Tag: #YoungAdultFantasy

  • Fantasy Heroes and Their Magical Powers: PART IV

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

    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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