A Little Break

So, I haven't written "The Scroll" for a long time. I'm sorry. I truly am. I had written a piece, but then I thought I put it in my purse when in reality I dropped it to the side of my purse and couldn't find it again. And when I was ready to rewrite it, life got busy.

No, this is not the next section of "The Scroll."

Sometimes, as I'm getting ready for bed, my mind wanders to different stories that are yet to be written. Sometimes I see, feel, hear scenes so vividly that they have to be written down--whether or not I have that capability. This is what happened last night when I was supposed to go to bed. Instead, I stayed up an extra hour and wrote a segment from my "Defenders of Light" series (if all you've read of my work is my blog, you haven't heard of "Defenders of Light" yet). This segment is from the fourth book, which is called "Heart's Magic."

Here is that segment. It starts out in a dream sequence, so if things seem more strange than usual for a fantasy, that's why.

All of them danced around Jeren. Around and around they spun, their faces flashing in the darkness. Mother, Father, Myria, Robert, Nathaniel, little Estona, the mysterious woman. Around and around, hair spinning, smiles mocking, faster and faster. Estona's black hair clung to her face, the woman's wrapped around her waist; Estona's eyes danced gleefully, the woman's eyes gazed watchfully. Black hair. Blue eyes. Pointed ears. Hair, eyes, ears.

Jeren awoke with a wild yell, wrenching up into a sitting position. He clung onto his rough blanket with both hands. "It's her!" he yelled. "The woman's her!"

"Found me out, did you?" the young woman's musical voice fell on Jeren's muddled ears.

Jeren wrenched his eyes open. He was in the forest, as before, but everything was drastically different. Everything from the tallest tree to the smallest blade of grass glowed with an inner light. Even the air seemed to glow with a deep luminescent blue. Shadow and Unket slept soundly, their fur radiating a gentle light. The horse stood nearby, its head bent in slumber.

Taking deep rattling breaths, Jeren turned his head. There she was, her glossy black curls falling to her waist, her deep blue eyes staring into his. The tips of her pointed ears peeked through her hair. She was neither young nor old. She had a young woman's body, but somehow she was still only four years old.

"You can't be her," said Jeren, his voice shaking. He scrambled to his feet. "You aren't her. You're a demon, a Sprite, a wraith, something. You're not my sister."

"Jeren, it's me."

Jeren gazed around him, one hand clenching his tousled hair. "Where am I? What did you do to this place?"

"Everything has a spirit, Jeren," said the woman. "I thought if I showed you how I saw the world, you'd understand better what I need to say."

"Everything's glowing," mumbled Jeren. He looked down at his hands. "I'm glowing. Why am I glowing?"

Jeren stumbled around, gazing at the trees with their vibrant greens and browns, the sleeping flowers with their flourescent pinks and yellows, the air that was too blue. "Why's everything glowing? Why's everything--" He looked up. "The sky's on fire!"

From one end of the sky to the other was an eternal expanse of golden flames flying in ribbons across the sky. As Jeren gazed at the golden fire, he felt his mind expanding. He grew light. If he just kept looking--

"Don't look up!" The young woman's voice broke into Jeren's mind. "Look down! Look at me!"

A strange force, not hands yet seeming like hands, pushed down on Jeren's head. As he looked away from the sky, Jeren became aware of his heart beating and his heavy breathing. He felt heavy, like he'd left himself for a while and only just returned. The woman stood beside him, her hands stretched out near his face.

"Why don't you listen, Stone Ears?" the woman said wistfully. "You nearly died."

The woman walked to Jeren's sleeping pad and sat down, making no impression on the ground as she passed. She patted the ground next to her. Jeren sat down and stared at her for a long time. Finally, he croaked out a single word. "Estona?"

The girl smiled.

A flood of emotions tore through Jeren. He wanted to laugh, cry, yell at the world, curl into a ball and disappear, hold Estona close. Instead, he said in a whisper, "I watched you fall. I heard your neck--I tried to get a Healer, but by the time we got back you were--"

"Dead?" Estona finished.

Jeren swallowed and nodded. "And if you're you, then you should be no higher than my waist, unless you didn't really die, but--"

Estona held out her hand. With his own hand trembling, Jeren reached out. His fingertips brushed against where Estona's hand should be, but he felt nothing but a hint of warm air. His arm went cold, and he pulled back.

"I am dead," said Estona. "I am here in the form I would have reached had I lived."

"Is this magic?" asked Jeren. "Is this my Natural Magic? Father gets premonitions--do I see spirits?"

Estona shook her head. "You have no magic, Jeren. There are things of magic, and there are things of spirit. Though they can interact, one is not the other. I'm letting you see the spirits of the world one time so that I may deliver a message."

Jeren tried to ignore the pit of disappointment that formed in his stomach. No magic in a world of magic? He squared his shoulders. "What's your message?"

"You must go north to the Etros Mountains," sais Estona. "You must find the Elf Kilendil. He will lead you to the sorceror Gartal. You must face Gartal and kill him. Only you can do this."

Jeren's blood froze. "What? I have to kill a sorcerer? Me? I thought you said I have no magic."

"Only you can do this."

"No, I can't," said Jeren. He pushed to his feet. "I have no magic. You said so yourself. Against a sorcerer I'll--"

Suddenly, the world grew dark. Ice began to form on Jeren's body. He heard nothing. He felt nothing except the ice. He couldn't move. Jeren had been in the emptiness of Nospace, where nothing but a soundless wind existed. This was worse.

Estona's voice echoed in Jeren's mind. "This is what the world will become if you fail and Gartal comes to power. It will not start like this, but this is how everything will end. Everything. You say you cannot do this. I say you must."

The world returned--not the glowing world of the spirits, but the starlit and moonlit forest. Jeren shivered violently, his teeth chattering together. He rubbed his arms.

"Repeat to me what you must do," commanded Estona. She glowed faintly in the moonlight.

"G-go north," Jeren stuttered. "Find K-kilendil. Kill Gartal."

Estona nodded sharply. "Good. Now go to sleep. You're going to need it."

Jeren wasn't even aware of his head hitting the pillow.