Time to Think, A Boat Adrift & Through The Portal (Lyr #52, #53 & #54)

What follows is Part 52, 53 & 54 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


Time to Think (Lyr #52)

I’m not ashamed to say I felt the prickling of fear invade my heart, if only for a moment. Everything was suddenly beyond my control, my fate in the hands of another. Someone who possessed the magic of an enchanter.

I recalled the words The Hag had spoken to me only moments before: You’re not really there. My senses at once awakened.

I closed my eyes and ignored the enchanter’s web that was currently dragging me against my will to Mortlea Manor, when another thought struck. I needed a moment to dwell on it, and to do that, I needed time. Something I currently lacked.

An enchantment was called for. With eyes still closed, I summoned a simple dreamspell. At once the bindings loosened, and I hit the earth with a bump. I was in a small woodland in the grounds of the Manor, but I had no time to waste sightseeing…


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #52 | Word count: 152


A Boat Adrift (Lyr #53)

Time was short. Using a basic charm to break the binding had worked (most enchanters think on too grand a scale, believing bigger is better, which is almost never true), though it wouldn’t take long for my own spell to be countered. In the intervening time I needed to think.

I paced between the trees, letting my thoughts run wild.

If I’m not really here how could someone else’s magic work on me? Why had I not heard The Hag’s voice again? If this wasn’t real, was it possible for me to be taken to Mortlea Manor against my will? After all, hadn’t I actually wanted to go there?

‘If you can hear me, now might be a good time to offer some advice,’ I said quietly to The Hag. But there was nothing, only silence. I was a boat adrift…completely out of my depth…and very much alone.


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #53 | Word count: 148


Through The Portal (Lyr #54)

There was no time to ponder further. Storm clouds gathered and crashed overhead. There was no rain, but there was plenty of magic. The sound was deafening. Startled, I clasped my hands to the side of my head. A portal opened in the trees in front of me, and before I could think to do anything, a swirling vortex pulled me into it.

I twisted and turned in the air, and the world for the most part went dark, except for strange lights that flashed passed me. Then, as quickly as the whole thing started, it stopped and I was deposited (with another bump) on a cold, hard floor.

I looked around. I was in a vaulted room, the only light coming from hundreds of lit candles. It felt subterranean, but also sacred, like a temple.

I didn’t know where I was, but I knew I had been here before…


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #54 | Word count: 150

An Enchanted Web (Lyr #51)

This is Part 51 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


 

I searched for a way in but the gates refused to open and I could not fit between the ironwork. The only way was for me to try and climb over; an unappealing thought given the sharp pointy arrowheads lining the top.

‘Lyr, you’re thinking in the physical,’ The Hag’s voice spoke into my head. ‘You’re not really there.’

Everything felt so real I had forgotten the metaphysical aspect to the magic of The Enchanter’s Stone. I closed my eyes and began to enchant to find the answer I sought.

I saw candles in a dark room, no more. Then the silence was broken.

‘Hello, Lyr. I’m so glad you could join us at last. We’ve been waiting for you.’

Suddenly I was tightly bound by the silken threads of an enchanted web. The gates opened and by the force of another’s magic, I was hauled towards Mortlea Manor.


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #51 | Word count: 149

Mortlea Manor (Lyr #50)

This is Part 50 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


I climbed out of the energy stream, hauling myself up on to the statue’s plinth. That’s when I realised this was no statue at all but a gatepost, a carved figure sitting on top.

I let my eyes wander across it. Just above my head was a plaque that read ‘Mortlea Manor’. Then stout ironwork, swirling in intricate designs – reminding me of the door to the Little Folk’s cottage – crossed a carriageway before ending at an identical gatepost. From where I was standing, I could just make out the same iron and stone formed a fence, disappearing in each direction.

My first impression wasn’t a comforting one. This boundary marker was intimidating as it towered in the air above me. It must be at least twice the height of a man, and there was no way through between the railings.

But was it to keep something out or keep something in?


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #50 | Word count: 151

An Enchanter’s Marker (Lyr #49)

This is Part 49 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


‘Let the magic take you where it will,’ I heard The Hag’s instructions over the musical quality of the water-like stream.

I did as she said, though I wasn’t sure I really had the strength nor inclination to battle successfully against it. I cannot tell how long I floated; time moved to a different rhythm here.

Then I felt myself crash into something solid. It surprisingly hurt and it seemed to somehow strike a discordant note all around me. I spluttered, trying to right myself, and when I looked up, looming over me was a tall carving or statue. I couldn’t really tell from my vantage point at its base.

‘Where am I? What do I do now?’

‘You’ve been led to an Enchanter’s Marker, Lyr. You must investigate it and work out why the Enchanter’s Stone has brought you hither. Determine what the stone has to tell you.’


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #49 | Word count: 149

At The Heart Of It All (Lyr #48)

This is Part 48 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


 

It was like water. I felt it flowing, and I was moving with the current – at least, when I got used to the magic. At first, I was unsure and fought against it, but The Hag was there with her words of encouragement.

‘Be calm, Lyr,’ I heard her whisper. ‘It’s the same magic you have inside of you. The same magic you use for dream-weaving, only stronger. Don’t fight it. It can’t hurt you.’

And that’s when everything changed. I could see the magic, like the surface of a river. It ebbed and flowed, and small waves rippled across it. Indistinct shapes, hundreds, no, thousands flittered over it, before being lost to the stream. This was the magic of the dream-weavers, and these, I guessed, must have been the dreams they were enchanting, or maybe had enchanted, or perhaps might enchant in the future…


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #48 | Word count: 145

The Forest of Hafan*

 

It was a special place, a secret place, reserved for those from whom the world had taken so much.

Within its leafy borders, one could take the time to rest, to heal.


Written for Weekend Writing Prompt #126 – Haven | Word Count: 32

  • A little explanation:  Those eagled-eyed amongst you will notice a distinct lack of this weekend’s word in the above piece, at least in English.  The Welsh word for “haven” is “hafan”.  The Forest of Hafan is a sanctuary of healing in one of my WIPs, and it was to this my muse directed me this morning 🙂

The Enchanter’s Stone (Lyr #47)

This is Part 47 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


How many enchanters had been in the presence of this most hallowed, most mythical of objects? I had no idea, but I would guess not many. Like The Hag herself, The Enchanter’s Stone was found in all the stories that recounted the earliest exploits of the dream-weavers. Until this moment, I didn’t believe it really existed.

The standing stone towered into the air and was at least as twice as wide as I was. Light, in a thousand colours, sparkled across the surface, each one denoting a tiny crystal inclusion in the rock.

‘The Enchanter’s Stone is an energy stone, Lyr. It is not the only one, but it is the most impressive and most powerful.’ The Hag proceeded to instruct me in how to work with it.

I sat down facing the stone, legs crossed, knees touching the stone’s surface. And then I waited for the magic to happen…


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #47 | Word count: 150 – So, we’re all caught up with the prompts – woohoo!  The next update will be towards the end of next week, once the next prompt has been released…

A Walk In The Woods (Lyr #46)

This is Part 46 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


‘Come. Walk with me Lyr. We should use this time wisely.’

I had fallen asleep by the water, the gentle sound of the river lapping the bank lulling me to sleep. I woke feeling restored.

We turned away from the channel, towards a forest of mighty trees that reached high into the air. There was no path to speak of, the ground being completely covered by fallen leaves in colours of rust and the darkest gold.

‘Why am I still here? Why did I not wake back in my world?’

‘You’ll return only when you’re ready,’ she answered cryptically. ‘Until then, you’ll remain here. For now, there is something I wish to show you. Something that might help you.’

We climbed a hill. When we reached the top, I was out of breath and not only because of the climb…The Hag had brought me to see the Enchanter’s Stone.


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #46 | Word count: 149 – I’m so enjoying the direction this story has taken.  Many thanks to Crispina over at Crimson Prose for the wonderful photo prompts 🙂  One more part and I will have caught up.  Part 47 coming tomorrow…

Unforeseen Consequences (Lyr #45)

This is Part 45 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


The magic warring above me rained down and mingled with the remnants of the larulia…with unforeseen consequences.

First I was forced to wake. My eyes shot open, but all I saw was painted in two colours: blue and yellow. I could make nothing and no-one out. The colours were indistinct shapes, moving about in haphazard fashion.

Then it felt as if I was pulled out of the waking world through my solar plexus. I was still awake, yet each sound, sight and sensation was as if in a dream.

The Hag was waiting for me on the other side of wherever this was. She smiled. ‘Even those closest to you are determined to make this quest of yours impossible, Lyr. Thankfully I was close by or they might have killed you.’

I looked around. This place was beautiful. Everything was so calm here.

‘Rest now, and wait,’ The Hag encouraged. ‘Rest now, and wait.’


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #45 | Word count: 154 – Again slightly over, but there was a lot to get in this instalment.  Must try harder next time…

A Magical Dispute – The Between Time continued (Lyr #44)

This is Part 44 of an on-going serial I’m writing called, “Lyr the Enchanter”. To read the story from the beginning, you can find the story index, here.


It wasn’t Fandario I needed to fear meddling. It was Adrastia.

‘What are you doing?’ Fadario’s voice sounded uncertain, strained. If he didn’t think something was a good idea, it must be terrible.

‘Trying to help-’

‘Are you? Surely the best course of action is do nothing and no harm will be done.’

‘Get out of my way, Fandario. I don’t have time for your antics.’

‘I’ll not just stand by as you make things worse. At least explain what you plan on doing? How do you plan to counter the effects of the larulia?’

I sorely wanted to hear the answer to that also, but Adrastia must have believed she owed no one an explanation for no response was forthcoming.

The next thing I heard was a thunderclap, sounding directly above me, as colours of blue and yellow rushed by.

Adrastia was using her magic, and Fandario was using his to stop her.


Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #44 | Word count: 154 – Again a few words over – oops!  I had to get a little creative with this prompt as I saw no way of getting a train into the story at this point.  So instead I used two elements taken from the train – its colours and speed – in the story.

As it transpired, the next update was not to be posted on Monday…some times life just gets in the way…sigh… The next update will be tomorrow, of this I’m certain…at the moment, at any rate 🙂