talking about, this is not someone new to the art of film making, this is Quentin Tarantino, the guy behind some of the best movies of all time, one of my favourites being Pulp Fiction. This is one of the best directors of all time, of our generation, someone who in my opinion schools people like J.J.Abrams. That is not to say I do not like J.J, I have enjoyed some of his work and will continue to watch what he releases (besides Star Wars), but if I were to choose who is the better film maker, I’d choose Quentin ANY day and I do not think many can argue with that.

I was on Facebook a while back, back when I first arrived in Australia in October. I saw that there are talks and the possibility of a new Star Wars TV series being released. It was going to take place around The Knights of the Old Republic era. I am not sure when this era fits into the Star Wars timeline, but I am assuming by the title that it takes place in the distant past, way before the prequel trilogy happens which I am not…I am SO not getting into right now. Lets just say that you experienced them, I experienced them, we all had to go through them more than once, enough said. Present this TV series idea to me a few years ago, I probably would have been all for it. The idea of ancient Jedi’s and Sith’s at war with one another in an older galaxy, bring it on I would have said, but now, after the seventh Hollywood movie, after the animated Clone War series, the library of novels, graphic novels and comics, after the warehouses full of toys released everyday, the increasingly large lego world or should I say galaxy, the house hold ornaments that wrap themselves around the Star Wars universe, I think it should stop. I wrote on this forum, in a non-provoking way, I wrote “As much as I love Star Wars, I feel like it should stop. Let’s see out the new trilogy and let it end.”  What followed was a string of abuse, I was called every name under the sun simply because I felt like Star Wars has done enough. The name calling is not a problem, people are free to say what they please, I am not nor would try to silence anyone, Star Wars is already part of our culture, you cannot get away from it, it even has it’s own day of the year, May 4th, isn’t that enough? I know what you’re thinking, you are probably going say something like “Welcome to the internet” I know how the internet works, more so than many others, because I have recently Self-Published my own story for the world to see and to judge. I also have this Blog which links to my work and I also provide my own E-mail and Twitter so people can easily get in touch, so I am no stranger to how the internet works, it just came off as a little strange to me as fans of the franchise reacted so offended, so triggered when someone like me comes along and suggests that it stop and perhaps we should focus our attention on smaller artists and creative people who have something to say.

Everything must end, all good things must come to an end at some point, ending things is important for reasons I will go into in my next article which I am writing on and off at the same time as this one, but Star Wars is not ending, Star Wars is only just beginning whether you like it or not. Recently I learned that Disney have nineteen more Star War movies planned for the future…Let me repeat this statement, let it sink in…Disney has NINETEEN movies in line to further this franchise, and that is not including any TV series or spin offs like Rogue One which I have not seen and do not ever intend to see, because of reasons I have already gone into. One of the most alarming factors, one that I must mention before I end this post and the most important, is that no one seems to be taking note of the materials used to keep this Star War machine running. I know that somewhere on this Earth is a section of beautiful untouched Rainforest, that is just waiting to be torn down and obliterated beyond repair for the purposes of becoming Jar Jar Binks and Ewok toys. This is unsettling and goes to reasons as to why I am so done with this franchise that has spun out of control. Let me be clear, I am aware that everything uses up resources, even things that I want to see continue like the Alien franchise, which I simply find fascinating and cannot wait to see the new Alien: Covenant. I am aware that my own work uses up a percentage of our resources, which is why I am busting a gut to try and sell my books in an environmentally friendly way. Check out earlier articles of mine like ‘I’ll Tell You.’

I am not saying we should end things because they become popular, people should be allowed to be as creative as possible, they should be allowed to like what they like and dislike what they dislike, by no means am I saying we should end things because a minority of people say so, everyone is entitled to an opinion and their own thoughts, feelings and ideas. Should my books ever take off, I’d be outraged if someone said “Yeah it’s becoming too popular, time to call it in.” All I am trying to say is that we need to get a hold on certain things, we need to be able to pull things back when they go too far. Easier said than done but when Christmas turns into a Star Wars convention, alarm bells start to ring in my ears. On a side note, it reminds me of a scene from Memories of a Geisha. If you’ve read the book or seen the film, you may know what I am talking about, but in short, the point I am trying to make is that in the beginning, you have something beautiful, a practise which is extremely hard to perfect and get right, something that takes time to master, but once you master it you have something wonderful to behold. By the end of the film, the tradition has been ransacked, and anyone can parade around calling themselves a Geisha while not understanding the real techniques behind it. It becomes a lost art form, and this is what Star Wars reminds me of, a vision that has been lost over the years especially with the release of the prequels which threw out some of the magic of the original trilogy. At least with the Alien story it has an ending in sight. With Lord of the Rings, it has effectively ended what with the final Hobbit movie coming to a close, yes we will likely see a few more games released here and there, I enjoyed Shadow of Mordor, but for the most part, it is over, its had its day and will be looked back upon with awe. Star Trek too, will eventually burn out, it has had a great run, a long run, something to be celebrated, but Star Wars will as far as I am concerned, will go on forever, pushing talented film makers out the way, sucking up more than its fair share of resources and dominating the screens, our houses and infesting our traditions. That to my mind sucks, Star Wars is destroying the fond memories I have of Star Wars and I no longer want to be part of it. Already I have begun filtering my Facebook, hiding every and all things to do with it, I want their to be a block button so I don’t have to keep doing it.

You’ve probably noticed that during this article, I’ve not gone into details about The Force Awakens and Rogue One, this was not meant to be part of my content but before I end this, perhaps it is necessary to share with you my thoughts the two new instalments. Well, in as few a words as possible because I do need to get some sleep, twelve hour days on a farm do take it out of you, I was not impressed with The Force Awakens. Special effects were fine, sounds were fine, top notch in fact but with a budget of plus two hundred million, a film doesn’t score points for any of the above anymore, it’s to be expected, sorry. I enjoyed the X-Wings, I think the film looked visually stunning, I could go on and on about how cool lightsabers are, how awesome Kylo Ren was when he stopped the laser blast, but these things do not save the movie as a whole, they are just cool little bits you pull out from the whole which was to my mind disappointing. I’m sure you’ve heard all this before, but I have to say it, it felt like a rehash of A New Hope. There was very little to NO explanation as to where the first order came from. Kylo Ren quickly lost his threat level and fell even shorter when defeated almost effortlessly by Ray, which gets me onto my next point. It took Luke Skywalker almost three movies to become a Jedi, his journey was full of hardships and tragedy, he goes from a farmer to a rebel to a Jedi over three Episodes and it all works. Ray took half a movie to get where he is and I know what you will say; “Perhaps things have changed?” “Maybe they do not want to take that long getting to that point” “Episode 8 will explain all of this” but honestly, I just don’t care anymore. As I have said, Star Wars has had its day, in my opinion it has done everything it can do and should be allowed to end as a bright spark, not for something Disney to milk until it’s shrivelled up into a ball that everyone loathes. I could easily go on, I could so easily write a review and point out so much more than what I’ve mentioned here in this short paragraph, but this is not a review, I am not a film critique and you are probably done with this post by now and want to get on. As for Rogue One, I’ve not seen it, but have read reviews and listened to what others have said. Some think it’s great, others think it’s a waste of time, some people think that because it’s got Star Wars attached to it, it did better than it deserved. Had Rogue One been almost the same movie, with a different title within a different universe, it probably would have been overlooked, slated or just another action movie. I am inclined to believe in the latter.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this article. If you have any questions or a topic you’d like me to cover in the future, please do not hesitate to write me an e-mail. Please follow me on Twitter for regular updates and check out my books for sale on The Amazon Store. The logo and font in my title picture does not belong to me, it belongs to Disney.

E-Mail – taotome@outlook.com

Twitter – @MegasTeque

Author Page –  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01JMZ2BE6

YouTube Channel – https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-nc_VEmC27AIz6pP51UVkQ

Yoda’s Best Scene – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMUKGTkiWik  (could be deleted at any time)

Just to clarify, my project does have an ending. Should anything happen along my journey of writing this series that changes my life, I will ALWAYS remain in complete control of where my story is headed, and will never give someone else the right to transform my world into a diluted, washed up version of my vision. Simply put, The Ancestral Odyssey is my gift to you, to enjoy. The Ancestral Odyssey is mine, it will always be mine, it will live with me and will die with me. One thing that Disney/Star Wars has taught me is that you need to protect your dreams and ambitions from people who want to turn it into nothing more than a profit machine. My Odyssey is not about making a profit, money made goes towards building a woodland back home, money made helps me travel the world, money made helps fund my writing journey. Money is important, it makes the world go round, but passion, vision and effective story telling is more so important. My Odyssey has a strong beating heart, a similar heart to what Star Wars had, but sold somewhere along its own journey. I will never lose sight of what I want to create. Thank You.

D.W.Gill