Not Quite Your Olympics at 10 – Part Two


Not Quite Your Olympic at 10 – Part Two

Who could be more creative than a young boy with a new toboggan and a fast hill?  Us young boys knew the thrill of the ‘perfect run’, getting some ‘air’ at the bottom of the hill over that frozen ridge.  You know the kind of experience if you’ve ever slid down a hard packed snow slope with total abandon.

That same total abandon cost me more than a few scratches from the ever alert pine saplings who didn’t move their branches away from my wild descent.  That and the hard packed mounds of snow that we used to add too much excitement to our next run.

I didn’t think those bumps where that effective at making each run a screaming success until one fateful afternoon when the awful thing happened.

For a little ten year old boy, by himself on a frosty hill, you either own the slope or it owns you.  You have to ‘know’ each bump, each slight change of grade in order to make that next exciting run.

That awful day all of these factors came into play when I was told to do the unimaginable.  I had to take my sister and our two cousins for a ‘nice fun ride’.  As a naughty little boy, full of rascal, little girls were still an alien species, especially when they dared to interfere with, ‘my hill’.

My worse fears became realized when those plucky girls weren’t fazed by my warnings of how dangerous and how fast my hill was.  Nope.  Didn’t seem to matter.  They were there for a ‘nice fun ride’ and that was that.  They sat down in a nice neat row on my toboggan and actually seemed eager for the experience.  I’d show them.  I knew which bumps to hit and how hard.  I had the recollection and bruises to prove it.

Then a miracle of sorts happened on that cold slope.  I didn’t expect anything of this magnitude.  Never even crossed my deceitful mind.  I found out from the very start down that hill.  Girls scream when they’re having fun.  Not a little – but a lot!

Well, this was indeed good news and became an instant game changer.  Now I wanted to give them the full Olympic moment, not for me, of course, but to help them wake up the heavens with delirious screams of joy.

They obliged me with every bump and bit of speed I could produce out of my heavily loaded sled.  I looked back of quick glance to see three sets of hands hanging on for dear life and three sets of wide open mouths of pure screams of joy.

On the long trip back up the hill, I encouraged them to go again, even helping them back up the hill like a human tow rope.  I don’t recollect how many trips we took down that snowy slope, but it didn’t matter for I had my discovery.  After they went back to the house for cold, I took one last victory run – down the slope, over each bump, picked up some ‘air’, passed through the prickly reeds, nothing but frozen pond!

 

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Not Quite Your Olympics at 10 – Part One


 

Not Quite Your Olympics at 10 – Part One

There we stood at the top of our favorite sledding hill.  Three brave young brothers and our trusty spaniel with a brand new 8 ft. toboggan.  We placed it in the snow where it sat in waiting, shiny and new with bright red striping.  Yellow roping wove down each side in an obvious stance, as if waiting for one of us to grab hold and go.

My older brother lifted up the front for a clear look.  “How do you suppose we steer this thing?”

“Dunno,” I replied with just a puzzled of look as he.  “Maybe ya lean to one side?”  None of us had seen a toboggan or ridden the thrill down our snow packed sledding hill.  No.  No.  This would be raw trial and error with an emphasis on raw and error.

Looking back now from my lofty years, we should’ve known that the pine saplings to each side of our best run were waiting for us with stinging whip like branches and solid stumps.  We should’ve known that dragging a foot or arm as we rolled off in fright after the first big bump, would make that demon of the hill veer sharply to one side or the other, usually right at a hungry pine stump or larger pile of snow.

But we didn’t.  We had to learn and so did our toboggan.  By the second afternoon, that bright shiny curved front was missing an edge, victim of a pine sapling attack.  By this time my brothers had wisely found other pursuits that didn’t end up with long scratches and bumped heads.  Not me, for I had discovered ‘AIR’!

I think it happened on the third trip down that late winter afternoon as the sun decided to get out of the cold before I did.  That run went well – too well in fact.  I made it past those nasty pine sentries of the hill, past the end of our other mistakes and hit the ridge at the bottom of the hill at full glorious speed.  I mean, ‘real air’, adrenaline rush and all.  I didn’t land with the toboggan but that part didn’t matter.  I cleared the snow from where it stuffed up under my winter coat and pockets but my smile didn’t come off all the way up that long hill.  Wow!  ‘Real air’!

I get it now in my lofty years, how the Olympic teams hurl themselves into the air with complete abandon just to get that rush one more time, oh, and win a medal for doing so, but I get it.  I get it too, how they have to examine every foot of the run and set a course to optimize their direction for speed and distance.  That was little ten year old me.  I was hooked.  The next runs were all business.  I wanted to refine each move, each lean, each curve and bump, in order to duplicate that magic moment.

I did, several times, enough so that my landing was once again with the toboggan and past that nasty ridge – right into the equally nasty prickly canes by the edge of the pond.  It didn’t matter as I examined the new red marks on my arm.  I’d done the near impossible.  Now I was ready for the Olympic trials – or not!

Us boys had talked at length about how ‘cool’ it might be to sled down our slick sledding hill, over the ridge, through the canes, and find – nothing but pond.  However high our goals might’ve been, our poor smaller sleds weren’t equal to that task.  Our hopes and dreams could now be realized by the new ‘king of the hill’, our still almost shiny new toboggan, minus a few dings and pine scratches.

I don’t know which run became, ’the one’, when us three boys finally crashed through the last remaining prickly canes to slip in wild abandon across the frozen pond.  It was a moment glorious to be sure.  Next of course, we had to repeat our performance until it became too tame.  Indeed, with a fresh blanket of heavy snow, we built up that bottom ridge, and a few others, ‘for effect’, and before you knew it, we had us an Olympic grade downhill run.  Not really of course, but in the minds of us young boys, we knew no other to be finer.

Sitting on that downhill demon knew no greater thrill.  We learned to curve, ’just enough’, to catch each bump without it catching us back in horrid twists of arms and legs on the hard packed surface.  I learned to finish the course on my knees, guiding our trusty toboggan with delicate lean and intricate plan, for now I knew that hill and it was mine.

Then in total loss of mind – I tried standing up.  I still don’t know what lapse of common sense established itself into my mind but when the thought pronounced in herald of adventure, my little ten year old body shrugged and said. “Why Not?”

Those first runs were closed to the public and my memory for the pine sentries laughed time after time as they caught me unaware, probably in some torn attempt to save my life.  The bumps were the worst.  As much as I tried to stand a little more sideways and lock a toe or toe into the strained yellow rope, I pitched time and again one way while that big sled laughed as it sailed in perfect degree down the slope, through the canes and out on the pond, shaking in wild fits of laughter.

No smile here as I sat in derision on the banks of the pond, holding my stinging arm close to my body.  This mean’t a war of sorts, man against hill, or in my case, wild boy against all of nature, for now a cold wind set in across the slope and sitting on a cold slope after working up a sweat was not the best place to tarry.  I was too tired and too cross to notice how my mom, bless her, looked at my near frozen features as I kicked off my boots and slumped into a chair, not heeding the danger of my exposed arm.  “Where did you get those deep scratches?”  Too late!  I shrugged, knowing of the near mortal danger I knew was coming.  What had I been thinking, to come into the house in front of her with obvious scratched arms.  Not wanting to stay for more torture, I tried to slide off the chair and downstairs, where maybe I could elude her, but…

“Sit down!”  the command came as I swallowed hard and bit my lip.  Right there in her hand was the evil little bottle.  Little boys of those days and times know the one.  It was a dark stained sort of orange brown color and had a little squeeze top for moms to use in application.  To my horror, she already had the top loosened and had my arm in her vise like grip.

No!  No! I cried and wrestled in vain attempt to get away but in three quick stripes, she laid that Iodine across my wounds, then reached for my shirt and in one deft move, laid bare the long curves scratches on my side.  Images of those wicked pine saplings raced through my mind as torment coursed across those red scratches.  Mom stood back and replaced the top of the awful bottle.

“There.  You’ll live, you know.  Stop your blubbering.  Now!”

My only thought was getting back to ‘my slope’ and finding some ‘air’ of relief.

 

 

Stay tuned for part two – where I came face to face with my worst enemies as a little boy.  Two little girl cousins and my little sister.  See more writing like this at, http://fictionbypalmer.me.    

Where Love finds a Way – Part Two


Where Love Finds a Way – Part Two

How then would Orm and Song share their love with others who feel of same joining?  Follow Roth and Heen as they establish love of first, then to others as shown in Chronicles of Orm, book one, Legend of Cre – lo – Way, available in experimental form on Amazon.com.

 

 

He shook his head again and forced smile back.  “But first of all, village must gather of joy, for today words will be spoken over you, that your union might be commenced for new to begin among us.  He glanced from Roth to Heen, but stopped in assay as he looked full upon his love with equal meaning…

Song blushed full in receiving his look, but shrank not back or looked away, but instead lifted her chin of confidence in his love, returning same for him.

Tile began merry tunes of song and dance, setting tone of celebration of times of new.  Heen picked up edge of her skirt, swishing to one side of Roth, then of other as he laughed in merry answer.  Letting his hand join hers, they wheeled in accord of music of tile.  Song stepped of Orm, letting serious ask enter her eyes for him.  Orm smiled with twinkle of merry filling his eyes as he let laughter match that of Roth.  He let his hands also match that of Song as he whisking her away in follow of step of dance.  Other men and women of village joined as festival of vow of new life became them…

Tile at Orm Way and Cre Point announced of same, sending gatherers in quick scurry to put away that of work, to become blessed in dance to festival of vow of new life.  Many a young man met with question of look from young lady as dance and tunes bore full effect of love upon those who danced.

None knew that press of time forced Word of Way to stir young hearts to love.  Rather, young couples twirled away from main dance, letting touch of hand and beating of heart explain full upon them as eyes of lady filled with that which Song told to Orm in first rush of embrace. Each twirling couple marked passing of each village from way of old of survival to that which festival of vow of new life proclaimed among them…

Orm chuckled as wave of new passed from Word of Life through each one, setting stage for Orm to declare for Roth and Heen.

He raised his hands for announce of Word to begin.

All of nature stopped of degree of turning, to watch of glad receiving.

Dancers held each other of close, letting glad breath and smile of joining seem as one with them.  Orm needed to wait as excited jubilee wanted for continue, as pounding hearts and hold of hand didn’t want to let recede know them.

Tone of tile changed to twinkling of assent of love for Roth and Heen who stood together in front of Orm for all to see of witness.

“Here is life begun in all of us.  To find love in each other of continue, that fullness of life might know you to fill and dwell where none dwelt before.”

He looked full at Heen, then back to Roth.  “Roth?  Are you in willing spirit to take Heen in vow of new life?  To look for her smile at each arrival, knowing her love for you?”

Roth suddenly choked in gladness of expression, bringing murmur of laugh in merry at occasion.  Orm let laugh also fill him, joining in glad array as he knew for Roth.

Roth stood tall for Heen, placing his hand over hers.  “Yes!  This and more I pledge.  Willing am I to give myself for her, knowing more of same of return.  I will guard that which is new in us, teaching Light of Life to all for understanding.  May this day stand as marker for us!”

Orm turned to Heen, who could barely keep her countenance in upward bearing for words.  “Heen?  You know of declare of Roth for you, how he knows Word of Way for you.  Do you in turn declare for him only?  That Way of new life be known in you willing of spirit to bear?  Will you also look for his smile at each arrival, knowing his love for you?”

Heen burst full out in tears of love for Roth, matched in flow by those ladies around her.

She nodded her head for affirm and stuttered her approval, wiping tears of glad away for need of continue.  “Yes!  With all of my heart will I accept him, knowing more of same of return.  I too, will guard that which is new in us, teaching Light of Life to all for understanding.  May this day stand as marker for us!”

Orm smiled in choke, not daring to look at Song for continue stood of must for him.  “Let this day be as marker for remembrance of way of new life among us.  May those who are in finding of love as these, announce as this day.  Mark it upon your hearts all you of witness, for bearing of new life is for all of us to support in word and deed.  Take this task upon you for serious, that blessing of new life may burst full among you!”

He looked over at Song with wink of final, who stepped of rush toward Heen with other ladies.  Burst of laughter of glad swept over assembly, letting couples twirl again in fullness of swelling.

Song stepped away as Song of degree overcame her to pronounce.  Stepping up on lo, she circled in happy wave as Song flowed of ancient word at first, letting ancient times add blessing as times of old sought to do.  Finally lip turned for Word of purpose.

Tile turned note to match for her, causing all to pause in her turn for declare.

–Orchestration starts symphony of love–

“Oh – oh – oh – aye.

We are gathered here this day

To celebrate both near and fair

These lives to hold and share

Oh – oh – oh – aye

So let love bring forth what it may

For way of new life to have say

We declare it for marker this day…

Oh – oh – oh – aye…”

–Orchestration continues in long play as sweep of light marches around those of wed—

 

You’ve noticed then, how love finds a way in this world, even though times are stiff with danger.  What then of those others who know that same press of time swirling around them, yet…  They also know the length of stay from one soft hand to another, the shielded blush of warmth to one another as liquid pools of love stare in overcoming fascination.  What then of these and more as Legend of Cre – lo – Way turns from fighting against the halls of sorrow to that of spring of new life and light among them?

Find out in Love finds a Way – Part Three

 

 

Find more stories like this at http://fictionbypalmer.me.

Look of Love from Another World – Part One


Look of Love from Another World – Part One

‘Once upon a time’ tells of ballads of fine times.  Times of pushing man to the farthest reaches of the universe of that telling.  Adventure waits those who turn page, knowing of tell of fine pitch of battle or chase of evil intent.  But what of glamour of chase of boy of girl and girl of boy in return.  Is there no room in these pages for that of tender look and deft hold of hand?  Our previous stories told ballad of the Forest of Quinn in four parts.  Imagery let us see how earth, sea, and sky stood with men of Light to repel those forces of Tor del’ Gulle, that wanted of desperate fashion to close away any part of Light forever from that world.

Yet…  Does love sing of soft refrain?  Does spring of new love hold where all else fails?  In the world of Cre – lo Way and Song, they are met with their own love of first, then of Roth and Heen, then in three of Cre Point who stagger as love binds them together.  These shout of full anthem with all of nature that – Yes!  Love is indeed here and stands of equal place among that of battle and high adventure.

Turn a quiet ear with me.  Hold of discerning eye and mind as first looks of love grasp the hearts of those which Word foretold of long tell ago.  None other than Cre – lo – Way as the man Orm, with Song, who sings her way into his heart, along with her pretty lip, deft of hand, and liquid dark brown eyes for him.

Man stood in wonder as all of nature sang of the richness of her glory due, wondering of place and time, looking from one to another of question, knowing lo of right and know, except Song…

Song bowed her head of tribute, knowing of the Truth within her, kneeling first as tile glowed around her, then letting her body fall full of tile.  She seemed to become one in knowledge of times with tile so bright did tile circle around her, filling her mind and spirit for those things of Orm set before her.

Tears of her love flowed, caught of tile, carried in flickering blue as blessing to others, adding blessing upon blessing of lo, maturing thought for man to catch of time.

Song knew her answer as she picked herself up from tile.  “Yes, my part is plain before me.  Indeed will I go to him with gladness of heart, to set Song in place with new things in tribute of what is to be…  Of man for woman and woman for man…”

She stepped on lo in promptness of purpose, nodding to Firenna and Burenna, who stood by her in question.  “My time is here, to answer to Orm, to fill that place set for me before time of man.”  She glanced her toe along glowing tile.  “Lo gave place of honor for me.  A place such as never before set for woman plain as I…”

She let them see her tears of delight of love for Orm.  “I’ll go of lo for him.  May time do well for us as we set mission ahead for man to know.”  Her eyes suddenly flared as Word held her, filling her lips as Word of knowledge leapt from her.  “…with message for you both to perform.  Seek those whom lo has found among new and old.  Those whose spirit seeks higher knowledge of ancient script.  These will be the first of many for our new mission to fulfill, to enter his Way with gladness.  To step aside from life as this in order to learn a better Way in order to become shepherds for His cause…”

Song stumbled in release of Word, letting her knee buckle from the weight of her message.  Firenna and Burenna gasped in delight of her placement upon them, finding tile dance merrily around them in joy of giving new message.  Others of courtyard looked to them in wonder as Song lifted of lo above them in readiness of course.

Song waved in ready reply to shouts of acclaim as she circled once of lo, then straightened her shoulders for her journey of lo for Orm, letting that of below drain from her, filling her heart and mind instead with thought of Orm.  She leaned forward of lo, sending speed of passion to meet her love, letting refrain pass from her to delight land below of her passing.

Wind carried before her in shrieking gale, first of high, then return to low, placing processional of chorus before her.

Tile rippled welcome of columns of peach bands in rich display of her as tone strengthened in processional of wedding day.

–Orchestration swells at her appearance and continues–

As Light fills me to share with all,

May willing heart reach for my love,

Putting our love into his hands,

To return stronger to me from above.

Oh  -  an  -  oh  -  an  -  oh  -  to be done in me…

Do they know who is passing?

Those who stagger below under heavy load?

Do they fathom His depth of love

Given that others might know

Oh beautiful Light, both joy and stern

Will they ever seek His Light to learn?”

–Orchestration weaves with her of high and low–

She curved back and forth, letting space and time of passing avail her of look over land.  Where are those we seek to save?  Does dark reach hold them prisoner, hidden as gems for its dark work?  Or…  does help seek those through lo of Way, offering glimmer of hope to those who stray?

Song circled once around Orm Place, too overcome of awe for lo of Way’ creation to let note form on pretty lip…

Not so with bugle of tile, announcing bride of Orm, that all of nature might stir and shout.  Tile erupted again in peach color display of her, mingling promise of fruit of peach alongside his ruby and emerald look.

Lo let nature ring as symphony of bells, ringing in delight across all of land, each leaf and curl of vine gave herald in release of energy of praise.  Animal, bird, and insect added measure of note to crescendo until anthem of praise proceeded her first step on tile.

Orm stood of Light before her, reaching hand of husband to be for bride.  “Before all of nature of lo of Way, will you become bride for me?  I may ask before none higher than these?  For my part…”  He hesitated as all of nature held silent before them. “For my part, I do take thee for my bride, knowing your love as no other, until parting of sorrow separates us.”

Song blushed as nature of lo held breath for her answer…

Silence reigned in respect for these two to step forward in announce of vow as Way of future of man.

Orm took her hand in his arm as flower and bird hastened to open line of processional to edge of pool of river where bark of boat awaited their journey.

Her liquid pool of eyes met his as she nodded her answer.  “Yes!  With all of my being I answer yes!  For Way knows my heart, how there is no other for me and of me.  She flung her arms around his neck, reaching for his lips.

Tile blew of anthem of award of praise, sending showers of peach, emerald, and ruby light in rainbow of effect over them, while birds sang of chorus and flower increased fragrance at each step.

In solemn movement, Orm reached down to mound of precious anointing before them.  He picked up her ring, cast by lo of peach gold, ruby, and emerald, and slid it onto her ring finger.

In return of solemn move, she took identical ring for him, shining for moment, and slid it onto his ring finger.

Nature held silent before these still, holding honor from depths of earth and sea to height of open sky.

Orm drank in her love, finally able of willing to find kiss of pretty lip of long hold, letting his love for her fill her to full of strength.

They turned of both step together, setting foot down into bark, setting down as current of lo moved them to stream under waterfall, shutting display of tile to muted flashes behind water.

Song looked about her as bark passed in opening of water for them, not letting drop of mist hinder passing.  She smiled at the effect in her heart, turning to find his love waiting…

–Tile became of muted orchestration for them, funneled in various openings as they passed–

(Song)         Should we be afraid

Will light fail around us?

Do you know Way or…

Will we become lost forever?”

Orm smiled as he brushed her light brown curls with another kiss.

(Orm)          “Rest here for time with me

Let those thoughts put to rest

For we stray within lo of Way

To barely hush to sing of say—

–pause–

For true love to live forever in us!  (together)

(Song)         Do you know how my eyes light when you enter my room

How my heart quickens of love, oh, my groom?

For you are my strength for life evermore

My wonder of man, to kiss, to love from here to distant shore.

Orm smiled again in kiss of her pretty lip, pausing for answer

(Orm)          See, how you’ve captured my heart

How I stir of glad receipt when you touch my hand

For my delight of your beauty knows no bound of eye

So you have me, my heart, my hands, my eyes, my all…

–pause–

For true love to live forever in us…”   (together)

Orm and Song start anew where men and women of light left off a thousand years previous.  But what of Roth and Heen?  What of the many others whom lo has touched of ready, to continue in the steps of announce of Cre – lo – Way.  Find out in our next edition –Part Two.  Where Love Finds a Way!

 

Find more stories like this at http://fictionbypalmer.me.

What happens When the Trees Fight Back? – Part four


What Happens When the Trees Fight Back? – Part Four
Gone! Song is far removed from the battlefield, her sacrifice still of obvious dent to all those who stood of awe below. Gone were the last elements of those fierce brigades of flying teeth on the wing, which for years held dread of man and Forest of Quinn. Gone too, was Cre – lo – Way, tucked away safe with his love, Song, under the woven branches of the Forest of Quinn. No man or beast dare approach within miles of this predatory moment as the weeping Forest of Quinn takes care of its own.
But what of our battle? The forces of evil know the queen is gone! Gone at last with her preventive force, sealing them a step away from victory. How do the forces of light stand in strength when their queen is gone. The image of her falling in rolling measure across their vision, openly bleeding her life away in a screaming rotation of fall, plants in each warrior. How then does it all end? Check it out below or get the entire novel, Chronicles of Orm, book one, Legend of Cre – lo – Way, at Amazon.com.
Cre – lo – Way turned his thoughts to that of Song. Setting course of lo, he leaned for hurry to his love once again, letting Cre flow away from him, delighted to arrive to her open arms of love as Orm.
Forest of Quinn opened before him, letting flurry of battle look ease away and let newness of sweet blossom know each branch.
Orm eased tired feet into healing water next to her.
Song leaned into his look for worry for him, taking his hand to her cheek for concern.
Orm sighed of deep content, letting wash of Spirit of Healing course through him. He let her caress of love renew attitude in him from turmoil of fight to focus instead on her sweet liveliness. He reached again to kiss her pretty lips as on a certain day of first, now long ago.
Looking to her shoulders and back, he expected to find wrath of scar. Instead he smiled of nod of appreciation.
Song smiled back in nod. “Healing of waters of Forest of Quinn accomplished that upon me, sending scar of beast to naught, but instead knew my heart with blessing. Now instead of cruel scar, I wear decorative row of finely stitched peach petals. In this manner, all may know that intent of dark reach is overcome of Love of Light and Way of Truth of Life.”
Orm let shake of tears know him as beauty once again reigned beside him.
All of land shared his moment of filling of gladness and held all motion for him of tribute.
Sea again let its endless rollers find an end, smoothing out to Peaceful Rest.
Wind held its ceaseless roaming, letting Peace reign in heavens above them.
All of nature held silent, even to popping of new blossom and stir of wing of tiny insect.
Mankind felt of hush and nodded with those who knew, for Right set about to reset time of man for good rather than evil.
Song felt stirring of song within her, as did Orm. As one, they stood away from healing waters of Forest of Quinn, letting lo stir under them in happiness of lift of guide.
In wide slow circles they turned from Forest of Quinn which waved of many blossomed branches for them of tribute, letting depth of sweet scent cover their leave of travel.
Song let throat start as Word of Life filled her.
“Oh – oh – and –aye again
We fly together as loves first stand
Let world know of Life and Way
How Light is overcome to stay!”
Orm laughed in merry humor, catching her Spirit of delight of Song.
“Oh – oh – and – aye again
Indeed is Love of Life here to span
All of creation in sweetness of open hand
Let men know of gift from Light
And turn to Way with all of might.
She leaned into him and he into her as lo knew his heart and changed direction of course to that of Peace and Rest under waterfall of Cre Place.
Together they murmured of sweet delight.
“How can we be certain
How can we know of Way
When will answer be open
And our lips hold note of say
For onward we ride to adventure learn
Together in lift of Light of know
To share message wherever we go
Orm turned in final circle before Cre Place, careful to carry his love in arms of delight as lo set them down in gladness of bringing.
Tile sent arching salute of peach color for her and crimson and green for him, letting salute ring forth in volume of crescendo, rising over land and sea, until all of this earth knew beyond any shadow of doubt, that love rests eternal where love is shared in woman and man…

Check out more examples of Imagery at fictionbypalmer.me. And stay tuned. Book two – Of Birth and Rejection is well on the way. Hmmm, Song finds her everyday activities suddenly halted by nausea. All of nature holds still for an announcement, yet…

What Happens When the Trees Fight Back? – Part Three


What Happens When the Trees Fight Back? – Part Three

Have you ever set a trap?  A ruse so complete in its device that your enemy has to flow into it in compulsion of lust?  Imagine then a battle spread out in the broad plain below.  Terrifying monsters, bold of attack and fierce in battle rushed to that first attack.  As many as jumped in first attack in order to annihilate the forces of light which paraded in full strength of their own, they fell back of gaping wound or flung in deaths last gasp.

Those warriors of light were valiant men of former haggard concern, saved by the forces of ancient design for this moment in time.  These numbers as many as the forces of evil, making this a battle of many days.

The battle ling surged back and forth those first two long days.  Even the counter ruse of evil, to send its hideous warriors of the night upon the tired lines of light, failed as never before as Light sprang up in their face of defeat.

The third day would tell this story for all knew the battle would fall one way or the other for weight of arms or lure of deception.  That day began as the others, with the forces of evil mounting fierce charge.  Their horrid beasts of the air surged as one to overcome for those below.  These hideous beasts met their match in from the singing arrows of the Forest of Quinn and in close combat, the piercing agony of hand thrown arrowheads from the fingers of Song and her escort.  That was enough to break the aerial attack of the evil ones.  But the prophecy of a great one falling in battle was still to be fulfilled.  Who would be the one, the chosen one to fall so the others might live…

Song knew her part and set her course to meet her destiny high above and to the north of the battlefield, luring a few at first, then in growing numbers all those wicked beasts who might conquer her in battle.

Earth knew its part, setting boulder and crevasse to the north so men of evil could not pass.  Sea followed of perfect harmony of motion, reversing currents and great waves of pounding lest any ship of evil purpose choose to veer toward the north.  Wind held of quiet moment of first, settling fog of war in dense accumulation where trap was set, lest any flying beast scream of warning before it was far too late of turning away.

Song held her course as earth, sea, and sky dealt their blows of ruse.  Then in brave attendance she allowed her flight to veer in sudden change to…

Pick up our story here, from Chronicles of Orm, book one, Legend of Cre – lo – Way, available in experimental form at Amazon.com

Still forces came in weight, letting battle come to point of crescendo by late afternoon.  Song led her escort in diving attacks, driving home lethal blows from singing arrows of Forest of Quinn from close range.  Seeing point of resistance welling up to her, Song felt her hand stretch back and fling five lethal arrowheads into point of formation.  That formation folded in spray of death, letting gap open in ranks of dark reach for first time in center.

Her escort dove with her, doing as same with singing arrows of Forest of Quinn  and from here and again there, savage bursts of arrowheads from their fingers, driving lead point of enemy back in disarray.

More troops assailed that point from both sides, hurling together in mad frenzy, bringing heat of battle to its height of conflict.

Flights of Hankuim showed up in lethal charge, circling first of height, then plunging down to fling death upon those of reach.

Song gathered her escort to circle back to height to prevent more of these.

She bowed her head as her time approached, knowing it was for these below that she did so.  More Hankuim and Topeek recognized her move with her escort, now low on arrows and shed of points of fingers.

In spiraling show of intricate flying, they used their numbers to push her escort into tighter curves, knowing that although each singing arrow of Forest of Quinn brought down one of their number, more joined in hot pursuit.

Song circled of purpose, drawing these away toward north of main battle.

Wind knew her time, laying rolling clouds of cover under those who flew together of great rage.  Song glanced down to see wind accomplish its part and knew moment stood for her…

Time seemed to hang still as hundreds of soldiers gasped to watch.  Tor del’ Gulle swung his mount to one side as he gained sight of advantage to her flight.

Cre – lo – Way flew of lo down into that tumbling blend of low clouds, ready for his part of ruse.

Hankuim felt time as well, diving in mad rush to see who could score mark of death upon one of these riders of Forest of Quinn of first.

Song let her bow down, having run out of arrows and finger blades.  As next Hankuim reached for her, she let lo bump her up into reach of claws, which tore through her light armor and broke into her shoulders across her back.  Lo let her go of freefall as its part of ruse.

Scream of shock of pain sounded from her, louder than her Song, casting from her to sound as bugle of defeat across battlefield.

All of lo held still as her scream echoed across land of battle and beyond, letting all know of her courage before dark reach.

Song tumbled as limp form from on high, careful to move in roll toward north, where all of battle could see.

Her escort wailed of mourn for her as their part, diving in thick formation over her so no other injury might strike.

Hankuim and Topeek all screamed of victory over hate of Cre – lo – Way and queen of Forest of Quinn.  Rapid wing beats proved each one to be next to finish her off.

She continued to plummet as limp form, letting obvious wound across her back and shoulders show plain to all.

Men of dark reach screamed of victory of charge as those men of Light fell back in moan over their loss, leading those of dark reach to spread out in chase of victory.

Tor del’ Gulle gleaned as much in quick survey and plunged ahead to lead final charge of break in lines of men of Light.

Those Tricophee still of fighting strength bounded forward for same.

Song continued her plummet of death roll, leading all Hankuim and Topeek toward north in blind race of final plunge.

As leading Hankuim were about to break through her escort to one side, wind blew of hard into cloud bank, letting that disperse in seconds.

Song shouted of glad as separated clouds reveled her fall to be into center of Forest of Quinn, hidden until now to flights of beasts.

Those beasts reared back and away in frantic clawing of air for break and run.

Forest of Quinn had waited for centuries for opportunity as such.  With deafening rattle, hundreds of lethal arrows shot up, careful to avoid tumbling form of Song.  Each beast became shuddering weight of broken flight as arrow after arrow pushed each to final roll of death.  Not one found enough turn to avoid that deadly flight from below.  Not one found recovery of blast of singing arrows of Quinn to escape.  Not one…

Cre – lo – Way smiled as he waited above Forest of Quinn, directly below her fall.  With loving arms he rose to catch her in arms of love, murmuring his care for her.  He carried her down in slow circles of great care to healing waters of Forest of Quinn.  Long branches held back and away in honor for him to lower her limp form into pool of healing.

Forest of Quinn held her with weeping care, spreading tight weave of branches above those two, taking great care of intricate weave for her safety.

Healing water surged in tribute of healing, taking that burn of pain away and reviving her form.

What tribute would Forest of Quinn impart upon their queen that would do her justice for her deed of grand design?  In her plight of ruse, she’d led the balance of those horrible beasts within range of their singing arrows of the Forest of Quinn.  Stories of how hundreds of arrows leapt from ancient force of root to destroy at last that which plagued forest for a thousand years will be told and retold for generations.  Indeed, it would take dark reach two decades to begin to replace the numbers of those beasts that fell in one moment for following the ruse of the queen of the Forest of Quinn.

Tribune was well given that next day, as Song emerged to find a victorious field of battle for the forces of light.  What tribute was that that pronounced upon Song?  That and more is revealed at last in Part Four.

Contact Fictionbypalmer@gmail.com with your questions and comments.

What Happens When the Trees Fight Back? Part Two


What Happens When the Trees Fight Back?  Part Two

Part One displayed the fear of death of all who entered the Forest of
Quinn.  For good reason for if one would dare to venture within range of its much heralded branches, you would be met with a lethal barrage of arrows.  How then could Cre – lo – Way and Song, along with her escorts not only step up close, but be welcomed and able to walk at will among those ancient roots.  This and more as those singing arrows of the Forest of Quinn are used in battle.  What happens when the horrid beasts of prey of Tor del’ Gulle try to kill the hosts of light?  Do you know?  Grab you light throw and settle back, for this is easy reading for delight of all who enter Forest of Quinn with us.

Song knew her part, though none of these spoke before her.  She led speed of assault upon remaining Hankuim until her estimate of range knew her.  Setting finger to arrow, she let quickness of eye of mind set her point and let loose first singing arrow of Quinn in over one thousand years of wait.  Bow sang of potent release, casting singing arrow of forth to destroy.  Arrow launched of song of death, vibrating in pickup of speed until it hit next Hankuim with such destructive force as to move it sideways of flight, exploding from gaping wound and shriek of death.

Song looked at her hands for explain.  For I barely had of strength to pull bow, yet speed increased from release.  How can such go from within me?

Her ladies of singing arrows of Quinn knew point of attack from her example.  Quickly, seven more shafts sang in spirited flight to exact death upon four more Hankuim and three Topeek, whose high pitched shrieks carried far back into land, causing many of dark reach cause for dismay.

Elif pointed for Semm of 10th and Ret’ leif of 14th.  “Go, for these last two are appointed for you!”  Needing no urge of more they leaned forward of lo for catch, feeling wrath of Light become them.  Hankuim knew as such and turned of flight and wild beating of wings, letting power strokes aid in flee.  Semm of 10th swerved in follow of Hankuim, setting his hand for Light to bear as never before from him.  Flash grasped hold from him, stirring from his hand in splintering array around and through flight of beast, sending it in stone cold stun of death to waiting sea.

Ret’ leif curved as did last Hankuim, which wanted to draw him away from shrieking Topeek.  His hand came up with flash as same, spilling fragments of daggers of light around and through beast of air, which also fell of cold stone of stun of death to waiting sea.

Ladies of singing arrows of Quinn drew away from battle in pursuit of squawking youth, letting those who didn’t lose arrow of first, learn of wonder for each.  Four more singing arrows of Quinn shot in haste of flight, impacting in Topeek with force enough to splinter four beasts from end to end, which twirled down of gaping wound for sea to again catch to never more roam earth for prey.

Those few Topeek in remain fled for low flight of escape, letting fear of Light and singing arrows of Quinn aid their speed back to dark reach.

Song circled lo to adjust her search just above waves of sea, dipping her hand in question.  Something remains to do…  Something I must see to amend, but what is it?  Images of battle flashed through her mind, of monstrous beasts being slammed sideways in midair by ferocity of impact by her singing arrows of Quinn.  She snapped awake, her lips moving to sea.  “That’s it!  Those beautiful shattered arrows!”

Other ladies of singing arrows of Quinn dipped down next to her for concern, for this action by Song caught them off guard.  They followed her lead, holding still of lo just above wave of sea in waiting…

Song dipped her hand again to sea thinking of heroic broken shafts of Quinn.  “We must pay tribute of honor for those who are fallen…”

Sea current obliged her fancy, letting her call search rock of sea and floating abandon, peeling away firm of beast to carry every fiber of shaft to Song of first, then to each lady of singing arrows of Quinn in respect to that which flew from each during battle.

Song picked up sodden pieces from sea with respect in bow of head and tremble of her nimble fingers.  She looked up in question to those around her.  “Come!  We must give honor to whom honor is due.  Take that which current brings and follow me.”

Cre – lo – Way learned of her plan through wind of sea, which hushed around him for mystery of message.  Cre lowered his head of respect.  “What Song is about to present has never before been accomplished in our history…  How will Forest of Quinn react?”

Nature gasped of pleasure of honor as plan revealed through Way of Word as Song and her escorts approached Forest of Quinn.

Tile flashed brilliant strobes of peach colored salute in honor of Song, ringing bells of herald of her.

Forest of Quinn trembled of warning of approach of riders, then changed tremble to glad tidings as Song became plain to them through voice of Song…

“Oh – oh – oh – aye

In tribute here we pay

In return for that you richly gave

May this day mark time in Word

Beyond our borders until all are heard

What you gave ‘er battles plight

To help us overcome in fight

In salute we wish to tell

Hold that of great reward

Until all know of equal accord…”

Forest of Quinn waved lethal shafts of arrows upright in waves of passion for Song as she stepped among them, followed by her escort.  Branches bowed at her step, sweeping ground in rattle of dance not performed before human for generations.  Thousands of branches rattled in sequence of motion, spanking hard of ground of deafening begin of chant.  Branches gathered of spring to sweep up in fanfare of care to open again to wind and sky, hanging there of spread of care for her.  Motion hung still until branches plunged in echoing brilliance of sequence until performed for each of Song and her escorts, as if chanting majesty of moment for all of world to hear.

Ancient root pulled back as Song and her ladies approached center of forest, where healing waters flowed in plenty, gurgling in abandon through centuries of roots.  Old roots groaned of moving, taking their ancient roots away from center so lo could raise mound of soft moss covered rock for tribute.

Song took care lest a single fiber might spill out of place.  She placed shattered arrow of first draw onto wide mound of purpose, then started to pull away only to step back again to place her hand over remnants.  She bowed her head as tears of gratitude fell on mound.

Oldest root of Forest of Quinn sent new shoot in rapid habit of growth, curling up side of mound and over to touch her hand of answer.  Growing tip of branch curled around her hand and arm, winding its point to her shoulder as she held of still of reverence of ancient forest root.  Tip of root swept her cheek of next tear and next until her tears stopped of her and gladness overcame grief of passing.

She nodded as enough knew her, breaking stern look to that of happiness, letting vine of growth unwrap from her to turn in growth to that of knit.  Growing tip weaved of dance of knit forming arch of triumph over that which lay forever of rest on mound in center of Forest of Quinn.

Root stirred of again, sending new shoots of different of appearance to Song and other ladies.  Song felt stirring within her as new vine wrapped around her fingers in tight regard, squeezing as if imparting life of root to her.  Ladies bowed as tightness gathered to each caused hand to gasp for strength of grasp of it.

Song opened her eyes as gift of Forest of Quinn knew her fingers.  Each lady gasped as same came upon them, knowing at once of imparting of gift to fingers of blessed hands.

Growing points unwrapped of tight grasp, letting Song and other to marvel at imprint of point of arrowhead on each fingernail.  Song smiled as branches pulled away for one last crescendo of rattle of branches of Quinn.  Gathering in mighty heaves they smacked ground of rattle after rattle lest anyone person of world not yet know of deed done to these.  In gathering together, branches swept up again to open in full spread to sky in full majesty of Forest of Quinn.

Song bowed of curtsey to those ancient roots, followed one by one of her escort, then stepped again of lo, to turn in circles of flight over Forest of Quinn which stood still in flush of award for them as they flew away.

Cre – lo – Way waited for them in high perch above, observing all Forest of Quinn did for her and others, also as overwatch of ceremony lest dark reach choose that time with task to spoil all among them.

Song found her heart leap in flutter for her love as she held out her hands for him to see.  He held hands of hers in respect, reaching them to his lips for kiss of confirm from Cre – lo – Way upon her.  “What is given to you is of first to mankind from Forest of Quinn.  Truly great value is imparted with touch.”  He pulled her fingers closer for look.  His eyes widened at his appraisal.  “Indeed, has Forest of Quinn become one with you and you with forest.  See?”  He gently turned her hand so she could see her fingernails turning to sharp dart of arrowhead of Forest of Quinn.  “It seems as if you are now joined forever with ancient roots.  Wonder what these will be capable of, don’t you?”

Song nodded as she felt fingernails hardening of rapid growth to hard tip.  “Hmmm.  I shall have to be careful with these, lest puncture happen to those around me in accident.

Others of her escort gasped as same became to them.

Song smiled of craftiness.  “I know of purpose for it is given me to know of ancient root.  From now on we have second line of weaponry to use to accompany us in battle against dark reach.  To throw in hurl of death when battle presses in close stance upon us.  These…”  She lifted her fingers to show others.  They lifted their hands and fingers to her in answer.  “These will be known to those who seek us out to destroy, who gather against us in thick rush to overcome our defense.  Now those who try will find multitude of sharp point hurling them back in throw of death…”  She curled her fingers back down and bowed her head.  “For gift it is from forest below, never to be used of proud jest or jealous regard, but to employ in battle of dark reach.”

Did you check your fingernails?  Do you want to ride with song and her escorts into the next battle with the courtyards blazing brilliant colors ahead and around you?  Ride with song and her escort in battle anew but in careful watch – for one must fall…

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