Part three coming soon. (Definite) title reveal even sooner, and cover here (note the title may or may not be final).
Wednesday, 30 December 2015
Sunday, 20 September 2015
Excerpt from "Can I Fly"
Every time I manage to use my powers, nobody looks. They stare through me. But when I fail, they all notice.
“He’s only a young boy,” they say. “Who cares about a novice Potent? We’re god-like compared to him!”
Will they notice me at noon, during my flying ability examination at the Adolescent Trials? I hope so.
I put on my black sky-suit, which will prevent forbidden use of technology during the test. Dad used technology, before he was banished.
Waving goodbye to mother and my infant brother Darik, I take one small step on the long road from breast toward adulthood. A path set from birth for my kind.
Leaving our single roomed cave-hut, I walk along the dusty track to school. Fresh air mixes with pungent fog from the ore-mines. I may require a respirator if it gets much worse. At least I have the luxury of one, unlike the group of mindless human miners that pass me. Their paler skin and lighter eyes is a sign of their lower position in society.
Walking is inefficient. I pity my human cousins for relying on it. I dream of the day I can drift with elegance through clouds, into the starry sky. I wish we were allowed to explore further into the Universe, beyond our Celestial Spheres. But today is a start, today I can show my potential to the teachers, so I may be certified to fly the lower skies unchaperoned.
The fog clears. I arrive at the tall crystalline building which pierces the uneven stony ground, framed by ceremonial fires diffusing spices. My examiners greet me. A group of six teachers from another school, in crisp red judge’s gowns – seasoned warriors passing on their ancient skills, their formality is intimidating, but predictable.
Practice at school and holographic simulations at home as part of my initial training, taught me what to expect. But as I stand on the carved triangular marker, their experienced faces cancel out my confidence and my recollection of how to fly evaporates. After all these years waiting, I am doing this, I have the audience I always craved, but it frightens me.
Distant stringed music, which could sooth under other circumstances, distracts me; I must focus. But the more I try to ignore the gentle tones, the harder they penetrate into my head.
“Ready young one?” a vibrant, dark skinned Potent Lady says.
I nearly jump in shock. This feels rushed now.“Show us you are controlled and capable. Whether you are ready to progress to full training? Now fly!”
Saturday, 1 August 2015
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“Oh heaven forgive us,” I say joining hands with the stranger. My inelegant mind has brought frowns to many a wise teacher this year, so a novice girl like I should be eager to accept any extra help offered, if we are to be ready in time for the coming Game.
Kal is sat next to me on a wooden bench, he looks deep in thought. Candles give little light to our makeshift hut for the night, but enough to highlight this man’s obvious intelligence, evident from his vibrant, tan-brown skin, a sure sign of intellect – a healthy body reflects a healthy mind, quite literally among humankind. Perhaps we have a diluted version of the helices our Scient cousins are blessed with, allowing them the status of extreme beauty and infinite wisdom.
I do love and admire the Scient, with their knowledge of all. Black linen robes frame their formal but kind nature. They are fair rulers, who equate to perfection in my opinion and I can only hope to have a fraction of their wisdom inside the Arena. We mortals adore and obey their infallibility. It is unfortunate I am partaking in one of the few activities in life they and the Tri-gods outlaw on our Sphere.
But my status needs to improve, if these surroundings are a measure of it. The many spiders in here, I suspect may prefer to take their chances with dragon-frogs and the latter with wolf-hogs, than exist in a place like this; cold, damp, but affordable.
Money has been in my thoughts all year, now I am old enough to participate in the Game, and I cannot stop thinking of the forthcoming contest. What will it be like to link minds with our masters watching? Ironic, artificial synapse is illegal the rest of the year.
I wonder what Kal is thinking? He looks calmer than me. Will I meet his standards, given his past successes with better partners in the Game? I had many complaints from previous potential team mates.
As his dark eyes meet mine, his smile fades, does he equate my lighter features to a lack of knowledge?
“Are you ready Amara? This is important, if we fail in this practice it’s like an Arena, we can be hurt or even die.” He looks at the unauthorised synaptic neural link we are about to use.
On the table next to us is the inanimate, dull, metallic object, irregular and unremarkable, but clever in design. I imagine a Scient not a human created it. This experience is vital and despite the potential consequences is worth the risk.
I may be no expert, but I studied hard to prepare for this. He’s simply trying to assert his seniority over me, I think.“I am ready Kal.”
|Kal, Amara and Nazir.|
|A Scient and two mindless humans.|
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