READ,WRITE & LIVE YOUR TRUTH

Category: About Fantasy

What does it take to write fantasy? Why do we enjoy reading fantasy? There are so many questions about fantasy and how it has grown as a popular genre so let’s explore.

  • Fantasy Heroes and Their Magical Powers: PART IV

    E.G. Kardos

    handsome black male , man sorceress casting a fireball spell, fantasy

    Maybe you’re like me, but I’ve always wanted magical powers. I’m just glad that there are great stories out their for folks like us to read or view.

    This is Part IV of my seires about fantasy heroes and their magical powers.

    I listed my eight favorite ways writers introduce the magical powers of their fantasy heroes. Most of these eight if not all, to my way of thinking, are ways we uncover our own superpowers as we navagate our lives. When you think about it we do some pretty extraordinary things when we are pressed and many time, not unlike our favorite fantasy hero.

    The hero and their magical powers

    In Parts I-III I go into more depth about uncovering magical powers, but here’s the list. Please take a look at Ways Our Fantasy Heroes Find Their Magical Powers: Part I. But here’s the quick Look:

    Some are born with it. 

    Characters might find their powers from someplace within them.

    Heroes that we love are sometimes the children of a divine or cosmic power or god. 

    How about the characters who have access to information, and they learn magic? 

    Then come the characters who find someone else with magic, and they cut a deal to access this power for themselves. 

    Magic can be found in our natural world if we only know where to look. 

    What about the wands, swords, and other artifacts that somehow possess the powers that our hero wants or needs? 

    The hero uncovers powers from within, but it has nothing to do with birthright, but all to do about their own will. 

    Yes, fantasy heroes may have magical powers but…

    …how they uncover them and, then, how they use them tells us a EVERYTHING about who they are. This is the moment we either relate to them or we don’t. Their story is usually a very human story much like our own.

    And what do fantasy readers/viewers like the most?

    In Part III I shared some thoughts on the most popular ways readers and viewers like their fantasy heroes to uncover their powers. This is more opinion than scientific as I could not find sources, but it’s interesting.

    • through some cool magical artifacts,
    • inherited abilities from their magical ancestors,
    • or from divine or supernatural forces that grant them magical or superpowers.

    My personal favorite is when the hero has to earn or learn about their powers. What’s your favorite way? Let me know in the commnets below.

    When and How the Hero find their Magic Powers

    Like anything worthwhile, sometimes our hero goes through a process before they can truly use their powers. In the trilogy, The Elias Chronicles, I devoted four chapters on how Elias uncovereed his powers. I shared the first three of those chapters in each post and the fourth appears at the end of this article. ENJOY!

    But first…

    Elias learns from a mentor, is tasked with many steps and finally uncovers and learns about his magical powers. Most importantly, he learns the gravity of his pwers and when to use them AND not.

    Below is chapter 7 from The Rings: Journey Beneath Sirok. This is Book III in The Elias Chronicles. The hero, Elias, uncovers his powers in chapters 5, 6, 7 and 8 with the help of his mentor, Tas (perhaps pictured above).

    The chapters are:

    8

    Dancing Souls

    The sun was still low and new in the sky when Elias woke up. He could see Tas as he stood high upon a rock in the middle of the lake. Elias swam to where Tas was standing.

    “Tas, tell me who you are—and don’t tell me ‘in due time.’ Oh, sorry….”

    Tas let out a loud and long laugh that filled the air around them. “You are quite persistent—that is good. If you must know…my father was black, and my mother was white. My grandmother was Japanese, and her mother was Dutch. My grandfather was from Brazil, and my grandmother was Jewish. My father was Catholic, and my mother was Buddhist. My great-grandmother was Lutheran, and her father was Muslim. My other grandfather was Hindu. I have lived on every continent. Ah, I think that covers everything…oh, I tried to be a vegetarian, but it didn’t last. Does that do it for you?”

    Surprised by the answer, Elias said, “Ah, yep, that does it.”

    “Good. Elias, let’s talk more about you. You have asked me about this place many times. I told you that it doesn’t exist.”

    “Yes, that’s right. Funny thing is, I believe you.”

    “You asked me how I communicate with the Turul, and I said?”

    “In due time,” Elias said.

    “That is correct,” Tas laughed. “You asked how I flung that stone with great speed, and I said?”

    “In due time, Elias.”       

    “Yes, and you asked me how I got the fish to jump into my hands, and I said?”

    “In due time.”

    “And the Donum…”

    “IN DUE TIME,” Elias said.

    “Well, Elias, your time has come.”

    “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but it’s about time,” Elias said with laughter.

    Tas laughed, too, as he began to climb higher on the rocks until he reached a landing. He motioned for Elias to join him. Elias climbed up, and they sat cross-legged and faced each other.

    “I wish to share with you a power of the Endless Within called Cigam.”

    “Cigam? I have never heard of that before,” Elias said.

    “Of course not, Elias, as it comes from here, and as we both know, this place does not exist. I am not sure how strong this power is outside of this place, but it may help you on the next leg of your journey.”

    “So it might not work outside of here—this place that doesn’t exist?” Elias asked.

    “Yes, that is what I said, but I think you are in luck as the place you are going is not of your world. It is not of this time. It may be the past, or it might be the future, but it isn’t the present,” Tas said.

    “What? Okay, okay. I should expect all this by now. What do I have to do?”

    “First, you must listen to me. Are you with me?” Tas asked.

    “Yes, go ahead.”

     “I told you of the Earth and how she manages to keep things in balance.”

    “Yeah…I understand,” Elias said.

    “That is, until she is faced with The Two Powers – good and evil, which are manifested in man and only man.”

    “Right.”            

    “This good and evil comes out in man because of his playing around with The Truths. Because he wants more than his fair share. We look to those with the Donum—the gift—to help.”

    “Supposedly, I have this, this—Donum?”

    “Yes, you are correct. You have the Donum. You must use it,” Tas said.

    “Alright…so what does this have to do with Cigam?”

    “EVERYTHING. Last night you saw the brilliant and colorful lights radiating from all the stone pillars just like the one we are sitting atop.”

    “They were amazing. Like nothing I’ve seen before…like my palette full of colors but a million times brighter.”

    “Elias, these lights are a rainbow of light, an aurora known as the Dancing Souls. They are here with us as we speak. We may not always see them, but they are ALWAYS present. We see them, especially in the darkest hours. They are always here.”

    “We’re sitting on Dancing Souls?” Elias asked.

    With a roar of laughter, Tas answered, “As a matter of fact, we are Elias…as a matter of fact, we are.” 

    Elias straightened up and leaned forward. His eyes widened as he asked, “How do I use this power—this Cigam?”

    “You must believe…you must focus…you must have faith…you must have hope…and you must have love. Without these, you have nothing. You have no power to do anything. This is why a person with compassion will provide the balance. Remember, Cigam only works for good. The Dancing Souls are forever looking—always searching for balance.”

    “So, how do I use it? I don’t get it.”         

    “It is simple, Elias. When you need Cigam, think about all we talked about. Focus it in your mind. Acknowledge it in your heart, feel it—and then act on it. Stand up.”

    They stood together, and Tas handed Elias a stone. “See our camp over there?”

    Elias squinted his eyes, “Barely, but yes, I see it.”

    “Send that stone that direction and have it land on our campfire.”

    “What?”

    “You heard me,” Tas said with a raised, stern voice. 

    Elias looked at Tas and then at the target. He raised his hand with an open palm. Tas gently placed the stone in his hand. Elias cocked his arm and threw the stone, but it went no further than thirty yards and landed in the lake below with a plop.

    Tas said nothing but scratched his head and then looked at Elias.

    “Okay. There is a little more that goes into this, and let me think what that could be.” Tas raised a few fingers to his chin and thought for a moment. He scratched his forehead and shifted his body weight to his left hip. He filled his cheeks with air as if he was about to play a trumpet.

    “Ah, yes. Of course—you must do this as a positive force and not a negative force.”

    Puzzled, Elias said, “Tas, I’m throwing a stone. I’m not thinking of whether it is positive or negative.”

    “That’s it…but you must—you must! You are not throwing anything, my boy. You are sending, you are transporting, you are moving something…and you are doing so to create the change that is needed. You must visualize what it is you wish to accomplish and then do it. It may appear you are ‘throwing’ a stone, but, indeed, you are not. You are the stone,” Tas said with a fluster.

    “I still don’t follow. There’s got to be more than that.” 

    Tas rubbed the palms of his hands together as he thought. He brought them to his chin. He looked to the side and then up to the sky. “Trust, believe, love, and then focus all your good into what you are doing—no anger, no frustration, no anxiety—just the good. Bring the light of the Dancing Souls into yours. Look for the Dancing Souls in all you do. If you remember this, you will always see the light. You will see what it is you need to see. Choose another stone.” 

    Elias picked up a stone and examined it. He looked at Tas. Tas smiled, nodded his head, and whispered, “Trust, believe, and love.” Elias focused on the site, cocked his arm, and followed through. The stone zipped off his fingers before he knew what was happening. It soared with an energy that Elias had never before felt. The stone whizzed five feet beyond his target and buried itself deep into the sand. Elias and Tas turned to each other. Tas grabbed Elias, picked him up, and spun him around. They both fell to the ground as they laughed and celebrated his accomplishment.

    Out of breath and with a rich and deep tone in his voice that Elias had not yet heard, Tas said, “Very good, Elias, very good. You must work on your focus. That is something we must all work on.”

    Elias sat up and thought for a moment and then asked, “But Tas, could a man of compassion use this power to endanger others?”

    Tas remained on the ground as he looked to the sky and answered, “Ah. That is a very good question. My answer is yes—you use this power only as a last resort. The power is only effective against what is evil. If you use this to be boastful, you will not get the results you want. Cigam will help you in the Under World. What happens there is later imitated in your world. Your work is that important.” 

    His mind was flooded with many thoughts, and Elias only halfway listened to his answer.

    ________________

    That evening was a mirror image of the night before. All was calm, and the moonlight was bright and clear. Elias sat on the ground alone on top of a stone pillar. He wrapped his arms around his knees and folded up to his chest. The colors of the Dancing Souls emerged in grand style as the light began to swallow the darkness. The colorful glow shone on his skin and illuminated all around him. He looked at the many colors that blended and moved with the grace of a ballerina. He felt a jumble of emotions. He felt confident from all he had learned. He knew he was now part of the Dancing Souls. He was, however, scared at all that was before him. Who will I meet along the way? What am I supposed to do? He thought. He had many questions but no answers. He was confounded as to why he was the one with the Donum. All was quiet. Like magic, Elias turned his head and saw Tas sitting close by.

    “I didn’t hear you come,” Elias said.

    “Oh, I’ve been here for some time.”

    The two sat in silence as they gazed into the brilliant rainbow of lights. After a few moments, Tas stood, walked to where Elias sat, and joined him. Tas sat directly in front of Elias. 

    “Look at me. Trust me, Elias. Hold the amulet between your thumb and index finger and look at me.” Tas leaned forward and looked directly into his eyes. Tas’ face tightened up, and his pupils became very large. Elias could only see the reflection of the Dancing Souls in his eyes. Elias opened wide. “Elias, you must leave at dawn. You will start your journey atop of Sirok.”

    “Sirok?”

    “Yes, Sirok, but this time you will not leave Sirok. You will go into its belly.”

    “What? Its belly. What do you mean?” Elias asked.

    “To go deep inside, you will find another land. This land is of another realm. It needs you.”

    “Why, what’s there?”

    “Do not interrupt me…I’m on a roll. I do not know how long I will be able to interpret all that is entering my consciousness. Be still and hold your tongue. Okay, where was I? You will go into the ruins, and you will find a passageway that will lead you to an opening.”

    “An opening…ah, sorry, I’ll stay quiet.”

    “Yes, a tiny hole, a crack, a crevice of some kind. It is an opening, nonetheless. I see it as small as the eye of a needle. You will pass through the eye.”

    “What? A hole the size of a needle?” 

    “Elias, you must think in new ways. Remember what you have experienced here. You will meet many beings along the way. At some time, you will meet a beautiful woman. You will also come face to face with evils. Some you will recognize, some you will not. You will see the Kingdom of Gold high on a rocky hill. Rain? This is interesting…you will make it rain. Ah, yes. This is very interesting; I cannot tell if you will do this metaphorically or literally to make it rain. Hmmm… sorry, but I see no more. I have nothing else to tell you.”

    “What? Just like that? Tas, you are not giving me much to go on…how will rain solve anything?

    “Perhaps it is what the rain brings,” Tas explained.

    “Like little flowers?” Elias said in frustration.

    Tas burst into laughter and said, “Questions are good, but please…Elias, you will figure it out.”

    “This is like a jigsaw puzzle, and, Tas, I hate puzzles. Tell me more.”

    “I cannot. I can tell you that you are entering another time and one that no longer exists in the physical world. Cigam will work.”

    “I don’t even know what to do with Cigam. Is this other world like this world?”

    “No, Elias. It is not like this one—but it could be.”

    They both sat in silence. Elias peered off to the horizon and squirmed. He stood and walked to the edge of the pillar and then sat facing the only darkened area in the distance. “I don’t know about all this. I could stay here with you.”

    “I need no more company. The Dancing Souls are plenty. You have the Donum. You have the gift. I will tell you that Zoltan is in danger. You must deliver him and all good people from their peril.”

    “How will I defend myself? I wouldn’t be here today without a sword I used to protect myself. I wish I had that sword.”          

    “Understand this, Elias. You have Cigam—the Dancing Souls—the Endless Within! How many times must I tell you? You need not worry about what you don’t have but rejoice in what you do have. Don’t forget you have the wisdom and power of the Dancing Souls. You became aware of it here, but you have always had it—the Donum. I became aware of that the moment I saw you.”

    Elias turned to Tas and said, “What do you mean?”

    “The amulet. The amulet around your neck. You may not see it, but I do. It has all the glow and radiance that is all around us. I’m sure Nattymama had something to do with that,” Tas let out a thunderous laugh.

    “I bet it was that rainbow she was conjuring up.”

    “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Tas said with a tone just above a whisper. “I must visit her again someday….”

    As he shook his head and slumped back, Elias said, “Tas, I don’t know about all this. This amulet seems to get me into a lot of trouble. Maybe I should leave it with you.”    

    “Elias, when will you learn—I thought you might say something like that. It is yours. Some things you just can’t and should not give away. It is you. That’s all I can say.”

    “I know, I know. I was starting to really like this place.”

    Tas boomed with laughter and said, “Why yes, Elias, this is a very wonderful place to get used to. Of course, one day you will be back as all who are good return, but you are special—you are called to something else.”

    Embarrassed, Elias nodded with a faint smile and said, “So, I leave at dawn?”

    “Not so fast. I must give you something else.”

    Tas reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring covered with flecks of colorful gems. In the very center was the image of the Turul.

    “Take this ring and give it to Zoltan. It is his ring that possesses power beyond reason. Oh, and yes…” Tas pulled out the remnants of the scraggly green beard that Elias had around his ankle when he first arrived.

    “Why do I need this?”

    “You must travel past the Vodnasters when you leave. If you tie this around your wrists, they will leave you alone. You were so smart to save a good size clump,” Tas said with a grin. “I must leave you now.”

    Tas stood and began to walk away. He paused, turned to Elias, and said, “It is so simple—compassion balances the world. Use the Endless Within. But, Elias, you will know when it is time to leave that world, and if you do not, you may never return to your world.”

    If you enjoyed this post, you may like these: Hero’s Journey Monomyth;Why Fantasy is a Good Read; YA Fantasy Trilogy: Saving the World One Book at a Time; Fantasy Fiction and Real Life are the Same; Storytelling Within a Story, What Mentors Do Best.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Okay, okay…for this article, I just had to do it.

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  • How Fantasy Heroes Find Their Magical Powers: PART III

    E.G. Kardos

    What’s your favorite way for fantasy heroes to find their magical powers? 

    In my previous posts (Parts I and II), I shared eight ways fantasy heroes find their magical or superhero powers. Thinking more about it, I wonderded of those eight, what do readers/viewers of fantasy feel are the most popular ways heroes find their powers?

    how fantasy heroes obtain their magic or super powers

    Since I don’t really know how anyone could honestly be sure about this answer, I decided to check it out on the internet…so ’ve read on that the most popular way that readers/viewers like their heroes to find their powers in the following way:

    • through some cool magical artifacts,
    • inherited abilities from their magical ancestors,
    • or from divine or supernatural forces that grant them magical or superpowers.

    …and the internet MUST be right…

    Well, that’s for another post. But if these three ways for heroes to obtain their powers are the most popular, then readers/viewers tend to prefer characters who are given their powers.

    I can see that, we all like gifts.

    In other words, it’s desirable for many readers/viewers of fantasy for the hero to be in the right place at the right time and gains incredible powers without much effort. It’s like winning the lottery. Great gig if you can get it.

    But what about this?

    I enjoy these heroes and their journeys as well, but I truly love stories where the hero has to act or work hard to earn their powers. Because if they have the drive to work toward something, their journey will be more compelling, and they’ll become a truly heroic figure in a different, more inspiring way.

    Maybe it’s just me.

    Consider it: if you’re lucky enough to win the lottery, sure, you might do something cool with the money. But say if you don’t win the lottery like 99.99% of everyone, and if you work hard at something you love and good fortune comes your way, you’ll more likely act differently—more thoughtfully, perhaps. Well, maybe.

    Heroes like this are underdogs and you gotta love the underdog.

    In my way of thinking, this describes most of us, or the 99.99% that don’t win the lottery. It makes me feel a connection to hero as maybe–just maybe–that could be me.

    How do you like the hero to find their magical powers?

    Think about your favorite heroes. How did they gind their magical powers? Let me know in the comments section below.

    In my last two posts, The Ways Our Fantasy Heroes Find Their Powers: Part I and Our Fantasy Heroes Find Their Powers: PART II, I listed the eight ways that I felt were popular ways for the fantasy hero to obtain their magical powers. Take a look.

    As promised, here is the third chapter of The Rings: Journey Beneath Sirok…

    …where Elias is one step closer to discovering his magical powers. This is the second of three books in the fantasy series, THE ELIAS CHRONICLES.

    ENJOY, and stay tuned—the fourth chapter is coming soon.

    Below is chapter 6 from The Rings: Journey Beneath Sirok. This is Book III in The Elias Chronicles. The hero, Elias, uncovers his powers in chapters 5, 6, 7 and 8 with the help of his mentor, Tas.

    Each of these chapters Elias learns more about his powers as his mentor, guides him to uncovering his powers and magic within and how they are part of a greater source. Like I said last time, pretty cool, huh?

    The chapters are:

    … the next chapter is coming soon.

    7

    The Truths

    The next day, Elias awoke to Tas standing knee-deep in the lake. He clapped his hands a number of times in a particular rhythm, and a fish jumped up where he could catch it. He did this two more times and walked to shore, where he started a fire. 

    “Let us start the day with brain food, Elias.”

    “How—how did you do that?”

     “Do what?

    “Catch fish like that.”

    “I merely opened my hands, and when the fish was near, I caught it. That was the easy part.”

    “No, no, no. I mean, how did you get the fish to willingly leap up out of the water?”

    “In due time, Elias. Let’s eat.”

    Tas began to clean the fish with a knife and then skewer them. Finally, he laid them on a red-hot stone surrounded by blazing embers. Elias looked on with interest.

    “Elias, the fish will be sacrificed for our nourishment. Appreciation and gratitude for all living creatures is important, and we must never forget to respect all life.”

    Tas flipped the fish and sat cross-legged while Elias sat on his knees. They both faced the lake. A cool breeze filtered in and out of the trees and sent small waves onto the shore. A few minutes later, they ate.

    Tas looked intently at the fire, and with the rhythm of a poem, he spoke.

    “Wood feeds fire,

    Fire created Earth,

    Earth bears metal,

    Metal enriches water,

    Water nourishes wood,

    and then again, wood feeds fire and so on.

    Tas stood and walked to the lake and stood in the water. Elias sat and thought about the words he had just heard. He then joined Tas.

     “I get it. Everything is connected. Everything needs everything else,” Elias said.

     “This rock is the home of every inhabitant from the ant to the antelope. The snail to the sperm whale. Every tree is sacred, and every life enriches another from what we think is the smallest to what we believe is the biggest.” Tas cupped his hands into the water and splashed his face. He took a drink of the fresh, clean water. Tas continued and said, “Come with open hands and drink your fill.”

    Elias jogged to where Tas stood, cupped his hands, and drank. He felt the coolness of the liquid as it streamed down his chin and dripped down his neck. He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth.

    Tas looked at Elias and said, “Ah, water—it becomes you, my boy.”

    Elias smiled at his friendly remark. Tas nodded his head and began to walk to the edge of the water. He waved his hand, and Elias followed. “Let us sit, Elias.” The two sat on the wet beach and stared out over the water and the stone pillars that stood tall. A breeze rushed in and gave Elias a chill.

    “There is a balance to everything, but when the balance is disturbed, we have chaos and destruction. Sometimes this chaos and destruction are easily seen, and other times it is hidden in the hearts and souls of man.”

     Without warning, Tas sprung up and swiftly walked into the lake, dove in, and swam to the stone pillar that was closest. He pulled himself up and sat gazing off to the horizon. Elias followed.

    “I call this balance The Truths. Alone, the world balances itself. With man, the world falls victim to human desire. What a man wants, a man tries to get.” 

    “Our history books at school are filled with battles and one country overthrowing this country or that—of wars. I think you’re right. Man sees something he wants and goes for it right or wrong,” Elias said as he picked up a stone and tossed it over the cliff.

    “That is troubling if that, indeed, is what man is,” Tas said as he shook his head.

    “I agree—it doesn’t sound good,” Elias said.

    “Only a man with compassion knows the importance of The Truths, and his compassion shows the way.”

    “Compassion? What do you mean?”

    “All humans SHOULD have concern for the suffering of others.”

     “I don’t know…I think you need more than that,” said Elias.

    “Yes, but compassion is where it starts. You can also call it your conscience. Without it, rules mean nothing. This is where the imbalance begins.”

     “Hmmm. I think I see what you mean,” Elias looked at Tas, and Tas looked back at him. “I don’t think this way of thinking crosses their minds,” said Elias.

    “Even when it crosses a mind or two, man sometimes doesn’t try to understand a person’s struggles and disappointments. Man, many times, does not care. Oh, it is too often that man loses sight of what’s in him—how he can make a difference. This is when a man does nothing,” Tas turned and looked into Elias’ eyes.

    “I would never do that.” 

    “I believe you, Elias, but sometimes we are tempted as we are not perfect. Sometimes it is easy to do nothing, to give up. When more and more souls are tempted, give up, or give in, The Truths go out of whack. The two great powers must be in balance—easy as that.”

     “We are all part of the bigger world,” said Elias. 

     “I would say—the bigger cosmos and the larger dream…but you know, it is rather ironic that even as weak as man is, he still has the ability and responsibility to balance the two great powers. This is just how it is.”

    Tas looked at Elias until Elias began to squirm.

    “Why are you looking at me that way?” Elias asked.

    “Elias, you have the Donum.”

    “The what?”

    “The Donum is the gift. It’s been given to you—this gift.”

    “What gift? And what does this have to do with me and my journey? How does this save Zoltan?”

    Tas stood and brushed off his pant legs. He walked a little way from where they sat. He placed his hand over his eyes to shield the sun’s rays.

    “Well, aren’t you going to tell me about this gift I supposedly have?” 

     “In due time, my boy. In due time.” Tas turned to him. “It has a great deal to do with you, but let me first tell you more about The Truths.”

    Elias grew more and more impatient but kept his feelings to himself as Tas continued.      

    “First, Earth. It is stubborn and patient. It has been here for millions of years, taking considerable abuse, but it is steady. It brings life and brings metals, minerals, and beauty. The Earth has volatile powers. It has explosive energy, but in the end, it balances itself. The Earth is special. We only have one, and from it comes all life. This is why we call her Mother.”

    “Ah, Mother Earth,” Elias said with a smile.

    “Trees bring us wood. Wood may be very sturdy but also may be very flexible. Trees give us what we need to breathe. Trees and the wood from the trees give us shelter and fuel. I could go on and on. Trees are generous.”

    “So it is sacred.”

     “Yes, Elias, trees are sacred. As far as metal, it is also sacred as it enriches our lives—in our water and food, as well as provides tools for our homes. It is also precious and highly prized. It turns into tools or weapons. The Truths must always stay in balance.” 

    “I bet my paintings have something to do with this imbalance, I’m sure.”

     “You have finally brought up your paintings. I was waiting for that as I have heard of your paintings. Yes, I think you are right—your paintings have much to do with this imbalance.”

    “Did you hear this from the Turul too?” Elias asked.

     “Of course, Elias, who else?” Tas roared with laughter. Elias couldn’t help but laugh too.

     “What about water?” Elias asked

     “Ah, water. It is so very precious. We must all have it. It must be clean. It must be abundant. It nourishes trees. It nourishes everything, including our souls. As it is vital to life, it may be very destructive, and its force should always be respected.”

     “Tas, I know about fire. I learned this from…”

      “…Gaspar! My dear friend. How is he?”

      “You know Gaspar?”

     “Absolutely. EVERYONE knows Gaspar. He is the goldsmith of goldsmiths. He is peculiar but a very good man. What did you learn from him?” Tas asked. 

    “How hot and how long. When something is precious, he said, one must know how close and how long to expose it to what could destroy it. He said you don’t think it—you feel it. Fire changes things—for good and for bad.”

    “I couldn’t have said it as eloquently as that. Elias. I am telling you something so simple—no secret about it, but to balance The Truths, we must be kind and compassionate souls. Just as catching the fish is the easy part, what gets the fish in the air is different altogether. Tomorrow. More tomorrow.”

    Look for the next chapter when Elias learns about “The Dancing Souls”.

    If you enjoyed this post, you may like these: Hero’s Journey Monomyth;Why Fantasy is a Good Read; YA Fantasy Trilogy: Saving the World One Book at a Time; Fantasy Fiction and Real Life are the Same; Storytelling Within a Story, What Mentors Do Best.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Okay, okay…for this article, I just had to do it.

    Latest Posts

    Most Viewed Posts

    All Posts

    Please notify me when you publish a new blog post.

  • Ways Fantasy Heroes Find Their Magical Powers: PART II

    E.G. Kardos

    Ways fantasy Heroes Find Their Powers

    Have you ever wondered how fantasy heroes find their powers? In my last post, The Ways Our Fantasy Heroes Find Their Powers, I shared some ways how the hero finds their powers. Not all fantasy heroes are cut from the same cloth, AND that means their powers come to them in very unique ways.

    Eight Ways a Fantasy Hero Find their Powers

    In my last post, I shared my favorite ways a fantasy hero uncovers their powers. Here they are again:

    Some are born with it. That’s the easiest way. Although I love these characters, I feel like I did when I was hanging around with the “cool” kids growing up. Why them? I would ask. I think there are many other ways our hero can become “the chosen one”…

    Characters might find their powers from someplace within them. Some event or situation in their lives triggers an emotion, and they begin to use their powers without even knowing it. They realize they have it—they have powers. This is a favorite of mine as I always think that maybe some event in my life with spark my unique power.

    Heroes that we love are sometimes the children of a divine or cosmic power or god. These heroes are great, and I love them as well. Unfortunately for me, I won’t be getting any suprpowers this way.

    How about the characters who have access to information, and they learn magic? This is an awesome way, as maybe I can find an old book, thumb to the correct page, and learn how to harness the powers that only a few possess. You never know.

    Then come the characters who find someone else with magic, and they cut a deal to access this power for themselves. I don’t know many folks who have these answers, but that would be kind of cool.

    Magic can be found in our natural world if we only know where to look. Sometimes heroes connect with someone who can guide them to help them find this special place, the spirit or force where these powers flow.

    What about the wands, swords, and other artifacts that somehow possess the powers that our hero wants or needs? These heroes are powerless without them, but wouldn’t we all want something like this? I would!

    My favorite is when the hero uncovers powers from within, but it has nothing to do with birthright, but all to do about their own will. They are guided by a mentor who helps them by opening a place deep within them. I feel we all possess this kind of magic and can do wonderful things we never thought we could do. It’s up to us.

    There are so many great ways our fantasy heroes find their powers

    As promised in my last post, I am including chapter 6 from The Rings: Journey Beneath Sirok. This is Book III in The Elias Chronicles. The hero, Elias, uncovers his powers in chapters 5, 6, 7 and 8 with the help of his mentor, Tas.

    Each of these chapters Elias learns more about his powers as his mentor, guides him to uncovering his powers and magic within and how they are part of a greater source. Like I said last time, pretty cool, huh?

    The chapters are:

    • 5 – Tas (last post)
    • 6 – The Endless Within
    • 7 – The Truths
    • 8 – Dancing Souls

    So here’s the next chapter… the next two are coming soon.

    6

    The Endless Within

    First, Tas taught him rhythmic breathing. “In slow…and even…out slow…easy. “You are not your mind, but you need to ‘see’ your mind. You need to see how it works, Elias,” Tas told him. “Cast no judgment, Elias—welcome no criticism, Elias—stand apart, away from your world.” Tas moved his hands together up and down. “You are like a stone pillar. You must stand alone—nothing can get you or get into you unless you let it.” Tas placed his hand over Elias’ heart. “You see peace. You feel peace. You are free from evil, and you want to share this bliss with everyone.”

    With hours left in the day, Tas asked Elias to meditate and not to utter one word until the sun sunk beneath the green hills. Tas asked him to spend the day and watch him and his actions. 

    Tas dove into the water and swam to a tall stone pillar that protruded high into the sky. He climbed to the top. Elias followed and climbed with confidence to the top. With energy and strength that matched Tas’, though a little slower. They stood in silence and viewed the world from its pinnacle as the Turul flew close by.            

    Again, Tas dove into the water, swam to the shore, sat on a slab of limestone, and meditated. Elias stood still and watched Tas until he sat in his familiar pose. Elias twisted his waist from side to side, inhaled, and dove into the crisp, clear water below. He swam to where Tas was sitting. 

    As he looked for a place to rest, Elias chose to sit on the warm sand and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing as he took in the air slowly and evenly and out easy and even. As Tas taught him, he wiped clean all the thoughts that bounced in his head. It was difficult to do, but he continued to focus. Like the stone pillar, he saw himself as tall and strong. He was formidable. As he felt he was part of the Earth, he felt warmth move through him like a wave of strength. Is this what peace feels like? He thought.

    Moments later, Tas stood and walked to the edge of the water. A foamy wave gently washed up on his feet. Elias opened his eyes with a few blinks, got up, and walked near where Tas stood. Squatting, Tas picked up a stone that could fit in the palm of his hand. He slowly stood and brought his arm back and behind him in one motion. He tilted his head and closed one eye. His arm snapped forward, and he flung the stone with super speed. Elias was shocked. The stone hit the perch where they had stood earlier in the day.

    “Wow. How’d you do that? I mean, it really took off. I didn’t think it would ever come down. Will you show me?”

    “In due time, Elias. Now I asked you to say nothing until the sun has sunk beneath the hills.”

    “You’re right—sorry.”

    Tas said nothing but looked away, so Elias did not see the smile that took over his face.

    _______________________

    Night came, and a half-moon shone in the sky. Tas and Elias sat by a fire on the shore. Elias dared not to say anything even though his curfew was over. They heard nothing but the gentle rush of the water that flowed close to their feet and then back out. Without warning, beams of colorful light appeared from all of the stone pillars in the water and glimmered upward. Elias looked around and did not believe what he saw.

    “Those lights, Tas, what are they? They seem to be shooting up from those rocks.” 

    “Those lights are special. Every color known to man comes together and pierces the vast nothingness—the dark. It is brilliant, yes?”

    “How, how…”

    “In due time. In due time you will learn about the lights.

    So Elias, what did you learn today?” 

    “Huh?” he answered as he continued to stare at the lights. “Um…well … I must always start with what’s inside of me before I can expect to know where I’m going and what I’m going to do there.”

    Tas turned to Elias. With pursed lips, he slowly nodded. “Yes, of course, Elias—you knew that was going to be on the test. But I told you that. Tell me what came from you.”

    As he leaned back on his elbows and looked directly at Tas, Elias asked, “You don’t make any of this easy, do you?”

    Tas leaned back on his elbows as well and let out a laugh so loud it echoed from pillar to pillar.

    “Okay, let me think for a moment.” Elias looked up to the brilliance and energy of the lights that split the night. He could not stop staring at this mystery. He then gazed at the outline of the half-moon. He looked at Tas. “Okay, okay, I got it. This place—this place can be real. Yes, it can exist. I mean, what’s holding us back? Water, sun, air, trees—life; nothing here is complicated. It seems so simple, and everything seems so rich.”

    “Yes, Elias, it is a man who makes things complicated. It is a man who wants more than his fair share. It is a man who makes the decisions. He wants power.”

    “Why is that, do you suppose?” asked Elias as he looked back at the lights.

    “Because of The Two Powers.”

    “The Two Powers? What?” Elias asked.   

    “Because of the contrasts. Of the many contrasts, The Two Powers make all the difference, and One Power sometimes overshadows the other.” Tas stood up, stretched his long arms on either side and looked upward. He inhaled the fragrant, clean air and then exhaled. He looked at Elias, squatted in front of him, and said, “The Two Powers I am talking about are simply known as good and evil.’’

    “Everyone knows about good and evil. So Tas, what

    does this have to do with me, and where am I headed?” 

    “You will learn more, Elias—in due time.” Tas walked

    toward the lights.

    Elias rolled his eyes and said, “Tas, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t come here to spend time and just hang out. I’ve got to get what I need and find Zoltan. He needs help.”

    Tas turned back to Elias and said, “Impetuous Elias, that’s what you are. Let me tell you how you will get what you need. First, you will spend more time with me. Then I will ask you to leave. At that time, you will discover where you must go from here.”

    “Okay—I got it so far,” Elias said as he sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees.

    “Good—I will learn just like you.”

    “Huh?” Elias stood, stretched, and walked toward Tas. 

    Tas turned to Elias. “You heard me. I don’t have all the answers, but they will come to us somehow. But this is what I do know. You will seize a power that you will find in your soul. A power all man has but seldom uses. Call it intuition, call it a sixth sense, or call it a message from the creator of the cosmos. Whatever you call it, you will understand what this power is saying to you. It is the connection between thought and heart. It’s the Endless Within.”

    He looked puzzled and said, “Endless Within?”

    “Of course—the Endless Within!”

    “So this Endless Within…does it have something to do with these lights? 

    “Oh, it very well might.” Tas stood and walked to a smooth slab of stone. He lay down and became silent like the night. Elias looked over at him and expected him to say or do something, but he lay motionless. Elias held his open palms out to either side and shook his head.

    “Really? Hey, Tas, what are you doing?”

    “I’m trying to sleep.”

    “What? We’re in the middle of something here,” Elias blurted.

    The palette of lights that emanated from the pillars mesmerized Elias. Frustrated, he looked back at a sleeping Tas and shook his head. As he felt the strain of a long day, Elias tried to hold back a yawn, but another one followed. He rubbed his eyes and scratched the back of his neck. He nestled up near a stone ledge to his side, and, light or no light, he fell asleep.

    Look for the next chapter when Elias learns about “The Truths”.

    If you enjoyed this post, you may like these: Hero’s Journey Monomyth;Why Fantasy is a Good Read; YA Fantasy Trilogy: Saving the World One Book at a Time; Fantasy Fiction and Real Life are the Same; Storytelling Within a Story, What Mentors Do Best.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Okay, okay…for this article, I just had to do it.

    Latest Posts

    Most Viewed Posts

    All Posts

    Please notify me when you publish a new blog post.

  • Ways Our Fantasy Heroes Find Their Magical Powers: Part I

    E.G. Kardos

    Our Fantasy Heroes Find Their Powers

    Our fantasy heroes find their magical powers in many ways. But it’s not so different than how we find our own superpowers as we navigate the uncharted paths of our own lives.

    Photo by Keitma 

    Yep, we all have magical or superpowers if we only take the time and look inside.

    Read on and you will see what I mean.

    Reading, watching, and writing fantasy has been a pleasure of mine for my entire life. My imagination has run wild, and I am still searching for my superpowers. However, when I began writing my series, The Elias Chronicles, I knew exactly how Elias might find, uncover, and use his powers. It was fun to see it unfold. I felt they were my powers too. I’m not the only one who has felt this way– readers too tell me they felt the powers along with Elias.

    With intentionality and seriousness, every fantasy writer grapples with how their hero is unique and how best to show this uniqueness. How fantasy heroes find their powers is central to their being as well as crucial to the entire story. Many times it is in how the hero finds their powers or their magic that influences their use of them as well. These actions help to flesh out and define who the hero is and what they stand for.

    Here are Some Ways Our Fantasy Heroes Find Their Magical Powers

    Some are born with it. That’s the easiest way. Although I love these characters, I feel like I did when I was hanging around with the “cool” kids growing up. Why them? I would ask. I think there are many other ways our hero can become “the chosen one”…

    …so here are more ways.

    Characters might find their powers from someplace within them. Some event or situation in their lives triggers an emotion, and they begin to use their powers without even knowing it. They realize they have it—they have powers. This is a favorite of mine as I always think that maybe some event in my life with spark my unique power.

    Heroes that we love are sometimes the children of a divine or cosmic power or god. These heroes are great, and I love them as well. Unfortunately for me, I won’t be getting any suprpowers this way.

    How about the characters who have access to information, and they learn magic? This is an awesome way, as maybe I can find an old book, thumb to the correct page, and learn how to harness the powers that only a few possess. You never know.

    Then come the characters who find someone else with magic, and they cut a deal to access this power for themselves. I don’t know many folks who have these answers, but that would be kind of cool.

    Magic can be found in our natural world if we only know where to look. Sometimes heroes connect with someone who can guide them to help them find this special place, the spirit or force where these powers flow.

    What about the wands, swords, and other artifacts that somehow possess the powers that our hero wants or needs? These heroes are powerless without them, but wouldn’t we all want something like this? I would!

    My favorite is when the hero uncovers powers from within, but it has nothing to do with birthright, but all to do about their own will. They are guided by a mentor who helps them by opening a place deep within them. I feel we all possess this kind of magic and can do wonderful things we never thought we could do. It’s up to us.

    There are so many great ways our fantasy heroes find their powers

    In this post and my next three, I am sharing four chapters from The Rings: Journey Beneath Sirok. This is Book III in The Elias Chronicles. Each of these chapters Elias learns more about his powers as his mentor, Tas, guides him to uncovering the powers within and how they are part of a greater source. Pretty cool, huh?

    He pulls it together so that he is ready to continue his quest.

    The chapters are:

    • 5 – Tas
    • 6 – The Endless Within
    • 7 – The Truths
    • 8 – Dancing Souls

    Yep, we all have superpowers if we only take the time and look inside. Read on and you will see what I mean. Look for the next three chapters coming soon.

    5

    Tas

    Exhausted and out of breath, Elias tread water in the crystal clear and calm waters around him. He looked around the cavern. It was enormous, with high curved walls like the inside of a seashell. It was fragrant like the lavender in Nattymama’s herb garden. A glow came from different points under the surface of the water and threw colors onto the walls and ceiling. Elias spun in a circle as he tried to make sense of it all. 

     He kicked his weary legs to power himself onto a large flat rock. With his last ounce of energy, he hoisted himself up and laid back so he could rest. He still had scraggly tufts and long strands of coarse green hair wrapped around both ankles, and some clung to his waist. After a moment, he sat up and began to pull the gunky strands from his legs. He looked at it in disgust and tossed it to the other side of the stone slab. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a lone man that sat on the other side of the cave. The man was very still. 

    That must be him, he thought. Tas had very long black hair, which he had pulled back behind his head. Tall and lean, he wore only red baggy pants that hung from his small waist. He had colorful tattoos that covered his muscular brown arms and back. His eyes were wide and enchanting. They were perhaps his most remarkable characteristic. They were the color of dark shiny gems. 

    Tas sat undisturbed. His legs were crossed, and his back was straight. He rested his hands on his knees. He held his hands so his thumb and index finger connected and formed a perfect “O.” He pointed his chin upward toward the ceiling. 

    Not moving a muscle, Elias sat still so he could watch him. He did not know whether to call out to Tas or wait for Tas to call him. Elias was still exhausted and knew he wasn’t thinking clearly. The fight he braved had finally caught up with him. He rubbed his arms and legs as his head throbbed. Things began to look fuzzy, so he laid back. His eyelids began to close as the thoughts in his head started to make no sense. He drifted off to sleep.

    Whether it was for a few minutes or hours, Elias woke to find Tas standing over him. With one foot on either side of Elias’ chest, he stared down at him. Elias’s eyelids fluttered open, and he tried to focus on the figure above him. His body automatically tensed as he remembered when he had met the Sarkany the very same way. Only the Sarkany had his sword and pointed the tip to the amulet on his chest. At that moment, Elias became fully awake and began to wonder what would happen next. Tas’ face was stern, and he gritted his teeth, but then he let out a guttural, echoing laugh. Elias relaxed and sensed everything was fine—he was in no danger. Tas stepped aside and held out his hand to help pull Elias up. Tas crouched next to him and peered into his eyes.

    “So you must be the Elias I’ve heard so much about.”

    “Yes, and you must be the Tas I’ve heard so much about, too.

    “Why yes. That is who I am to you—today.”

    “Today? What do you mean?” 

    “I am known differently and by many names to different souls. My Earth mother knows me differently than you, as do my many sisters and brothers. Yet, all seem to choose to call me whatever they want. I despise labels…and names are only labels.”

    “I get what you’re saying. People judge, and they shouldn’t, but we all have to have a name.” 

    “I suppose you are correct. Tas is as good as any other”.

    So tell me…how is Nattymama? Oh, Nattymama—I do love that precious soul. For some reason, she holds me in such high regard. Perhaps that is a label my ego likes. I suppose there is a great deal of truth to the idea that a prophet holds no regard among those who know him or her best—perhaps that is why she sent you to me.”

    “Prophet? Are you…”

    “Ooooohhhh, please do not get me wrong. I am not a prophet. I would say I am a compassionate soul. I nourish, I connect, I challenge, and I may even inspire… I love, I have faith, and above all, I have hope for our kind—but I’m not a prophet. Perhaps, I am a teacher,” he said as he wagged his finger and laughed. “I say all this to emphasize that we often overlook the value of what is or who is directly in front of each of us at any given time. All of us can do all these things I have said—we just need to listen to one another.”

    “I suppose you are right,” Elias answered and said what he thought he should say.

    “Labels do us no good,” Tas said as he sat down. All became quiet before Tas went on to say, “But, I will tell you. Nattymama is special.”

    “How did Nattymama send word to you about me?” Elias asked. “She couldn’t have made a trip like this to tell you about me.”

    “Don’t sell Nattymama short. She doesn’t have a chain holding her to her cottage, although it is quite a lovely place,” Tas said as he looked away fondly and then continued, “But, yes, you are correct, Elias. She did not come here, but she has her ways. If you must know, the Turul told me.” “First Zoltan and then Nattymama and now you…can everyone communicate with that bird but me?”

    “In due time, Elias. In due time you will see and hear things you have never witnessed before,” Tas said with outstretched arms. “Now, tell me, have you been meditating?”

    “Huh…what do you mean?”

    “Meditation—meditation. It refreshes the mind, body, and soul. To understand the world, we must understand the world in each of us. All of our thoughts, feelings, what we do, and why. What’s in each of us is as vast as the universe. Humans would do themselves a great service if they attempted to learn the world inside them before seizing the world beyond them.”             

    “WHAT? I don’t understand why you are telling me this. I need to get answers and be on my way. I don’t have time for a philosophy lesson,” Elias said as he shook his head and grew more confused.

    Tas boomed with laughter. “My, my…you do have the temperament of an artist now, don’t you? Yes, I was told you might say something like that…in due time, Elias. I remember being young and impetuous like you.”

    “What do you mean? You can’t be much older than me. What are you twenty—twenty-five?”

    “Let’s leave it at that. Don’t worry about such things. Now, the reason that we must start with meditation is because you will learn how to concentrate and focus. Little things in life that distract will bead away like water on a duck’s back. You must learn to focus. Where you will go, you must know your purpose, and learning about yourself will make this purpose come alive. Alive! Do you follow?”

    “Really? Meditate?”

    “Oh yes—really,” Tas answered with a big nod and a tight smile. “Yeeeeesssss, you must meditate. Your brain will connect with your heart, and that feeling will always save you.”

     “Okay, okay. I’m not so sure I understood you but let’s get this over with. I’m ready. Show me how,” he grumbled.

    “Slow down, Elias. Let us take a walk outside this carved out rock, and let me show you what the world could look like—how it could look, sound, feel, smell, and taste.”         

    “I just came in from the world. I saw what it looked like. It wasn’t pretty. I don’t get what this has to do with where I’m headed. Can you give me what I need and point me in the right direction, and I will be on my way?”

    As he paid little attention to Elias’ impatient demand, Tas continued, “Bear with me. What exists only exists in your mind. Others tell us things, and we believe them. We even look for it since it has become so ingrained in our thinking. But it doesn’t have to be this way. It, however, has been the way of man for thousands of years. I’ll let you in on a secret—this place, where we stand right now, doesn’t, well, exist.”

    “Huh?”

    “It’s better to show you what doesn’t exist than to tell you. Please, follow me.”

    Tas started to walk toward a waterfall that poured from the ceiling of the chamber. Elias looked up and scratched his head. He looked over his shoulder at Elias, then calmly nodded and continued toward the cascade of white water that flowed down the glistening solid wall. Elias caught up with Tas, and they walked side by side.

    With a hiccup, Elias asked, “Hey, Tas, is there an opening up there where that waterfall begins?”

    “But, of course, there is an opening—there is always an opening. There is always a way, although it may be so slight and no one sees it.”

    They approached the waterfall, stood in front of the pounding water, and felt its cool spray. It felt good on Elias’ worn muscles and bruised skin. Elias looked to Tas, who stood with his eyes shut. 

    “Okay, Tas, now what?” 

    Tas opened his eyes and looked at Elias. As he did, he extended his arm through the powerful flow of water. Like a proscenium arch, the falling flow of water separated like a curtain, and a blinding blue and white light shone through the opening. Tas stepped forward, as did Elias. They took another step together and were now in a world that didn’t exist. 

    Before them was a body of water so still and blue that Elias was surprised. Jutting upward from the surface of the water, and scattered about were countless natural stone pillars many stories high. Wispy trees and other plants grew haphazardly on its uneven surfaces. In the distance, lush green hills separated the sky from the water. The air stirred with energy and lifted scents of lilac and other flowers and bushes. The sun shone brightly in the sky and tingled over Elias’ skin. There were no buildings, houses, or cottages. No other living creature showed themselves, with the exception of the Turul, who, with ease, glided high above on a current. Tas looked at Elias with a grin that stretched across his face. 

    “This, Elias, is the world we could live in. This place is good, and it brings joy to me. There is nothing mystical about this place—this that does not exist. Look around. There is nothing here that is not in the world—well, other than man. Here, however, is a balance—a harmony. It is the way of nature.”

    “This looks nothing like where I’ve been. I mean, my home is beautiful, but this place is, well, it’s different. It definitely doesn’t look like the path that led me here.”

    “The path getting here, or there, is the path. Here is here. They do not have to be the same,” Tas said. “And you, too, live in beauty, but it is an island if you know what I mean,” 

    “An island?”

    “Why yes. The world is full of islands of beauty—could be a place…or people, but nevertheless, they are islands that could be joined.” 

    Elias walked to the edge of the water, knelt down, cupped the water, and drank. “So this isn’t real?” Not waiting for an answer, Elias turned, looked behind him, and continued. “And just right there,” Elias pointed to the direction, he presumed, where he came, “beyond that rock is where I came from, and it was real. This is all very bizarre. What is this place, and why did Nattymama send me here?” 

    “In due time, Elias. In due time you will learn about the powers of this nonexistent place, this matrix, and why Nattymama sent you here.” Elias stood and walked to where Tas was now sitting. Elias’ stomach felt heavy, and his mind clouded over. He looked from side to side and then folded his arms across his chest.

    “Who are you? Better yet, what are you?” Elias asked. 

    “I’m Tas! Simple as that, but I’ve been described in so many ways. Some call me a dabbler in magic, a sorcerer, a magician, and some have called me a mystic. I am none of those or perhaps all of those. I hope I am more. I am a man.”

    “Okay, TAS—a man. That’s your answer to my question? I mean, really…” 

    Tas bounced up and spun around one time with his arms outstretched, “Okay, okay, Elias, you deserve more. I am a man who works to uncover what could be. I am a man who finds balance. I am a man who learns to come closer to the creator of the universe. I am a man who finds kindness and compassion should drive our actions. I am a man who works for good.”

    “So you are a holy man? A priest or rabbi or someone like that?”

    “Again, those are mere labels. Ah, ah, you are quite inquisitive. You are a curious soul, and I see you are ready for much more. I will let you in on a secret. Scientists, and the like, know that we humans use a tiny percent of our brains on any good day. You’ve heard that?”

    “Yes, I’ve heard something like that.”       

    “Well, I have uncovered the truths that allow us to use more than a small percent of what we have upstairs. It is when we connect our thoughts with the most powerful energy in our own bodies—our heart—that moves us closer to realizing what our power really looks like.”

    “Awesome. But I don’t know what that means. Now, will you give me what I need so I can get out of here?” Elias asked and shook his head. 

    “In due time. I am here for you, Elias. You will learn to help yourself, as I will find joy in being your guide. When we know ourselves, we may truly know our rightful direction. No need for you to be an island in the hideous sea that is the world.”

    Clearly, he did not pay attention to Tas’ last words, as Elias asked, “So—this place, you said it doesn’t exist?”

    “Let me put it this way. You cannot understand this place because you live in a world where man, too often, makes the meaningless appear to be desirable. This is a shame. Many times, because of his tiny brainpower, man doesn’t consider the water, the sky, the air, the fire, the animals, or the insects that slither about. We need all of these things. Where you are now— this non-place—I would have to say is meaningful and, as such, doesn’t exist. At least it doesn’t exist beyond the boundaries. With exceptions, this is a place that the living rarely comes to.”

    “Huh?”

    “Never mind that for now…this place is easy to figure out. Your world is confusing. Man, because of man and no other reason, lives in opposites. We have love, so we have hate. We have rich, so we must have poor. We have beauty, and we have what is ugly. We have good, and therefore, we must have evil. It would be absurd of me to say because we have air, we have love, and because we have hate, we have water…man can’t seem to stop comparing. This is all up to a man.”

    Elias walked back to the water’s edge, turned to Tas, and asked, “Are you saying we must know how to make sense of these opposites?” 

    “Yes, as long as man exists. But I am actually saying much more. First, man must learn to balance the opposites. If not, we are doomed. We must always fight against what is wrong, even though what is wrong may live with us forever. We might never be able to destroy what is evil, but that doesn’t give us any reason to stop fighting for what is good. Our choices make us who we are, not what surrounds us.”

    “So Tas, what am I supposed to do about it?”

    “In due time.”

    If you enjoyed this post, you may like these: Hero’s Journey Monomyth;Why Fantasy is a Good Read; YA Fantasy Trilogy: Saving the World One Book at a Time; Fantasy Fiction and Real Life are the Same; Storytelling Within a Story, What Mentors Do Best.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Okay, okay…for this article, I just had to do it.

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  • Storytelling Within a Story, What Mentors Do Best

    E.G. Kardos

    Storytelling within a story. What’s that all about?

    Many of the most powerful stories ever told feature a mentor who guides the protagonist throughout their journey. Don’t we all love mentors, both in real life and in fiction? I know I do.

    Hopefully we’re connected with some amazing women and men who help us along the complex jounrey of our lives. A few names come to my mind who guided me at various times of my life, and they have made a difference. I bet you can rattle off a name or two as well.

    In literature, thse mentors are crucial to the flow of the story, and many times, they are characters who we love.

    Some fictional favorites come to mind: Gandalf, Yoda, Miss Jean Brodie, Haymitch, Mr. Keating, Helen Burns and Dumbledore. Great stories with memorable characters.

    There are so many more who enrich the stories we read, we tell and we see.

    Common Qualities

    Side view of a senior man with expressive features and a contemplative look in a dark setting.

    Mentors in books inspire the protagonists’ ongoing journey of understanding, growth, transformation, and connection to their true selves. They help the character make sense of their relationship with a power greater than themselves… and we get to experience a spectacular ride. 

    Photo by Trưởng Bản Review

    All mentors we meet in fiction share the common quality of possessing a strong and natural desire to give of themselves for someone else’s benefit.

    Above all, they have wisdom and that’s why they guide the protagonist with storytelling within the story .

    They know how to build genuine and healthy trust, and their timing is perfect. They understand exactly when, where, and how to share their wisdom to the protagonist at that very moment they need it the most.

    Like Us, Protagonists Learn Through Stories

    Storytelling within the story is done with vivid imagery, with allegory and symbolism. Sometimes these stories push the protagonist to act or give them a signal or clue of what’s to come. Sometimes it just to teach and to remind the protagonist of what they may already know.

    They Build Trust and are Relatable

    Mentors, with their stories, build trust. Relatable, mentors often reveal their own weaknesses and flaws. They are like the protagonist in some way–and they are like us.

    If a mentor doesn’t show compassion or has empathy, they are not a mentor.

    Wisdom is knowledge tempered by experience, and because of this, they make sound judgments. But they can’t tell the protagonist this.

    Oh no, they must find out on their own.

    So there story within the story is crucial for the protagonist to begin to understand themselves, their purpose and their quest.

    The protagonist of the stories we love, keep the ideas and the stories the mentor shares in the forefront of their minds as they decide the best move to take on their, sometimes, lonely path.

    Lonely or not, their path is usually dangerous, complex and tricky so, even with a mentor and their sage advice, it is not easy. 

    In the series, The Elias Chronicles, Elias’ mentor is Zoltan. The sorcerer, guides Elias through dark and uncertain times to help him to understand why he must take his journey—one he reluctantly began.

    Here’s an example of storytelling with a story. Enjoy a chapter from the first book, The Amulet: Journey to Sirok in this trilogy where Zoltan tells a story to Elias about The Tree of Life.

    18

    Tree of Life

    Exhausted from their journey to and from Budapest, Elias slept late the next morning. When he rose, the only sign of Zoltan was the breakfast coffee being kept warm on hot coals and a hardboiled egg on a small plate. Elias ate in silence. 

    He walked out of the cave into bright sunshine and sat on the ground under The Tree of Life in solitude with his thoughts. He sat at the exact spot he had fallen to his worst fear. Cimbora lay at his feet. 

    Trying desperately to tie together all his experiences, he brooded and wondered whether or not he was ready to confront the Sarkany. Zoltan walked up the path in silence and sat on a stump about twenty paces away. Minutes passed.

    “Elias, do you know why I am able to rest my weary bones on this old and decaying stump?”

    Elias looked up at him, said nothing but answered him by shaking his head.

    “Fear, Elias, fear.”

    “Huhh?”

    “Legend has it that the enormous tree, or the one which is giving you shade right now, produced a sapling that was growing as a healthy tree. A young boy nurtured the tree and would visit it frequently. It brought him joy to see it grow, weathering harsh winters and dry summers. That sapling grew for half a century and, as that boy became a man, he came back from time to time. Nevertheless, he would return to sit in solitude to ponder life and reflect on what he found in his soul. 

    “Although the man did not know for sure, he hoped the tree he cared for was an offshoot of the Tree of Life just mere paces away. Over the years as he watched it grow, he would admire them both—The Tree of Life and the tree he had nurtured. His contribution to its growth humbled him.

    “When the man became old, he came back to spend time and sit under the tree with a book. One day when he was hiking to the where the tree grew, he heard a troubling sound. He hastened his approach. He dropped his book and ran, and out of breath he approached the tree. Shocked, he realized it was too late. A young man with an axe had one or two final swings before the tree would fall. To the old man’s horror, he saw the tree that once pointed to the heavens fall to Earth.

    “‘What did you do? That was a precious tree and a one-of-a-kind gift to this planet! With all the other trees in this forest, why this one? There must be many trees closer to your home for your fire,’ the old man screamed. 

    “The young man replied, ‘Oh, this is not for firewood. I had to destroy this tree because I feared its magnificence would overshadow The Tree of Life. It may have become too beautiful and rival what we have come to know and depend on.’

    “‘You idiot!’ the old man said. ‘You fear the wrong thing. Fear not what may become beautiful and magnificent. There’s plenty of room for what is good. Embrace it and become part of it. Destroying what might be, dishonors today and disregards our hope for tomorrow.’ 

    “With that last swing only moments earlier, the old man knew, then, that there was nothing he could have done to save the life of the tree. There was only one place the old man could go from there—forward. With great difficulty and from a place of grace, the old man forgave the young man for his foolish wrongdoing, lowered his head, and he walked away in great sorrow. 

    “A month later, the old man came back with renewed joy in his heart knowing that the time he had spent nurturing the tree and sitting under her shade during his long life gave him refuge from a tired and fearful world. For that, he was grateful, and this memory would be cherished. However, on this day, he brought with him a sapling that he knew he would never live long enough to enjoy its shade but knew others would. He planted it and took care of it until he died. Some say they still see the man in the woods. Some say they feel his presence.”

    “So, Zoltan, which tree did he plant?”

    “It is the tree to my right. It is the tree that is home to the songbirds which bring me such delight. Listen, I hear one singing.” 

    Elias looked up and saw a beautiful tree, and then back to Zoltan. The music of the songbird came to the forefront and the air was full of life. They smiled.

    “Do you know what else the old man realized?”

    “I think so.”

    “Good Elias. Well?”

    “This is just my guess, but aren’t all trees…well all things, like The Tree of Life.”

    “How so?”

    “We live on a round ball. Doesn’t that make us all at the center of the world?” Elias asked.

    “Precisely. All beings are of value and have their place—no being is more worthy than another. I see you have been thinking. Now do you see what I am talking about?”

    “Little by little. I’m starting to understand myself,” said Elias

    “Good, Elias, good! Will you tell me what you have learned from your experiences of your quest so far?”

    “My deepest fear is not failure to follow the path to my dream. My true fear is what will become of me if I succeed. If I follow my heart, will others still love me for who I will become? Will I be able to handle success? Will I be honest and kind? Will I become arrogant? Will I still be me?”

    “My dear man, let me add that we do a disservice to ourselves and the light of humanity that has come before us, to purposefully be anything less than our authentic self. We cannot strive to be anything less than who we truly are.”

    “Understanding is one thing—doing it is another,” Elias said.

    “Yes, Elias you are right. I am embarrassed to say this is why I lost my finger. The finger that made me different and reminded me of who I was and still am. I so desperately wanted to be like the others that I…that I…”

    “Say no more,” interrupted Elias.

    “What I will say is that I regret my actions. I don’t want you to regret yours. So, as I see it, you have no choice in the matter. We must love ourselves enough to fully embrace our true nature. As our self-belief magnifies, we attract others to our light.”

    “Zoltan, you have it all together.”

     “Elias, a day does not go by without reminding myself what makes my heart beat. Our very nature is genuine—it’s real. It is how we were made.

     “I now know the significance of the amulet,” said Elias.

     “Shush, Elias. Since you know, and I know, we have no need to discuss it—do we?”

    Let me know what you think in the comments section below.

    If you enjpoyed this post, take a look at these: Fantasy Fiction and Real Life are the Same, More Ways to Think About Character Development, Mentors and Young Adult Fantasy, Why Fantasy is a Good Read, Developing the Protagonist.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

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  • What is Real? Harry Potter Knows. Do You?

    E.G. Kardos

    “Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?”

    Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry’s ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.

    “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

    ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

    What is real? What is merely just in our heads? I love this quote, not just because I enjoy reading and writing fantasy, but because the question of what is real and what is happening in our heads extends far into our own thoughts and feelings more than, perhaps, we realize.

    Sometimes we act on the thoughts in our heads by moving them to the “real” world. Other times, our thoughts sit idling in our heads always to live there and never to see the light of day.

    But could both scenarios be real?

    Here’s how I interpret this scene in the book and movie:

    grey concrete castle under blue sky during daytime

    “Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?”

    Photo by Jules Marvin Eguilos

    Like most of us from time to time, Harry is unsure of himself and confused about what’s going on around him at that very moment. Or, could it be that he may be a bit fuzzy about all the experiences he has had since he first talked to the snake at the zoo? What’ more, he knows Dumbledore is dead, but he’s with him as they say, in the flesh—talking with him. If it were me, I’d be asking the same thing.

    After all, Harry’s a teenager still full of questions rather than answers. Knowing he’s the chosen one, and having been involved in countless supernatural events, doesn’t give him unlimited insights about everything. He keeps questioning his life, as he should.

    So when he asks, “Is this real?” what does he mean when he uses the word “this”? I’d like it to mean his entire adventure, his long journey, as well as that specific moment.

    But why would he ask, “…has this been happening inside his head?” when the person he’s talking to could also be in his head? Again, I have to believe that Harry is talking about his journey as he has attempted to understand it since he first arrived at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

    But that’s when Dumbledore says so matter-of-factly…

    “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry,…”

    But the defining moment comes when Dumbledore finishes his sentence and says,

    “… but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

    So, what is real? According to the “greatest wizard who ever lived”? Simply put, everything.

    And that’s all Harry needed to hear to complete his task.

    As the wise wizard, he might be saying more

    Dumbledore might be talking to Harry, but he’s also talking to us. He might be saying to us as well that what we find inside ourselves is real as well. We might not be able to touch it, smell it, hear it, taste it, or see it, but it’s as real as we are.

    It’s how we interpret life that makes it magical—or not.

    I love this quote because it makes so much sense to me. The magic of our lives isn’t what’s right in front of us; it’s how we feel about what’s right in front of us. Our emotions are powerful, and they drive our actions.

    When we feel strongly about something, we do something about it even if it seems impossible. We act out of love, we act out of fear, or with great hope. Sometimes we act with anger or despair, but we always act on what is in front of us because of what is inside our head—and heart. Our emotions make it real.

    If a thought is not in our heads, where else would we find the inspiration, drive, or desire to act? 

    One may not agree with me or may have an entirely different interpretation of this quote, and that is fine…no, that’s wonderful. Let me know what you think.

    If you like this post, you may like: Fantasy Fiction and Real Life are the Same, Mentors in Young Adult Fantasy, The Fantasy Trilogy: Saving the World One Book at a Time, or the Category, About Fantasy.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

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  • Fantasy Fiction and Real Life are the Same

    E.G. Kardos

    I’m certain that fantasy fiction and real life are inseparable.  First of all, I should say that real life is full of conflict, split-second decisions, emotional upheavals, villains, and monsters. Real life is about doom, redemption, joy, and sorrow. Loss, power, injustices, and morality are all part of real life.

    Unless you are completely unacquainted with fantasy fiction or movies, you will agree that fantasy fiction includes all the above and more.

    Thus, fantasy fiction and real life are one and the same.

    But some readers and critics say fantasy fiction is mere escapism. They want something “real”. Well, I’ll say it is a good escape as are other sub genres in fiction, but it is so much more than that. It is about real-life issues, but most time these real-life issues are displayed with more color and, perhaps, in a more satisfying way. There, I said it.

    It’s a Mirror

    Night fantasy image of mystic woman riding deer in magical forest illumination . Sublime Generative AI image .

    In fantasy fiction, writers use supernatural, whimsical, and bizarre settings primarily to reflect our lives and everything within them in a relatable and intriguing way.

    Dragons aren’t just creatures that spit fire; they symbolize something larger and sometimes more sinister. Other times they represent something entirely the opposite. The evil sorcerer isn’t just some strange outsider to ignore but represents the evil and injustices we should stand against. Living in 2025, we should be able to connect with, as well as look for such symbolism in fantasy fiction.

    Universal Themes

    If you’re human, you can relate to themes such as power, loss, social injustice, death, birth, love, and hope. Using symbolism the author shines a light on these themes as they are brought to life for the reader to ponder, but with some distance. This distance is what lies between the symbol and what it represents. It makes us think—to feel—rather than the representation being spelled out.

    This distance is powerful. 

    The reason readers keep coming back to fantasy and fiction of all sorts is that universal themes are the engine that propels not only a good story, but gives our lives substance.

    Here’s Why Fantasy Fiction Can Feel so Much Like Real Life

    Commentary of our world

    You may have heard the term “world-building”. Authors may design a fictional world to critique real-world social structures to include the political climate, the social focus and the internal landscape within the character to project a very human story.

    Sometimes these worlds depict oppression, rebellion, inequality, and other injustices. These fantastical worlds are thought-provoking and real.

    Belief Systems

    We all have them. The structures we need to build walls around our lives and to make sense of them. Hopefully, these walls have doors and arches so that we may pass through them and attempt to understand other belief systems that we don’t hold as our own.

    These structures are religions, politics, and various other associations we “need” or seek out in our lives. Fantasy fiction uses these structures that are near and dear to us to tell a story. Good versus evil comes to mind.

    Basic Human Emotions

    Fantasy stories are deeply embedded in the human experiences. Love and loss, trust and betrayal, ambition and indifference and the mere struggles we have getting from one point to another.

    The Characters

    Like in all fiction, fantasy fiction allows us to experience life through the eyes of a character that we have come to love, and by doing so, we feel for that character. Our empathy grows while reading fantasy fiction we become the hero of the journey. As our compassion grows we begin to understand and are open to others and their struggles beyond the fantasy workd and into the real world.

    Although fantasy fiction on the surface seems to many as pure escapism, it is so much more as it reflects our own lives and the world we live in. Like other types of fiction, the aim of the author is similar, but fantasy writers choose to use other ways to tell the story.

    Fantasy fiction and real life are the same. There is no way to get around that.

    Other posts about fantasy: Why Fantasy is. a Good Read, The Time We Have, From a Struggling Reader to a Writer of Fantasy, About Fantasy (category)

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

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  • The Gloaming: When Day Meets Night and it is Spectacular

    E.G. Kardos

    Ah, the gloaming. Twilight…the moment when the day dims its brilliance and welcomes the early shadows of its friendly rival, of sorts, the night.

    Madeira

    It’s far more than twilight, dusk, or the setting sun. There’s something more mystical about the moment known as the gloaming. I would say that this peaceful transition of power in nature is even magical. I’ve experienced it, have you?

    Photo by Tetyana Kovyrina

    Experiencing The Gloaming

    First you must be outside and it can be just about anywhere. I prefer where you can observe nature. It costs nothing, but if you’re willing, it just might open a door—a magical door. 

    First, clear your mind, or the door of enchantment remains closed. Be open to what your internal voice tells you. Your imagination will become heightened. You may even feel “as one” with your surroundings. As we grow older, we lose our natural sense of wonder.

    The Gloaming Begins…

    When does the gloaming begin or end? Pinpointing those exact moments isn’t easy. I would say that when the day’s clarity becomes muted and loses its luster, and displays for only a few moments blends of blues, purples, and reds, you know it’s the gloaming. It’s a feeling, too, and not a calculated moment that can be recorded.

    I love when the sun’s rays lose their intensity, and its light melts into the earth. This is the moment when only what we imagine comes alive. It is a magical moment, that is, if you permit it to be.

    After all, that’s what magic is…if you believe in it, you will be part of it.

    The magic of the gloaming is poetic…it is lyrical. The moment is enchanting as the fading light dances on the rocks, trees, or a pond, it stirs a sense of awe. The “what ifs” freely enter your mind. 

    The moment teems with the spirit we all possess as it tugs us into introspection. What we long for comes to mind as we look back on the path the day had to offer. Like that very day, we now loosen our hold of both the good and the bad that the day detailed and eases us into a smooth wholeness of the evening, where the once sharp edges are now softened.

    Lightening Bugs

    Where I am, in June and only during this month, I am joined by lightning bugs. Just think of their existence. I heard they have been around for 100 million years. It’s really pretty cool. Their flickering presence is unique, and it is dreamlike. They are a welcome guest as they are nothing less than magical.

    To their potential mate their luminescence is clear and attractive and is the door to future generations. To their predators, however, their light is a signal that if eaten, it will not fare well for the aggressor. Nature is wonderful.

    Our Thoughts are the Magic

    The gloaming sparks possibilities—some mundane and sensible, while others may be wild and untamed. Our thoughts are the magic. Our feelings float like a mystical aura, and we know there is much we cannot explain, and we are reassured that this is a good thing.

    In this vast universe, our knowledge is but a small sliver of what life is all about. As the years progress, we learn more, but we have a long road to travel before us if our goal as humans is to unravel every mystery. 

    There’s still time to enjoy the magic and mystery in each of us. I hesitate to attempt to dispel all that is magical in our lives and encourage others to consider the same. We just need to slow down and allow our minds to wander. We need the clarity of our future like the lightning bug, and subtly let it be known to our detractors that we are not to be messed with.

    I do write fiction, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true.

    Note: An Old English word, gloaming, originated with the Scottish and has been used since the Middle Ages in English and Scottish literature.

    It you enjoyed this post, you may like: Stepping Into Worlds Where I am the First to See, The Meaninbg of OUR Life, It’s All Created By the Mind

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Latest Posts

    Most Viewed Posts

    All Posts

    Please notify me when you publish a new blog post.

  • Mentors in Young Adult Fantasy 

    E.G. Kardos

    Mentors are crucial in storytelling, especially in the genre of fantasy. Aside from the “hero” in the story, the mentor is my favorite character. A good villain, for me, comes in third. The mentor and the protagonist’s relationship is special, and that is one reason I chose to share the following excerpt of The Elixir: Journey On. The Elixir is Book III of The Elias Chronicles.

    Mentors Carry a Heavy Burden

    Good mentors do many things: they guide the protagonist through an evolutionary process by providing experience and knowledge and encourage resourcefulness and independent thinking. They support our hero in any way they can. Wisdom, a characteristic overlooked in the “real” world, is cherished in the fantasy world. Sometimes mentors merely encourage and show they care

    All Mentors Posess the Power of Empowerment

    Mentors empower the hero to make decisions, and sometimes it may be the wrong choice, but our hero learns from mistakes, and mentors know this.

    Ultimately, our hero achieves personal growth even if they can’t save the world—this time.

    Some Mentors of Note

    Think of Gandalf and Frodo: Dumbledore and Harry; Aslan and Peter, Lucy, Susan, and Edmund; and in each of the three books of The Elias Chronicles, Zoltan and Elias.

    I’m sure you have a few mentors in mind as well.

    “The black moment is the moment when the real message of transformation is going to come. At the darkest moment comes the light”

    Joseph Campbell

    In The Elias Chronicles, a reader can start with any book as each is a stand-alone story. Saying that, I think to appreciate Elias’ journey and his development, I’d start with the first book, The Amulet: Journey to Sirok, and then read the second and third in order, The Rings: Journey Beneath Sirok and The Elixir: Journey On. In each you will find the mentor, Zoltan and the hero, Elias as well as many other colorful characters that will help guide or thwart Elias from his quest.

    Enjoy the excerpt…and let me know what you think. Who are your favorite mentors?

    5

    Climb The Stem

    Weary from his encounter with the Sea Serpent, Elias stretched out squarely in the middle of the boat’s deck. His thoughts wandered at best, but without notice, they pulled him back to some frightening moments. He, however, felt gratified for untangling the scary event and helping a mom. Images of her huge bony head that disagreed with her graceful cylindrical body were imprinted in his mind. Worst of all was her shriek, and he winced as he brought it to mind. What did it all mean? The serpent—the journal—his exile? Of all places, why was he here? While wondering where land could be hiding, the faces of his friends and family overpowered all his thoughts. All he could think was, will he ever see them again?

                Restless, he fiddled with a thick, coarse rope coiled to one side as he looked to the sky. Drained by his rocky voyage, he remained listless on his back as he, biding time, picked up the dagger and examined it closely. Squinting, he focused on every scratch or nuance on the cold metal blade. He delicately touched the tip of his index finger on the tiny point, and as he did, he mouthed the sound ‘ow’ while his nose twisted up on one side. Still on his back, he grabbed the hilt with two hands, and with outstretched arms, he pointed it to the blur of the heavens, ruminating about his first night on Sirok. That’s when he plucked a powerful sword from a secret vault told to him by Nattymama. The sword, he mused, saved his life on a couple of occasions when he skillfully severed the heads of the Sarkany—the three-headed, shape-shifting dragon. “Existo verus ut vestri,” he whispered, followed by, “Be true to yourself. Think of that…that was written on the blade itself, and I didn’t even know it at the time…can’t complain, as it served me well, but this oversized pen knife has done right by me too.”

                WHOOSH. At that moment, jarring him from his comfort, he heard a gigantic splash only twenty paces or so from the bow of the boat. The wave it made jostled the little craft as he jumped to his feet. With a wrinkled brow and his jaw hanging low, he peered from side to side. Keeping one eye on the white-capped waves, he reached back to grab his dagger. Bubbles jetted to the surface of the choppy water, and he waited to see if anything would pop up. Only a second later, bobbing before him, the back of a man’s head emerged, gasping uncontrollably for air. Ardently treading water, he turned, and Elias saw who thrashed about before him. He could barely believe his eyes.

                “ZOLTAN. Is that really you?”

                Zoltan, now exhausted but surprisingly calm, answered Elias. “It is I,” he gasped. “…and I came so very close to landing on the dry planks… of your vessel…right beside you.” Water splashed a few times in his face.

                “…but…but I can’t believe it,” Elias said, reacting in amazement.

                “Not to be rude, my boy, but I’m not interested in conversing at this point. Be a good man and put down your weapon to throw me a line to welcome me aboard.”           

                “Oh yeah…sorry.” With a cold slap, Elias was brought back to reality as he hurriedly tied one end of the rope to an iron ring attached to the floorboards of the deck and tossed the bulk of the looped hemp to Zoltan. He wrapped it around his arms, and like a vice, he held on securely with both hands. With somewhat of a struggle, like reeling in a blue marlin, Elias was able to tow Zoltan up and over the edge of the side of the boat. He delivered him safely to the dry deck of the lifeboat. Both Zoltan and Elias collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

                “Zoltan, are you alright? What are you doing here? Why is…”

                “Not all at once,” Zoltan said, pulling himself up to a seated position, clearing his throat between words and poking his pinky finger in one ear. “I’ve come chasing you, Elias. I sent you here…do you have a blanket in there?” he asked, pointing to the large wooden box.

                Elias froze. “Wait, what? You sent me here?” His jaw jutted forward, and he scowled at his guest.

                Zoltan kindly smiled and exhaled. He shrugged his shoulders and joined his hands together in a prayerful fashion.

                “I knew it. I don’t know why I reacted so surprised. I knew something was up, especially since I found my dagger here, but…why?” Elias said, folding his arms against his chest.

                “My good boy, I could see no other way. You have the gift, the donum…now the blanket, if you will.” Zoltan stretched out his shivering hands.

                “The donum…the DONUM…this gift is a curse! What else…what else can you tell me?” Elias retrieved a moldy moth-eaten blanket from the box and gently wrapped it around Zoltan’s shoulders.

                “If you settle yourself down one iota, I will tell you—you temperamental artists are something else,” he kindheartedly said under his breath.

                Elias’ shoulders sank, and he let out a sigh as he sat next to the old man.   

    “I detected something sinister as the smoke of the kingdom wafted our way,” Zoltan said with an easy monotone. Now for a cup of coffee. Do you have one?”

                “What? Coffee? Are you serious? We’re on a banged-up boat in the middle of nowhere. What are you thinking?”

                “I see your point,” Zoltan said as he placed his hands one over the other and quickly clapped his upper hand to his lower, at which time a hot pot of steaming coffee and two mugs hovered before them.       

                “Awesome, Zoltan. You’ll have to teach me that one,” Elias said as he briefly forgot about his frustration with his new and unasked-for adventure.

                “Oh, you will learn how and quite a bit more. Now pour the

    coffee, and let’s talk,” said Zoltan as a soft, salty breeze gave him a slight stir.

                Elias poured the coffee and looked with admiration at his old friend. “So what can you tell me?”

                Using both hands to sip from the mug, Zoltan said, “I can tell you very little at this point. I have a morsel of information to share, but not much. Believe me when I say I know very little.”

                Short-fused, Elias blurted out, “A morsel. A morsel! You send me here, and YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHY?” You know I was just attacked by a sea serpent and…”

                “Good for you, Elias,” Zoltan interjected gleefully, cutting Elias off mid-sentence. “You must have fared quite well as I do not see any hideous blemishes on you, and I don’t see the serpent anywhere,” Zoltan added while looking out to the vast gray rolling waves.            

                Collecting his thoughts, Elias knew his frayed nerves would lead him somewhere he’d rather keep to himself and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Zoltan…I’m tired and so… alone.” Elias looked down at his hands, sniffed a few times, and then rubbed his nose. He looked out to the sea as a breeze caught his floppy hair and tousled it in a few directions. “Like I was abandoned until you showed up. I just don’t know what to make of all this. It’s time for me to go home and do what I want to do. I earned it, after all. That’s why I traveled to find you in the first place—to find out who I am and do what I love. And traveling to the Under World to find you and all I did there. I’ve done enough—I’ve earned it.”

                “You earned it? Yes, I can see your point. First of all, thank you as you saved me from the clutches of Ordak, and you are quite humble as you set the oppressed folks of the kingdom free. But my good boy, I am sorry to say that, now, those things matter not, at least not for the short run.”

                “Huh? I feel my life is out of control.”

                “Elias, life is full of the unexpected, but we seem to forget that and think life SHOULD be full of the ‘expected,’ Zoltan said in a very calm but exacting tone. “You are in the middle of, shall I say, a twist and, for that matter, a turn—and perhaps another twist. I must say you are who you are whether you like it or not, and you should think of it as a privilege to be you and grab hold of every moment of your life. It is up to you to make the most of it. Let me pour you another cup of coffee.” 

                “Okay, okay, but I don’t like it, and I’m not talking about the coffee,” Elias said, sitting back and looking at the sea. It was now quiet as the endless waves that relentlessly wrapped themselves around the boat seemed like a warm embrace as they continued to lap lower against the sides. It was still. 

                “I know you are unhappy with me, and you have every right to be so, but in the end, you will understand. You will. Trust me.”

                Ignoring Zoltan’s words, Elias asked, “So tell me, how is everyone—Kelsa?”

                “She is just fine. I managed to redirect both her and Cimbora safely to a place where you will see them soon. Don’t ask me why, as I had to act quickly when Ordak was breathing down our necks—before our dear friends, the Bee People, whisked him away. Oh, that was such a special moment just hearing the hum.” They both laughed and sipped from their cups.

                “I think I know the moment—yeah, the exact moment. He almost picked up on what you were doing. I could tell you were doing something, but I had no clue,” said Elias. 

                “To tell you the truth, I was not so sure myself.” Zoltan winked.

                “And the others?” Elias asked abruptly, changing the subject.

                “Nattymama and your family are fine. Oh yes, and before I forget, you must understand that time counts differently there versus here. It may seem like only a minute to some but an eternity to others, but this will all be clearer to you later.”

                “You haven’t even told me where I’m going.”   

                “Oh yes. In a moment,” Zoltan replied with a light chuckle. “As far as the others, Lantos and Gaspar are back in their homes, I presume, and Akota is being celebrated by the Seraph people and the former Inhabitants of The Kingdom of Gold. And by the way, passing the ring to him has made all the difference for his people. You have shared the donum, and you have yet to realize your brilliance in doing so.” 

                Elias smiled, but he quickly looked down at the splintering planks below. Zoltan felt his angst and wanted to comfort him.

                “Oh yes, you may long for them and feel you are missing out—but you are not truly missing out as you are where you are supposed to be—that’s the difference. Elias, do not pine for what was or what you think is, nor reach for what you think might be. It is today that matters as we may, most assuredly, count the days we have lived, but we cannot even attempt to count the days ahead of us. Life does, indeed, have a starting point for all, but the endpoint is a mystery. But I dare say, life has a habit of going on whether we like it or not—even if we are in it or not,” said Zoltan.

                Elias said nothing but looked fondly at Zoltan, then turned and stared at the horizon. As he nodded, a wide smile came across his face as Zoltan sipped from the mug. At that moment, a sparkling aqua and sapphire-colored dragonfly landed on Elias’ knuckle. Without moving his head, he gazed down at the quiet and majestic creature.

                “We must be near land,” Elias’ eyes lit up as he kept still and looked intently at the dragonfly.

                “Elias, I believe you are correct. That little fellow reminds me of a story I was once told. A story that others have passed down over many years and, as time so masterfully can do, has gobbled up the author’s name. Would you like to hear a story?” 

                Elias faced Zoltan and looked into his eyes. He couldn’t help Zoltan’s allure as he looked into the recesses of his pupils. The eyes that have seen a thousand years. The eyes that have looked deep inside of him. Elias nodded and smiled.

                “A time not so long ago, there was a pond like any other pond—perhaps like the ones around your home or mine. Do you know the kind

    of pond I speak of?”

                “Sure, Zoltan, go on.”

                “Okay then… in the muddy water under the lily pads, there lived a little neighborhood of water bugs—cute little things. This tiny community lived a simple and predictable life in the murky water. Little concerned them, for the most part, so they were happy creatures. As it is with any community, sadness would come at peculiar times. On occasion, and without warning, a water bug would journey up the stem of a lily pad. To an onlooker in the water bug community, this was not a good sign.”

                “So the water bug crawled up the stem of a water lily—how is that sad?” asked Elias.

                “Well, Elias, all the water bugs knew was that when they saw one of their own make the climb, their friend or family member would never be seen again.” Zoltan paused and looked away.

                “That’s not much of a story. So the water bug climbed up the stem, and a hungry bird ate it. Great story, Zoltan,” Elias said, shaking his head.

                “Elias, my boy, that is not the end of the story—far from it. Would you allow me to proceed?”

                Elias nodded. “Sorry.”

                “Okay then. The water bugs knew they would never see their friend again. They, like you, thought the worst. They thought their friend was dead. 

    As it so happened one day, and with no warning to his family or friends, the littlest of water bugs felt an overpowering yearning to journey up that stem. However, he was determined to return to the community and tell his family and friends what he found on the other side. They pleaded with him not to go, but he did anyway. He began to climb the stem. When he reached the surface of the water, he journeyed out of the water onto a lily pad. Because of his climb, he was very tired, and the sun felt good. So the little water bug decided he must close his weary eyes and sleep. 

                During his nap, he changed. When he woke, he had turned into a beautiful aqua and sapphire dragonfly with graceful wings and a slender body created for flying. Therefore, that’s exactly what he did. He soared high above and looked at all below him. He skirted downward and skimmed the surface of the water. He saw new worlds in all its beauty. His perspective was new and fresh—one he thought never existed before that fateful day. 

                One day, while resting on the arm of a boy, he thought of his friends and family and how they must think he was now dead. It reminded him that he desperately wanted to tell them otherwise and share with them the joy he had found. He hovered over the surface of the water where his family and friends lived, and he could barely make out the little community below. The water was murky that day. He attempted to fly through the surface of the water, but when he tried to reemerge into the water, he could not. He tried and tried and tried to break the surface of the water to no avail. He could see the water bugs below as they continued their simple life. He wanted to explain how he was alive and how wonderful life really was. He wanted to talk about the fulfillment he felt.             

                Attempt after attempt, he thought differently about telling them and began to understand he was now in the place where he should be. He hoped that their time would come and they, too, would realize that they have wings and one day they would join him. With one last look, he knew what he had to do, and he took to flight, never to allow the past to hold him back. He knew he had to taste the wonders of what today brings.”

                 “So, I’m the dragonfly?” Elias smugly asked.

                “You? Maybe the both of us—our friends, too, perchance. But the story, albeit simple, tells more. Think about it.”

                “I see where it is about living and becoming, but it is also about death. Right?”

                “Oh, Elias, it is for you to grapple with—let us speak of it no more.”

                A huge smooth swell, the size of a modest house, mildly rolled under the lifeboat, placing them high above. As soon as they were at the pinnacle, they descended to a level where all they could see around them was a wall of water. As they evened out, the clouds vanished, and the placid wave slowly moved further away. Many smaller ones rapidly made their presence known as they slapped the boat in all directions. Elias and Zoltan held tight to the sides of the craft until all was calm.

                “What was that all about?” Elias said.

                “My boy, look over your shoulder, and you will see.”

                Elias turned, and a good five or six sea miles before them was an iridescent glow the size of a small island of purples, blues, and red. It twinkled in the bright sunlight. Like the waves, the oddity seemed to be covering something as its hues swayed and fluttered to greens, yellows, and orange. It was a magnificent sight.

                “Wow! I’ve never seen anything like it before,” said Elias.

                “Nor I…nor I.”

                “What do you think it is, Zoltan?”

                “There’s nothing like a good mystery than one that is about to unfold in front of our very eyes. Let’s wait and see.”

                As they got closer to the spectacle, they noticed that around the edges of the colors and lights seemed to unravel. Specs, as they thought, were drifting away, and as they did, the two saw rocks, trees, and a mountain.

                “Zoltan, they’re dragonflies. Millions of dragonflies.”

                “So they are. Very interesting,” Zoltan said, leaning toward Elias. “There is something I must tell you.”

    I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. Let me know what you think below.

    You may also enjoy: The Fantasy Trilogy: Saving the World One Book at a Time; Be True to Yourself: The Amulet: Journey to Sirok; “A Hero Ventures Forth…” Life May Be Imitating Art; Why Fantasy is a Good Read

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Latest Posts

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    All Posts

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  • YA Fantasy Trilogy: Saving the World One Book at a Time

    ,

    E.G. Kardos

    Writing a YA fantasy trilogy can be tricky. Writers and readers of fantasy think through many questions. Here are a few: does the reader have to start with the first book to make sense of the second and the third? Should I write the series so, if a reader chooses, they could start with the second, or even the third book before the first one? As a YA fantasy trilogy, should all the stories be clearly connected…a continuation…or just the hero’s next quest?

    These are valid questions for a writer –and a reader. In my fantasy trilogy, The Elias Chronicles , a reader can start with any book as each is a stand-alone story. Saying that, I think to appreciate Elias’ journey and his development, I’d start with the first book, The Amulet: Journey to Sirok, and then read the second and third in order, The Rings: Journey Beneath Sirok and The Elixir: Journey On.

    As a YA fantasy trilogy, each book is connected as the stories follow the one before. Saying that, I include just enough of the previous storyline so the reader can easily get into the story and begin to connect with the main character, Elias.

    What’s this YA Fantasy Trilogy About?

    Without giving away any spoilers, in The Amulet, Elias learns all about himself by way of a journey he must take to truly understand who he is.

    In The Rings he realizes a friend is in danger but before he can find him, Elias must harness the powers he uncovered in the first story to not only save his friend, but he learns he must alos save a community that has been ravaged by false promises.

    In Book III, The Elixir, Elias has been called to protect the elixir that if it lands in the wrong hands could bring destruction to the planet. What is the elixir?

    As each book is truly a stand-alone story, Elias goes from self, to community to saving the world and….

    …after all, it is fantasy…but aren’t we all trying to save the world in our own way?

    This story best described by this quote by  Joseph Campbell.

    “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.”

    Here’s Chapter 1 of The Rings: Journey Beneath Sirok, Book II of the fantasy trilogy, The Elias Chronicles. Enjoy!

    “…Elias is a character we can all connect with, as he has a good soul and always strives to do right… things like choosing kindness and good over evil…the storyline is a bit unpredictable, which is a welcome relief from a lot of fantasy writing out there right now…I would recommend this book to people who like fantasy stories with lots of fun characters and cool settings…”  

    ThisKidReviewsBooks.com

    1

    From the Crevasses

    The moment had changed time and space forever. The serpent no longer slithered inside, but for now, Elias knew how it had lived and died. 

                Alone, he stood atop the mountain of Sirok. His crusade had been long, but it was now over. As he stood tall, he savored his sweet victory for only a moment as it was time to return to what was familiar. It was time to move on, but he knew his experience with the serpent was now a part of him forever. 

                With only the sounds of a breeze that kicked up the sand where he stood, he looked at the dark and infinite early morning sky. Ribbons of faint light picked up the colors of the Earth and began to fan out. It was like a magnificent painting. The shades of night tinted the light of the morning and then pulled apart so that the darkness faded softly out of sight. 

    He bowed his head and slipped the amulet back around his neck. He knew all too well what it meant when he felt it against his chest. Smiling, he had thought of the exact time he had realized its worth—when it had saved him. 

    Elias scanned the area and let out a sigh. He saw the dragon’s sword on the ground, partly covered by debris, and

    then he grabbed its grip. He looked it over. Suddenly, the wind whipped up, and it forced him to look away. That’s when he saw his sword. Unlike the other blade, his sword stood upright and pierced the Earth. He gripped the hilt and pulled it from the ground. He held it high and looked at the long metal and thought about the force it commanded. These twin swords that once had unleashed an incredible power were nothing more than two cold steel blades. He sealed them away in the compartment at the base of the arch just as his grandmother had instructed him when he prepared for his journey.

                With the toe of his boot, he poked at the dying embers of the campfire. He scooped up the sandy soil of Sirok, covered the coals, and stomped out the edges of the fire. Still feeling the surge of confidence that came with his victory, he felt grateful the fight was over. Elias knew it was time to go home.    

    As he sucked in a heavy breath, he began to descend the crooked path on the rough terrain to journey home. His faithful dog, Cimbora, was at his side just as he had been during his adventure. Elias no longer feared the Sarkany, the evil dragon, as his fears he would find now lay elsewhere. He hoped never to return to this mountain. Elias’ head was full of thoughts of his family. He had left them many weeks ago when he felt he had no choice. His Papa had made it clear to him that there was no place for artists on a farm. Elias’ grandmother, Nattymama, had prepared him to search for the sorcerer, Zoltan, to help him uncover a peace that he would find only in his heart.    

    No sooner had Elias turned and walked away; than the ground trembled. Elias stopped. He looked back, and he saw nothing, but still, he paused. Something was there. He just knew it. He looked around but saw nothing unusual. He turned and continued his descent on his path toward the village. Cimbora, however, stood frozen about fifteen steps behind Elias. He stared at the smoldering campfire. He jerked his head, and then he trotted to catch up with Elias. He stopped once or twice and turned to look behind him. Cimbora sniffed the air. Before long, they were far enough down the mountain and could no longer see the camp.

                The crevasses in the ancient stones that surrounded the campfire tore open and made each gash deeper and longer. A cold wind whipped from them and swept over the dying embers. Too cold to be of this Earth, more wind streamed out from the rock fissures at the top of Sirok, where Elias had been just moments before. The wind spun itself, caught dirt and grit, and pulled in the cinders from the almost-dead fire. 

                The wind now lofted gently around the warm coals as the charm was now in play. Once again, the embers sparked into a flame. The flame hesitated briefly, but it flickered in reds and

    blues as the wind all but diminished. 

                The flame became a fire, and the fire became an inferno.

    ♦ ♦ ♦

    I hope you want to read more…

    You may enjoy these posts: Be True to Yourself: The Amulet: Journey to Sirok, “A Hero Ventures Forth…” Life May Be Imitating Art, Why Fantasy is a Good Read

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Latest Posts

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    Please notify me when you publish a new blog post.

  • “A Hero Ventures Forth…” Life May Be Imitating Art

    E.G. Kardos

    “A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered, and a decisive victory is won.”

    This quote by Joseph Campbell has meaning to all cultures over thousands of years…and that’s a long time.

    It’s so true and easy to see. Think of the last book you read or even the last movie you saw. Didn’t the main characters find themselves in a situation that blindsided them or one that they just couldn’t refuse—no matter what? They may not have “ventured” from the common day into the supernatural world—or maybe they did—but they left a place that was safe or familiar to a place that was unpredictable, scary, or even so horrifying with no seemingly good way to escape…but they do.

    They escape, make a difference, reshape the world, or better yet, they reshape themselves.

    Life Imitating Art or …

    These are the stories we as the reader or viewer resonate with the main character—the hero. We actually feel we have become the hero. We relate to the “good guy”, or his/her “treasure” is also our treasure. If we don’t feel that way, however, the story goes thud and it doesn’t sit on top of our list of best stories of all time that we’ve read or movies we’ve seen.

    Good storytelling, and some not-so-good storytelling, has been around forever—forever. When you think for a moment, most stories are allegories, unless it is, of course, non-fiction. An allegory is a story in which the character or situation symbolizes something greater than the actions taking place. These symbols tell us something about our life or our community. 

    Fiction Interprets Life

    I literally cringe when I am told something like, “I don’t read fiction, especially fantasy. I only read what’s real.” Oh really? What’s real? Our best stories and best storytellers of all time over the centuries were/are all about interpreting life, or what is real, in new and reimagined ways. Think about it. Even non-fiction accounts and biographies are embellished. Fiction gives us more than the black-and-white of facts, accounts, or events. It gives us the texture, color, brightness, and clarity we seek in life.

    Whether our day is mundane or extraordinary, we are the hero of our own journey—yep, our story can be pretty cool too. It doesn’t matter if you are 16 or 66, we all have something to share.

    Sometimes our story is all about our very private quest to live a life of our own making and to follow our own truth.

    We Face Challenges

    Sometimes, as Campbell insists, we must let go of the life we are building for ourselves to find the life we are meant to live. That’s our story—that’s you and me. Don’t we venture forth and find a world full of surprises? Life is full of challenges whether we like it or not. It’s all in how we approach that modern-day dragon that makes us truly a “hero” or not.

    Nevertheless, we must champion what’s right for us and stand up to the villains and beasts in our own quest. Sometimes that’s a neighbor, a boss, a system, or a belief. When we do this, however, we begin to harness “fabulous forces”, and unfortunately, a “decisive victory” is won—or not. There’s always the next chapter.

    Make Believe or Truth?

    Fiction in all its pretense and make-believe actually tells us the truth, that is, if you’re open to it. Since the beginning of time, humans have told tales about what they know best—themselves and their struggles. Whether we read about it or live it, you are the “hero”, and every story told or written over the years is about you. It is how humans have overcome tyrants, natural disasters and the voice within that is not always so kind.

    Fiction adds a perspective that with some distance, gives an extra light that’s just enough to give us the clarity we seek.

    Stories passed down for thousands of years are all about who we are. We are the heroes of every journey in every story over generations. I’m just not sure if life imitates art or if it’s the other way around. I do know, however, that fiction is all about the truth.

    In future posts, I will share my thoughts on the Hero’s Journey and its 12 stages to tell a story.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Latest Posts

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    All Posts

    Please notify me when you publish a new blog post.


  • Be True to Yourself: The Amulet: Journey to Sirok

    E.G. Kardos

    Be true to yourself. It is only when we follow our hearts that we may truly know who we are and how we should live our lives. As Socrates said, “know thyself”. It’s not so much about having a dream as we all have them. But those dreams may be misguided.

    But by listening to our hearts, it can make all the difference.

    The Amulet: Journey to Sirok is Book I of the trilogy, The Elias Chronicles. I wrote this with young AND older readers in mind. Rich in symbolism and life themes that resonate with all ages, I wanted to share a story about the heart. When I received the following testimonial, I was deeply touched as this is what I set out to do.

    ABOUT The Elias Chronicles:

    In the spirit of C.S. Lewis, the fantasy is never about the fantastical; it’s about deeply human and moral concerns: identity, voice, virtue, family, and conflict. A joyous, satisfying, life-affirming read!”

    Dr. William R. Muth, Editorial Advisory Board: Journal of Adolescent and Adult Literacy

    Below, I am sharing the first seven pages of The Amulet: Journey to Sirok. I hope you enjoy it and join Elias on the rest of his journey. You will find it is YOUR journey too!

    PROLOGUE

    Legend of Sirok

    When the serpent is slithering inside, you will know it, but only with the gift you will understand how it lives and how it dies.” That’s where she always began.  

    Like many women before her, Nattymama passed the legend down to  all who would listen. There were those, of course, who would hear but  would not heed her words. Good fortune, however, came to most who  listened. 

    On the spring equinox at the precise time that winter turned to  spring, Nattymama dusted off a tattered, yellowed scroll and read aloud  to the children in the center of the village. Her account began where the  castle now lay in ruins just to the north of the village on a small rocky  mountain.  

    She told her tale as if it happened only yesterday—or for that matter,  she told it as if it might just happen again. 

    Her story was known to many as The Legend of Sirok. 

    As a young boy, Elias sat front and center and listened to Nattymama,  his grandmother, who brought to life the events that she traced back a  thousand years. He hung on to her every word and getting through the  scary passages took all the courage he could muster. Keeping one eye closed  during some scenes, he patiently waited for his favorite parts. He couldn’t  get enough of the battle that played out in his head or the amazing way  the story ended. For many years to come, he would hear her voice in his  head telling the story just as if he was listening to her for the first time.  Oftentimes he thought of what the legend truly meant. He had all but  committed the ending to memory. 

    “…centuries ago, a lightning bolt hurtled upward from the center of the  Castle of Sirok. The beam split the clear sky. It was then that the thunder  rumbled like a stampede of a thousand water buffalos as bloated clouds,  the color of dried ox blood, gobbled up the open sky. All was dark— 

    motionless. One moment passed and then another, but on the third tick  of a clock, sheets of rain began to pelt the kingdom. This storm was like  no other as something mystical must have been in each and every drop.  

    “Hours passed and  the  rain subsided. Within moments it was certain  that the downpour had washed away what contaminated the gilded  kingdom. Not long after the rainstorm, curls of black smoke billowed  from somewhere near the core of Sirok where huge flames casted an eerie  glow on the naked kingdom.  

    “Still masked by smoke, the sun  eventually  shone through misshapen  holes in the black blanket of clouds above. With little warning, what  was left of the suffocating smoke all but vanished allowing more threads  of light to reveal the stone structures high on the mountaintop. Without  so much as a smoldering ember, Sirok was reborn. Unlike its old, garish  facade, it now stood in simplicity and beauty. 

    “A bird sang followed by another. The water was clean, and the air was  fresh. The buildings were bright, and the roads led freely in and out. The  people saw each other in a new way. The people smiled.

    “Filled with joy, the warrior mounted a horse and rode down the rocky  path that few dared to travel. At the foot of the mountain, a hundred or  so villagers looked on with blank stares. They said little as they witnessed  such chaos that only minutes earlier turned the kingdom into something  new—something altogether different from what had stood before. 

    “Galloping down the rocky path, the villagers focused on the mysterious  young man. The only sounds one could hear were the pounding of the  hooves drubbing on the rocky soil. Thump, thump, thump! The warrior,  who they discovered was a mere boy, raced up to where the villagers  gathered. He yanked on the reins much to the displeasure of his faithful  steed and spoke to the crowd. 

    ‘“What the evil one seized, the people of the kingdom have reclaimed.  With this newfound will, we are now free and have washed our hands of  our needless guilt. We have nothing to fear as we now know who we are.’”

    Nattymama continued, “The villagers standing before the warrior were  a field of statues who said nothing, much to the young warrior’s surprise.  He spoke again. 

    “‘Don’t you see? Our misguided ways in Sirok had become a way of life.  We believed in the wrong things. We lived behind a veil, but it is a new  day for us—and you— as we are the victors.’ 

    “‘So where is he? The evil one?’ a man shouted from the crowd. 

    “‘He is victim of his own undoing and sealed his fate in the eternal fire  of his own making,’ said the warrior. ‘Our resolve is golden. We are the  victors,’ said the boy warrior. 

    “‘An old woman shouted. ‘But what on earth will become of those poor  souls who lived in the Kingdom of Sirok?’ 

    ‘“Oh, dear woman, you do not understand me. They are free. Free! Their  very spirit will make them whole. Sirok will never be the same again; all  those who come to know Sirok, to really know it, will be forever changed.  Sirok is at our very core.’

    “The warrior looked down to his finger that bore a ring that sparkled in  the morning light. He thought of the boy who gave up one treasure for  another and he lifted his chin with confidence and raised his open palm  to the crowd. 

    “He gazed out to the souls who stood in silence and abruptly tugged on  the reins. The stallion reared back on its hind legs and then galloped at top  speed up the rocky mountain.”

    Chapter 1

    Elias

    Like a breeze sifts through the morning mist, his brush strokes barely  touched the canvas. The bristles of his well-worn brush were thin as  many had been lost on previous paintings. This made no difference as his  paintbrush was an extension of his fingers. With his right hand, he dabbed  a speck of magenta and with his left, reddish-brown. 

    With a wisp of a stroke his imagination erupted as he envisioned a  coiled snake on the other side of a fallen tree. Not far away from the rotting  trunk, he created another tale of gypsies who plodded down the narrow  trails below the hill. He was bringing meaning to a deep forest as it was  taking shape on the scuffed-up canvas. His images were fresh as he blended  what he saw in front of him with what he could see in his mind’s eye. It all  lived in that moment and began a life of its own on the flat surface.  

    Elias tilted his head from side to side and inhaled the pure mountain  air as he measured his progress. Looking away at the rolling Mátra  Mountain range, he could smell and taste a mix of deciduous beech and birch trees that sat on a draft coming from the east. One day I’ll catch this  scent in a painting…yeah, I need to figure that out, he thought. 

    When he had arrived a few hours earlier, the sky was a deep blue with  only the faintest veil of clouds on the horizon that played with the smooth  and rolling mountain crests. The heavens were now a smear of amber as the  spectrum of colors gradually cloaked the sky. This moment was altogether  different as he noticed the new colors sharpen above.  

    Perched high upon a cliff, he was alone as he swapped a blank canvas  for what was becoming a kaleidoscope of the Hungarian landscape. This  was his haven. He entwined himself with the beauty and love of nature.  This was nothing new. From a young age, Elias knew what stirred his heart. 

    He made his own canvases by stretching remnants of an abandoned  gypsy tent over a frame he made from a discarded wooden crate.  Nattymama, who was an herbalist, mixed and blended his paints using her  own recipe. His brushes were horsehair affixed to slender but sturdy sprigs  from a nearby cypress tree. Elias used old forgotten wooden dowels and  hinges he found and made them into a sturdy easel. This was all he needed. 

    Elias’ long brown hair grazed his shoulders. His light brown eyes  were striking and ominous to some but opened a gateway to a peace from  deep within him. Lean and average height, he could be pensive and appear brooding at times. Although he was private and a little shy, Elias seldom  kept his thoughts to himself if others pushed, teased, or tested him in any  manner. Like his paintings, he was an original. He was an old soul who  was true to his feelings. He, became frustrated from time to time because  others didn’t take their time to even try to understand him. 

    Pausing for a moment, he surveyed the vast and beautiful terrain, and  he wondered what he could find if he went deep inside the forest well  beyond the trees and rocks that were in plain view. He loved what he  painted and allowed his imagination to fill in the blanks, but he wanted to  know and experience more.  

    The forest looked dark, dense, and cold, but that was just an assumption  or a guess—he wanted to know for sure. He had never traveled the paths  within. Papa cautioned him about the dangers, telling him he could enter at his own risk, but it would be far better to leave the forest alone as there  was much to do right around home. 

    At ease with his own thoughts and feelings, Elias was happy and  fulfilled, but he had a darker side too. An inner voice gnawed at him,  reminding him that he was different from the others in his family and  those in and around the village. What he felt, he shared with only a few, so  he expressed himself in his artwork. As he pieced together in his mind who  he thought he was and wanted to be, it was clear what caused the special  beat in his heart and what created personal joy deep within him. 

    ♦ ♦ ♦

    Elias’s home and family farm were close to where he liked to paint.  They lived about three kilometers from a small village. With four large  rooms and a loft, Papa built their house of white stucco and a thatched  roof. Various supporting buildings, including a small barn and a few sheds,  completed their home.  

    Inside their house, the walls were pure white. Large exposed and rough  beams separated the living area from the loft, where the children slept.  The furnishings were colorful, like his palette, as were the meticulously  crafted quilts and wall hangings Mama and other women in the family  had embroidered. They delicately stitched them with intricate detail over  many generations. One of Elias’ paintings hung over the hearth at Mama’s  insistence. It was a warm yet functional home. 

    They grew wheat. Livestock on the farm included a cow, a few oxen,  some sheep, chickens, and a rooster. Mama and Papa were raising three  boys and two girls, and Elias was the second oldest boy at fifteen. 

    Wiping her pale face with floury fingers, Mama stood on tiptoes to  reach a bowl from a cupboard. Grabbing the bowl with one hand and  tucking it… 

    I hope you want to read more. The trilogy awaits!

    You may enjoy these posts too: The Hero’s Journey, “A Hero Ventures Forth…”, Why Fantasy is a Good Read, From A Struggling Reader to Writing Fantasy, and The Time We Have.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

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  • Why Fantasy is a Good Read

    E.G. Kardos

    I don’t say that fantasy is a good read because I wrote a fantasy series, but because it just is, and I’ll share with you why I say that.

    But first we should take a step back…

    Back in the day, whenever that was, there were only four genres in literature: fiction, nonfiction poetry, and drama. Now we have so many variations that you’d be hard-pressed to come up with a true number of literary genres. I’ve seen lists well into the fifties.  

    In my research, there appear to be eleven popular genres, and they are: Romance, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Paranormal, Mystery, Horror, Thriller/Suspense, Action Adventure, Historical Fiction, and Contemporary Fiction. Poetry and Drama don’t even appear on this list anymore. 

    Eighteen Fantasy Sub-Genres

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    According to Masterclass, there are eighteen Fantasy sub-genres. About thirty-six to forty percent of all genres are fantasy. Clearly folks like to read fantasy! My series includes elements of both High and Low fantasy with that of Sword and Sorcery and some Crossroads fantasy.

    Photo by jplenio

    “Don’t like Fantasy?” I Just Can’t Believe It

    When folks share with me that they don’t like fantasy, I’m always a bit puzzled. Fantasy at its core is the reflection of us–of them. Stories of the supernatural, the horrific, and ones that focus on a hero or superhero have sustained, bedazzled and taught humanity since the beginning of time.

    Belief systems mirror fantasy and fantasy mirrors belief systems.

    Belief systems mirror fantasy and fantasy mirrors belief systems. I, of course, respect that they don’t “like” fantasy, but I often respond that if they want to learn more about themselves and all of humanity, they might just do so reading fantasy as well as finding a sense of wonderment and awe.

    But Many Find Fantasy a Good Read

    Fantasy readership has exploded in the last few decades. According to a recent study I found on New Book, a significant portion of fantasy readers span the generations.

    Fantasy readership statistics show that a significant portion of readers are young adults, with many over 18 years old. Many started reading fantasy at around 15. The average age, however, is 42 and a slight majority (55%) is female. No matter what age a fantasy reader is, no reading level is out of bounds. Trends show a growing adult audience that is reading young adult fantasy. That’s good for me as I like reading and writing fantasy that may be geared to younger readers. 

    Around 46% of those surveyed favored fantasy as their preferred genre. Many who read fantasy enjoy elements of escapism and adventure.

    Don’t Older Folks Read Fantasy?

    I’m an older reader and writer of fantasy and it bothers me that my demographic doesn’t appear in this study or others. I can’t believe folks around my age don’t read any sub-genre of fantasy. It amazes me that I grew up in a time of lots of fantasy and sci-fi in books, on TV as well as in the movies. Dune, The Lord of the Rings, Brave New World, the Lion Witch and the Wardrobe, Out of the Silent Planet, and A Wrinkle in Time were some of the popular reads. On TV and film there was Star Trek, the Twilight Zone, The Planet of the Apes, Willie Wonka among mnay others.

    So why do older readers shun fantasy? I sometimes think that the older we get we grow further apart from admitting we need a superhero or appreciating the magic that at one point was firmly secure in our imagination. Escaping int a story or going on a mystical adventure has been replaced with stressing out over current events and worrying about the future or regreting the past. This has a way of draining our soul. That’s the last thing we need. We need more fantasy!

    Fantasy is a Good Read as it Does it All

    Fantasy does it all. It entertains and by doing so, we see our reflection in the characters. We relate to their values, and we are there with them on the adventure. The story gives us pause as we think if that could be us one day. Sometimes we see that it is us already good or bad. In fantasy there is always an element of hope–of something greater.

    Fantasy at its very core is a very human story. That’s why fantasy is a good read.

    For the older reader, learn from the youger reader. I say that we yearn for magic, mystery and marvel and we shouldn’t let it slip away. Fantasy at its core is a very human story. It gives us an adventure of a lifetime. It has a way of teaching us something about humanity, our universe and our very existence even when we don’t look for it. 

    Note: I wrote The Elias Chronicles

    You may also like these posts: From a Struggling Reader to Writing Fantasy, The Time We Have, The Hero’s Journey, Magic in a Simple Message

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

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  • The Time We Have

    E.G. Kardos

    “I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo. “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

    ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

    The Time We Have

    If you have read any of the books or watched any of the movies, you may agree that The Lord of The Rings is a powerful saga. Yes, I said it—saga. Tolkien was masterful with the entirety of the story but what I find wondrous is that all the bits and pieces along the way are full of flavor and are stories in themselves. They are powerful all on their own. 

    The quote above is part of a brief conversation between Gandalf and Frodo. If you haven’t read the books or watched the movies, you may still appreciate its depth as it is rich with meaning whether in or out of the story.

    These fifty-one words are all about humanity’s age old divide between those who seek power and those who seek to live the life they were meant to live.

    The powerful, many times, feed off the destruction of their own making only to disrupt humanity to, well, gain more power. I’m in the camp that power based in love, compaaion and insight lifts humanity.

    Each sentence in this quote is revealing. this is how I look at it.

    Frodo says… I wish it need not have happened in my time

    Although Frodo is a Hobbit, he expresses a very human feeling we all, at some time feel. Every so often this feeling results from a natural phenomenon like an earthquake or a hurricane, but most of the time, it results from man and his intentional actions. War would be a big one as would dehumanizing those who are not like us.

    History is full of men who overreach to claim power and control. By doing so, those who seek to live their lives the best they can and how they see fit are whipped into colossal, turbulent waves. They get caught in the wake of the murky froth of the power-hungry and their dark and self-serving decisions. 

    Humanity and everything about how we live is dualistic. We have good, so there is bad; we have love, so there is hate; we have the rich, so we must have the poor, and so on. Power without love, compasion or insight exists to prey on the weak…the poor…or those deemed as unworthy.

    What is imagined in the mind can become a reality.

    The above neutral statement is easily corrupted when the cunning manipulator is searching for a “treasure” that benefits the few. If only those who sought power also sought good.

    Gandalf follows his statement and says…So do I

    These three words show empathy. The experienced and wise wizard has seen much in his long life, but it is with his experience that his empathy flows naturally. More importantly, it is soothing—it is healing.

    He is reafirming in these three words. He offers, as all good teachers do, a broder view with what he says next.

    …and so do all who live to see such times. 

    We search for answers — for perspective. As long as humans have roamed the planet they have, from time to time, created devatation. The wise teacher reminds young Frodo (and us too) that we are not alone. 

    But Gandalf goes on to say…But that is not for them to decide. 

    When we realize that most of us feel the same way, our imagination, too, may shape what is next. With the hard truth, Gandalf moves Frodo away from taking a turn into self-despair as self-despair is exactly what the powerful want from those they wish to control.

    He helps Frodo to focus when he says,

    …All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.

    When outside forces suffocate us, will we find the spark within us to take charge of our next step…and then the second step… and then…

    Simply, we are not alone. We always have help. We always have hope. And with that, it is us who decide what to do with the time that is given us.

    …you may also like, It’s All Created In the Mind

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

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  • From a Struggling Reader to Writing Fantasy

    Third Grade Me and How I Never Forgot

    E.G. Kardos

    I was a slow reader when I was young. Full disclosure: I’m still a slow reader—no big deal.  But back in third grade and earlier, as a struggling reader, no matter what I did, I could not move up from the “Group 3” readers to Group 2 and certainly not Group 1. For an eight-year-old, that was a very big deal.

    I know many teachers still use reading levels, and this is now under great debate, but it was nothing but a horrible experience for me and was a deterrent to my progress as a reader in many ways—anyway, I am digressing from the start so let me get back to my story.

    As I said, I tried everything to advance to Group 2. Group 1 was my ultimate dream—weird, but that’s how my eight-year-old brain worked.  My mom brought home books, and she would work with me, so I had wonderful support. Though I probably made more strides at home than at school, it just wasn’t enough for the teacher to notice my improvement. I liked reading as I knew, even as a little kid, that I could be a part of an adventure by reading books–and I liked that. But as a slow-reading little kid, this was painful time, but I kept plugging along.

    When I was in third grade the bottom fell out for me.

    I remember that day so clearly. The teacher, who I will only refer to only as Miss Cringeworthy told us, in her usual harsh tone, to open our readers. Our readers were full of forgetful stories that were anything but what third graders may read today: Matilda, Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Captain Underpants, Stuart Little, or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to mention a few..

    The book we read was a collection of archaic and unmemorable stories. What we read was the only part of that day that I can’t fully recall. I just know the stories were NOT interesting. Maybe if they were, I wouldn’t have struggled as much.

    Our desks were arranged in rows. Miss Cringeworthy always started our reading lesson by having the first kid in the first row read the first paragraph. they would be followed by the second kid who would read the second paragraph and so on down the row to start again with row two.

    I was the twelfth kid and near the end of the second row. I looked ahead in the story to find “my paragraph” that I would be reading. Reading it over and over again I hoped I would read it perfectly when it was my turn.

    That was my plan – struggling reader or not!.

    The Worst Silence

    My heart began to beat faster and faster as the eleventh kid was finishing her paragraph. I cleared my throat and I began to read. I thought I was doing fine. But the next thing I heard came from Miss Cringeworthy. At the top of her lungs she bellowed, “STOP!”

    It seemed like the worst silence I have ever experienced, as I felt my heart thump and thought the rest of my classmates could hear the “thump” too.

    From where she was standing at the front of the room, she began to slowly walk down the aisle to where I sat. The only sound in the air was the click-click of her pointy high heels that she stuffed her feet into that morning. Each short step she tookgnawed at me until she stopped and hovered over me. Looking up, her face reminded me of a bowl of quivering Jello and her eyes bulged out. 

    I swallowed and looked right at her.

    “I taught your older sister,” she said softly.

    Pause.

    “And I believe your older brother as well.”

    Another pause that was much too long for any eight-year-old to endure.

    “And you are nothing like them.”

    Still looking at her bulging eyes in a pool of jiggling Jello, I was crushed–I was mortified.

    My eyes welled up and I was ready to bust out and cry. But I don’t know how I did it, but I held it in. 

    But I cried inside. Thankfully the class looked down at their books and said nothing. 

    She click-clicked her way back to the front of the classroom. That was that…until I told my mom…but that is another story.

    Here’s me speaking to a college-level course in 2023 about writing fantasy.

    Photo by Lisa Cipolletti >>

    So…From a Struggling Reader to Writing Fantasy...Years Later

    I never dwelt on this moment but I never forgot it either. Leap forward to 2011. As a lifelong daydreamer and lover of fantasy, I looked back at that moment and decided I wanted to write a story that I would have loved as that kid—and as an adult.

    One that would captivate the reader that was full of mystery, marvel, and magic.

    My story had to be about a young boy who was searching for answers; a story where the mentor was an encouraging guide. I wanted to write about following our heart and our truth. I wrote the first book, The Amulet: Journey to Sirok, of a fantasy trilogy. I called the series The Elias Chronicles.

    Miss Cringeworthy was long gone before I wrote and published Book I of the trilogy, otherwise, I would have delivered her a personally signed copy–with a smile..

    Have you ever had an experience like this one? What did you do about it? Let me know.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Latest Posts

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    Please notify me when you publish a new blog post.

  • Hero’s Journey Monomyth

    A Spiritual Quest & Search for Identity

    E.G. Kardos

    The Hero’s Journey Monomyth is a story structure where the main character, or the hero, reluctantly goes on an adventure from an “ordinary” or everyday world to a “special” or different world.

    “The journey of the hero is about the courage to seek the depths; the image of creative rebirth; the eternal cycle of change within us; the uncanny discovery that the seeker is the mystery which the seeker seeks to know. The hero journey is a symbol that binds, in the

    original sense of the word, two distant ideas, the spiritual quest of the ancients with the modern search for identity, always the one, shape-shifting yet marvelously constant story that we find.”

    ― Joseph Campbell, The Hero’s Journey: Joseph Campbell on His Life and Work.

    The hero must overcome challenges and if successful, they come home a changed person.

    There are typically 12 stages of the Hero’s Journey, but they may vary and differ to some degree. Occasionally they are combined. This manner of storytelling is not just good for plot points in a story but an excellent way to develop characters.

    It blows my mind that humans have used the Hero’s Journey to tell stories for thousands of years and humans have done this in every corner of the globe. How did humans who lived thousands of miles from each other and who were separated by oceans come up with the exact blueprint to tell a story? Could it be that humans are hardwired to tell stories? It shows that deep down, we all think and feel in similar ways. 

    The Hero’s Journey Monomyth overlaps cultures simple as that.

    Some of the earliest recorded myths, legends, and folklore from cultures around the world, date back a few thousand years which suggests that the monomyth has been a part of oral traditions well before Joseph Campbell coined the word in the twentieth century.

    In recent times, books that follow this model include The Alchemist, Jane Eyre, The Fault In Our Stars, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and The Hunger Games to mention a very few. 

    The pattern is not only a format for books, myths, or fables, but the Hero’s Journey is a common model for movies. Star Wars is an example as I understand that Jim Lucas spent time with Joseph Campbell to ensure that the films followed the pattern perfectly. Other movies include the Harry Potter movies (and books) as well as Moana and many animated films such as Lion King. Come to think about it, it is more difficult to find movies that don’t use some version of the Hero’s Journey.

    The Hero’s Journey Monomyth – Here’s a look at how it works:

    These are the most commonly used stages or plot points identified by Joseph Campbell of The Hero’s Journey:

    Departure

    1. The Ordinary World
    2. The Call to Adventure
    3. Refusal of the Call
    4. Meeting the Mentor

    Initiation

    • Crossing the Threshold
    • Tests, Allies, and Enemies
    • Approach to the Inmost Cave
    • The Ordeal

    Return

    • The Reward
    • The Road Back
    • Resurrection
    • Return with the Elixir

    Here’s my take on each of the stages of the Hero’s Journey:

    DEPARTURE

    Ordinary World: One way to look at this stage is ordinary people doing ordinary things in an ordinary life. The “hero” really isn’t a hero just yet but then something falls into their lap—that’s coming up soon, but first, we need to get to know our soon-to-be hero. Sometimes we find out that they are a lot like we are and the more we relate, the better.

    Call to Adventure: As our character goes about their daily business they receive some sort of message, or they stumble onto something, or they find themselves being called to do something unusual. All of sudden things are getting more exciting as the character struggles to make sense of the change they are experiencing. The reader is being pulled in too. 

    Refusal of the Call: In my mind, this is more of how the character reacts to being thrust into a new and scary situation. At this point, the character is reluctant to go further. Many times the character makes excuses for why they need to put blinders on and continue to go about their own business. Don’t we do this when confronted with the unexpected?

    Meeting the Mentor: Business as usual, however, has gotten very complicated for the hero, so they seek out a wise and experienced person for help. They may be a professor, their grandma, or the low achieving high IQ friend. Whoever it is, the mentor gives our character what they need to respond to the “call” with some confidence. Many times we may hear the mentor simply say something like, “Go for it, what do you have to lose?” I usually need to run things by someone I think is smarter and wiser than me.

    INITIATION

    Crossing the Threshold: After some preparation, the hero is ready to go and step into a different world. Many times this is an enchanted world, like when Harry Potter and Ron Weasley run their trolleys into the brick pillar to get aboard the train headed for Hogwarts.

    The hero doesn’t have to be headed to an enchanted world as it could be any major life change for instance something that prompts them to move from the city to the country, the first day at Boot Camp or being “discovered” by a Hollywood agent—that would be pretty cool. The world they are about to enter is far and away different from what they are used to.

    Tests, Allies, and Enemies: The hero finds out pretty quickly who their friends and allies as is the hero is tested along the way. These are not life and death tests, but they can be grueling events giving the hero some pause and regret that they chose to answer the call. Think about the last time you second-guessed a big decision.

    Approach to the Inmost Cave: As the hero gets closer to the most dangerous part of the journey, true and loyal friendships are solidified. The hero knows who to trust as they approach the uncertainty of their calling. Many times, however, the hero is on their own but knows their allies have their back. Now that’s a good feeling.

    The Ordeal: This is the part of the story that we often think is the climax, but it’s not the “real” climax after all. Our hero has much more to do—and prove later in the story. The hero may confront a life-or-death situation, or they may be facing the greatest fear they had in the ordinary and now it appears in this new or special world. They might come face to face with the hideous power that has stalked them throughout the journey. This “hideous power “can be found in other characters as well. It can be found in situations or events too in both real and symbolic ways. 

    As the hero goes toe to toe with the villain, they find out that they are not exactly ready to take on this evil force. This challenge is like no other and the hero plummets to their lowest ebb. Their spirit is broken. Don’t worry, it’s not the end—it’s upward and onward and the hero finds a way to mend their broken spirit. By doing so, our hero is reborn, but that’s coming up.  

    RETURN

    The Reward: The hero now finds that missing piece that could have made the difference earlier in the story when they were crushed by their nemesis. How do they find it? The hero is somehow rewarded with information, a special weapon, or something they previously overlooked—this reward or the “missing piece” will propel them to victory. 

    The reward is not something new to the story, but it has something to do with the story. It could be knowledge, profound insight, a powerful gem, a book, or another object that will be needed as they confront their enemy one more time before heading back to the ordinary world. 

    With the reward, they are now ready to conquer the dark force that had stripped them of their power during the Ordeal. This is the hero’s rebirth and is key as this transforms the hero into a better version of themselves and ready for anything that comes their way. 

    The Road Back: The hero must, once more, approach the Inmost Cave—the most dangerous part of the journey—to face the villain. This time, however, our hero has all they need to accomplish the call. The hero defeats their archenemy and holds in their hand the elusive treasure. Again, this can be something physical like the Holy Grail, or it can be the treasure that the hero has internalized—a superpower, or maybe even knowledge that will create world peace. 

    Resurrection: When the hero is victorious they are symbolically reborn and at that moment the hero emerges transformed. At this point, the hero journeys home to their ordinary world with their treasure. The Resurrection represents the ultimate transformation of the hero both physically and spiritually. 

    Return with the Elixir: Joseph Campbell termed the treasure as the “elixir” where the hero shares his bounty with his ordinary world. They return home but life is now different—it’s better and the hero has been forever changed.

    Here’s a more in-depth look at a story that follows the hero’s journey.

    A Spiritual Quest & Search for Identity

    Whether fiction imitates life or life imitates fiction, I am convinced that we are all seeking the meaning of our own lives. In the stories that were told thousands of years ago or written yesterday, we are trying to make sense of who we are to our core, where we belong in the world, and if our lives make some kind of difference. The hero’s journey is a spiritual quest and our search for identity.

    I love this quote as it sums it up…

    “A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder. Fabulous forces are there encountered, and a decisive victory is won.” Joseph Campbell

    If interested, here’s more on Joseph Campbell from Bill Moyer’s perspective.

    As you read your next book or watch your next movie, think of this pattern. Not all stories have each plot point outlined above. Some may be combined, but generally, the stories we love, follow this pattern.

    About E.G. Kardos

    I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

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  • Magic in a Simple Message

    The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho – a review of sorts

    E.G. Kardos

    Paulo Coelho wrote The Alchemist and published it through a small Brazilian publishing house in 1988. The initial print run produced only 900 copies. Few copies were sold, and Coelho went on to find a larger publisher. The book took off due to word of mouth and Coelho’s innovative approach to marketing. I don’t know the specifics, but in a short time, the world wanted to read the book. It is, indeed a story of magic in a simple message.

    Since he and his book were gaining momentum, HarperCollins became interested in the book and struck a deal with Coelho. They decided to publish the book in 1994. Soon thereafter, it became a global phenomenon and an international bestseller. By some estimates, it has sold nearly 250 million copies and is among the top books ever sold. Incredible!

    What’s it About?

    The Alchemist is a fantasy and adventure quest. Some think of it as a myth or fable. Santiago, a young shepherd boy living in the hills of Andalucia, Spain travels the world for his treasure. He travels to Egypt and encounters the old alchemist. His adventure and specifically what and who Santiago encounters along the way allows him and the reader to grow. We learn the wisdom of listening to our hearts, learning from the omens along our way, about our own “personal legend” and following our dreams.

    If only all of us could listen to the wisdom of our hearts…we may find that our dreams are not so elusive. 

    Masked in Magic

    Coelho’s simplicity of storytelling inspires the reader to search for the wisdom that will lessen the burden of the complexities of life and potentially make our lives a masterpiece. This is why I think the book has found reader after reader for thirty-six years. Coelho’s “truth” gives the story life.

    We all aspire to something greater …

    Santiago’s quest is masked in magic and fantasy but is very much like our daily journey. Coelho uses the format of the “Hero’s Journey” to tell a story that resonates with our human spirit. We all aspire to something greater in our lives, but we may have difficulty getting there. Instead of only envisioning the end, like Santiago we should continue to keep an eye on the road as well. If we do, we may see the potholes or help someone who may need a lift along the way. There are times that we all need that lift… or get the nudge to take that next step. 

    The reason this book rose from humble beginnings is not only because of Coelho’s persistence to create awareness of his work but also because of the magic in a simple message. It is soul-searching and beautiful.

    Have you read The Alchemist? Thoughts? What other books contain magic in a simple message that is meaningful to you?

     “A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

    –Chinese proverb.

    About E.G. KardosI

    am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write.  Here’s more about me and my books.

    Latest Posts

    Most Viewed Posts

    All Posts

    Please notify me when you publish a new blog post.

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