Category Archives: The Creative Process

Messages to myself about how to navigate impediments which hinder the creative flow in hopes my answers may be a beacon to others.

Jasmine Snippet #79

The Story of Jasmine notes continue:

In the meanwhile, right before the bright terrain transitioned into a darker woodland, Thorne suddenly decided to leave the group and ride south. She said she wanted to reach the nearest Armildian outpost. Everyone wondered the same thing. Why had Thorne just now developed a desperate need to receive news of her people? Why didn’t she just turn south at the crossroads when she had then chance? Thorne profusely reassured everyone that she planned to return and would catch up with them soon, perhaps the next morning.

While everyone focused their attention saying their ‘adieus’ to Thorne, Rogan disappeared. He just slipped noiselessly away. From the tracks, Ahearn concluded Rogan had moved in a direction opposite to Thorne. So it was up to the three of them — Ahearn, Glynn and Jasmine — to enter a dark, foreboding forest, which sat, like a wall on the edge of the great plains.

The woods quickly gave way to forest. The canopy of the branches became so dense, it was difficult to tell when evening fell. They decided to make camp as soon as possible and searched for a clear space to accommodate one. As it turned out, they could not find any suitable place because an excess of thorns and brambles always seem to trim the road.

Jasmine felt a desperate need to stop and just halted at a place where the road slightly widened. Before a warming fire could be managed, Ahearn announced he wanted to scout ahead and he slipped away into the dark.

“They’ve all gone.” Jasmine said to Glynn, who nodded.

“But they’ll be back.” Glynn reassured her.

Then she shared with a sigh,”When we were on the plains, it felt as if I could be picked up by the winds and blown away. I did not dare to let go of my horse for fear of it. In these woods, I feel I’m safe from that.”

“Yes,” Glynn acknowledged, “I knew you were having problems in the wide open.”

“It’s one of the effects of the ring.” Jasmine relayed, “It seems as if I am in the midst of a beautiful landscape. I am traveling on the same road as everyone else, but it appears I am the only one who sees a different world entirely.

“I seem to be going in and out between this world and another. The other world is superimposed on this one. It’s very disconcerting. The ring takes me away to this place. Does it seem to you as if I disappear?”

“No. Never. You’ve always been riding. It’s your imagination. But you do seem like you’re in a trance at times. But long rides tend to do that, so I had not been too concerned.”

Glynn became nervous about where the conversation was leading, so he launched into a nervous litany of what he noticed about his fellow travelers, “In fact, that Ahearn fellow was tranced out most of the time too. But the red one, yeah, that one was always alert to everything around him. I’d call him hyper-vigilant. Shadows disturbed him the most. Yes, he was always accounting for any shadow’s shape, seeing if it matched its source. It’s as if he thought there were eyes everywhere upon him and wanted to know everywhere they were.”

“And Thorne?” Jasmine said, “what was her demeanor?”

Glynn hesitated. A glint in his eye betrayed a thought he dare not utter. “The warrior girl? Let’s see. She was possessed of herself she was. Always aware, but deeply keeping her own thoughts to herself.” Then he winked, “She wouldn’t be too fun at a tavern.”

As he said that, he thought one could never be sure about someone’s actions after a drink or two… Stirring the fire, Glynn became lost to his thoughts for awhile.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #78

The Story of Jasmine Notes continue:

The Special Card, “Crystal Ball” and an Event card, “Magical Forces” from JASMINE: The Battle for the Mid-Realm Collector card game.

All morning, Bardulf spent time with Gryth. The Tome of Wisdom gave him the idea that he could magically teach the dragon-lizard to always return to him, despite who wore the ring. He intended for the creature to locate the ring once and for all.

To achieve this goal, he would need to make a lot of preparations. The first thing he did was locate a small crystal to function with his crystal ball. Through magical incantations, he programmed them to function as both sender and receiver. After he established resonance and frequency between the stones, he endeavored to find a way to place the crystal upon Gryth.

He tested different ways the crystal could be attached and settled on the sturdier method of having it strapped with leather onto it’s chest in front. The other choices either hindered Gryth’s movement, or fell off.

While Gryth flew, Bardulf tested the communication between the crystals until he discovered the exact words of power spoken with the exact tone to achieve the most desireable effect. When at last satisfied, he moved onto the next stage by stepping onto his balcony with Gryth on his arm. He placed the dragon-lizard on the bannister and it flapped its leathery wings in excitement. Gryth’s leg was already tethered to a sturdy string so he could only fly as far as its length.

Bardulf went back inside to consult the crystal ball. Together, the crystals became his eye. And a wonderful eye it was! Bardulf was elated to be able to “see” everywhere Gryth went. Gryth might prove to be the best spy ever! But it all depended.

Next was the hard part. Through the amplification of the crystal ball while using the smaller one to focus, Bardulf increased his power of concentration to the point where he could command the dragon-lizard with his mind. He began small, with little requests, like turn right, pick up that stick, fly to upper branches of a tree or land at a specific place on the ground. Through trial and error, Bardulf tested and honed the effectiveness of how the Crystal ball and the quartz crystal worked together. He never wanted to chance losing Gryth, nor did he want to lose the ring, now that he knew more about it.

The Tome of Wisdom called it the Ring of Emeth, though it wasn’t a ring at all. It was the crown of a faery-king, with the ability to travel in and out of dimensions. Gryth was a faery-dragon, his mount. The reason Gryth homed in on the ring was he instinctively knew that was the way home, the way to return to his own familiar surroundings in his own dimension. When he read the passage, Bardulf wondered what could possibly have happened to the faery-king. How did his uncle initially run across the ring or the creature? And did he know that a faery realm co-existed with the Mid-Realm?

In the days it took Jasmine’s group to leave the temple at the Great  White Throne Mountain and traverse the east-west road past the northern crossroads, Bardulf had devoted and exerted his total concentration towards his objective to train Gryth. The task did not prove to be difficult. It was almost as if the little dragon creature was accustomed to taking such commands. Bardulf recalled that Gryth used to be a Faery king’s mount and accepted that would be the most likely way to account for it.

© 2018 DARLENE

 

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine #77

More notes from the “The Story of  Jasmine”

The Melanthron is a creature that moves throughout the fabric of time so as to live three consecutive lives in different bodies to resurrect into its fourth and final adult stage. Each form is individual within its own life-span. Melthor, the first incarnation, did the most important work first. It set the first action for the end stage — to achieve immortality. The next incarnation was Menlander the Oppressor, a male aspect who built the structure. Melantha, the current incarnation, will reap the harvest. It’s her duty to expand her deadly influence as far and as wide as possible.

Melantha preferred to survive into old age, amassing as much territory as possible and enjoying it. Being unseen while she poisoned the nations and territories around her, was power indeed. She set off no alarms. There were no declarations of war. Her successes were not greeted with the clamor of fanfare. In this way, she slowly, methodically and silently, added territories to the ever-expanding boundaries of Medrylthorn. There was no way to understand complete oblivion unless one witnessed a once vibrant eco-system turn into an ashen grey land, completely devoid of life force.

In the moment of her passing, the grand plan was for Melantha to share and blend what was left of her life force to initiate the final transformation. When that day came, all present and prior incarnations would merge together to unite as one into a terrifying creature entering the mature, adult phase of its existence.

This was the final form of The Melanthron, a unified combination of all three incarnations — male, female, and neither. Its appearance would usher in a truly dark reign of eternal terror for the Mid-Realm. Melantha’s strategy and triumph during her reign, was to as inconspicuously as possible, expand the territory of Medrylthorn.

But, only in her deepest thoughts, did Melantha hide a secret plan. She’d been able to save the huge energy reserves she’d amassed during her life time — a grim collective of all the souls she’d taken. At the time of her passing, she engineered a way for a massive influx of energy to occur. If she could control enough power, the other two incarnations would merge together under her control.

It shall be the third incarnation, The Fire Queen, Melantha herself who shall be in full control over the Melanthron. My own personality will reign as queen forever. Long Live the Queen! Melantha checked herself as soon as she felt an exhilaration of sensual energy course through her body. No. There’s no need to use waste energy, nor to give herself away. There was pleasure enough in the knowing.

Her plans were progressing very well. She was so far along, everything seemed to be poised soon to be within reach of her grasping fingers.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #76

The notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:

Two Wind Special Cards from “The Battle for the Mid-Realm” collector card game.

Everyone had just finished breakfast and were about to break camp when Glynn announced, “We have a slight change of plan. We will not be taking the north road after all. We will continue westward.”

All three companions objected at once, as if the idea was unthinkable. Thorne said, emphatically, “Those lands are much too close to a dangerous and merciless enemy!”

Ahearn bellowed forth with, “Don’t you know there are pockets of cannibals in those parts?” Rogan simply agreed with them both.

“I need to be at a council of the Winds.” Jasmine told them solemnly. Before she walked off, she said, “I cannot help the Meeting Place of the Winds, is in treacherous lands. A dream has called me to visit them at this place and I seem to know the way. If fear prevents you from following me, you are free to part ways and travel where ever you will. But Glynn and I will be traveling westward. We are not afraid.”

Ahearn, Thorne and Rogan looked at each other in stunned amazement. Glynn and Jasmine had already moved off in the space it took to recover themselves. Did Jasmine realize how deeply she insulted them all? She insinuated they were cowards if they did not accompany her. Her comments stopped the conversation cold. How could one reply without looking bad? They shrugged and moved to pack. Everyone was edgy.

Breaking camp was silent, save for the occasional grunt and shouts when lifting was involved. Back in their saddles, they made good progress. Some paused when they passed the cross roads where the north/south road intersected. Sighing, the group resigned itself to trudge westward taking a road less traveled.

Little did they realize that Jasmine’s sudden change of plan saved them from harm. Taking the favored northern road would be a mistake as, the northern route was newly compromised. Taking the North road had been the safest route northward. That’s why they did not immediately take the treacherous northern route outside of Oxted.

Nobody would ever have suspected the north road would have brought them straight into Melantha’s spider-like reach, caught within her lair.

© 2018 DARLENE

 

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #75

The Story of Jasmine notes continue:

Jasmine tossed and turned in her sleep, just as she had done every one. This night was the third encampment away from the White Throne Mountain and the last one before turning northward on their journey. It wasn’t that sleeping on the ground was too unbearable, or that there was so little peace between her companions. She was fighting the influence the ring was trying to impose upon her. Try as she may, she could not remove it physically from her finger.

To cope, she hid herself underneath her cloak for most of the three-day ride and trusted the horse under her to manage them both. The horse’s instincts were better than her own ,so she saw no need to impose her will upon the beast. She trusted her ride over her own judgment to react best in its own, familiar surroundings. She was not totally present or anchored in this world and oscillated between the two worlds.

She avoided looking out upon the sunlit landscape. It was the most gloriously beautiful, dazzling and oppressive landscape she had ever seen. The more they traveled, the more she experienced this convulsive beauty.

Jasmine concluded to herself, “If I accept this as valid, it means the ring commands me. If I am not ruled by a man, why would I be ruled by a ring?”  She handled the uncertainty by rejecting it’s validity and limiting her senses. Both hiding and hidden underneath the refuge of her cloak, Jasmine meditated during their journey across the plains, all the while concentrating on keeping herself in a bubble, suspended between two realities.

She thought the days were more manageable because the collective sound of hooves crunching upon sandy, rocky ground could not be syncopated. But the nights were another matter.

At night, she heard voices oozing out of the stillness. Always, they addressed her. Until this night, she had successfully eluded focusing on their words. But, this time, she was so tired,  she listened. She was greeted by people who seemed not unlike herself. Their features were very fine. All were frantically trying to warn her against taking the north road.

“Travel westward, ” they advised, “Seek the Meeting Place of the Winds and consult.” They identified themselves as the White Faeries, a race of benevolent beings who live in a corresponding world that “inter-penetrates your world.” The White Faeries seemed to be very well acquainted with the details of the Mid-Realm and promised to show Jasmine the best paths to take to avoid mishap. They also told her they were helping, “Because our fates are related and it’s in our best interests to look out for you in this world…”

That comprised the basic message. The heretofore incessant and insistent sounds she had tried to block from her head finally stopped its infernal buzzing.  Only after she acknowledged the message did all broadcasts cease. The oppressive atmosphere she’d sensed before was lifted. So did her disposition. Finally, something felt right.

At first light, she succeeded in getting Glynn’s attention and spoke to him about a change of plan.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #74

Notes for The Story of Jasmine Continue: 

Two Leader Cards from Bardulf’s Faction in JASMINE:The Battle for the Mid-Realm card game.

Bardulf was fascinated by the Tome of Wisdom. The large volume seemed to be written by several hands. Some of the text was indecipherable. Too bad the little people living in the caverns had angered him. If he hadn’t slaughtered them, they might have been able to help him read some of the passages.

With Gryth perched on his shoulder, he inspected each page thoroughly. He was not particularly concerned that he occupied almost all his time in this room in the pursuit of study. It was time well spent.

His accidental discovery of the manuscript represented his best luck in a long time. He knew he wasn’t particularly lucky in life but he learned a lesson early on. You make your own luck. And so he did, by always tipping the odds in his favor, and having a backup plan.

Thus, finding the book was truly fortunate. Because he had no hand in it, in his mind, this serendipity represented a reward from the gods, or whomever. It justified all the atrocities he ordered his enthralled juniors to commit on his behalf. The sacrifices made by the innocent became not only forgivable but necessary. Then he dared to believe that somehow he was very special and meant to be the recipient of the Tome of Wisdom all along.

The magical yoke he placed on UR’s weak-minded in positions of power continued to work beautifully. He changed the balance of power simply by catering to greed, spreading false rumors and encouraging dissent. This structure was surprisingly effective and enduring.

In the places still loyal to their king, where no amount of riches could bribe them, he practiced more devious methods to assure they stayed under his thumb. He would continue to reward obedience—a combination of  bribes, privilege and social status. He left it to his compromised ones in power to keep their own people in line.

To break UR’s spirit, greed and continual propaganda were his most effective tools. Bardulf’s social genius was to always keep the money flowing, from the poor and dispossessed, back into the pockets of the rich. Bardulf enlisted the assistance of local town criers whose voices the people were prone to trust. He made them think they were actually helping their village or town by exposing the “truth” about what’s happening in other parts of the kingdom. Those he had manipulated into broadcasting false information with their voices, he jokingly called his “Troupe of Sanctified Liars.”

Before his take-over, he had them spread stories about the Kingdom’s unhappiness and their discontent with the present situation. Even though everyone pretty much prospered under their present king, Bardulf meant to convince the average person otherwise. The seeds Bardulf sowed with his magic grew and spread. His smear campaign became effective because the false news stories were slowly sprinkled in with the village or town’s news in general.

His strategy resulted in more than he’d hoped for. He succeeded in brainwashing the townspeople of each berg to accept and welcome the on-coming assault that was sure to come. Bardulf did not need to build a massive army to overwhelm the situation. When the time came and his armed forces swept in, many villages simply threw down their arms and welcomed them. All Bardulf needed was key people in key places of power to accomplish his wishes. And also, a series of well-hidden spies to keep the top feeders in their place as well.

After his take-over, his town-criers changed their clamor. Bardulf’s propaganda now took up the majority of their announcements. All stories reinforced the idea that Bardulf’s rule was beneficial to all. News of local interest diminished. News of discontent was left unspoken.   

Of late, Bardulf wondered — could a demoralized group of people eventually become more like the minions the Fire Queen commanded? Her magic was far stronger than his. What he managed to do with the populace of his conquered lands was nothing compared to her achievement of total domination.

But now, with the Tome of Wisdom at his finger tips, he will have finally have the means to best the witch. In the midst of his reverie, a strange thought entered his mind. Which one among his servants spied for Melantha?

© 2018 DARLENE

 

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

Jasmine Snippet #73

Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue”

Two cards from JASMINE: The Battle for the Mid-Realm collector card game: Gryth Faction card and the special card, Ring of Emeth.

Having returned to Swartzborg Castle, Bardulf immediately set out to visit his little dragon lizard, Gryth. After his encounter with princess Flavia, he had Gryth carefully caged and taken to back to safety and did not want to risk the little creature being wounded. Bardulf gave instructions to have certain fruits cut and lavishly laid out on a plate and placed before Gryth.

When Bardulf entered the room, it was late afternoon. He noticed the fruit was hours old, but that Gryth had been recently nimbling. Gryth made noises of recognition as soon as Bardulf came near. As Bardulf greeted the creature, he opened the door of the cage. Gryth immediately jumped onto the table, spilling the plate. He leapt up into the air and circled the room several times, making loud gutteral sounds as he shrieked.

Bardulf admired his amazing way of flying. Remembering the princess’ reaction, Bardulf wondered how anyone could be so fearful of such an awesome, enchanting aerobatic little creature such as this? As Gryth shrieked in delight, Bardulf conceded, it might be the sound he made. The dragon lizard eventually landed on Bardulf’s shoulders and cooed in his ear.

Bardulf took off his gloves to stroke the creature’s nose with his index finger. Gryth’s snout was cold to the touch, and his tiny scales felt smooth. The Dark Prince answered in cooing sounds and talked to the little fellow in reassuring tones. If he loved anything in this world, it was that little creature he had stolen from his uncle.

Gryth was not easy to obtain. Several times, he tried to removed the creature from his uncle’s place, but his actions proved to be fruitless. The creature would always return to its perch. By accident, he happened to spy his uncle putting a ring on one of his gnarly old fingers. He noted how the creature immediately perked up and showed interest in the old man. It would get affectionate and would make  excited screeches that were terrifying to hear. Somehow, Gryth was connected to that ring and it seemed his uncle was able to use it’s connection to command the creature’s attention.

No matter how many times he’d asked, his uncle never divulged anything about the history of this unique creature nor how he came by it. His uncle did not like the creature’s unfortunately loud and terse-sounding call. For that reason, he would take off the ring and hide it away.

Bardulf devised an elaborate plan to steal the ring and hence, the dragon. He first declared to his uncle that he was finally leaving. Several times, his uncle suggested his stay had grown quite tiresome and invited his nephew leave. Bardulf knew his uncle would welcome this chance to be rid of him and would not pay any particular interest as to why. Bardulf was surprised when his uncle gave him supplies and parting gifts. Strange, his uncle proved to be more generous upon his leaving than when he stayed.

Bardulf left, but stayed within the borders of the area. Bardulf understood that if he wanted Gryth to go with him, all he had to do was to find where his uncle hid the ring. While he was around, Bardulf figured his uncle took extra special precautions when it came to the ring’s security. He hoped, that with him gone, his uncle would relax his hyper vigilance.

Bardulf used all the magic he could muster to infiltrate his uncle’s castle without causing alarm. He became comfortably adept at moving around unseen. Finally, his patience and his stealth paid off. He spied his uncle’s hiding place.

With the ring finally in hand, Bardulf knew he could not simply put it on without arousing the creature’s alarming shrieks. So after he succeeded in pilfering the ring, he took it outside and hid it where he had stayed. Then he returned to the castle and stole the dragon lizard, who proved to be as docile as the other times he tried to take him. Only this time, with the Ring of Emeth in his possession, Gryth would stay with him.

And the best part was that his uncle could not reasonably suspect him as the thief! Now he left for good, and traveled south. He planned to take over the southern lands as surely as his uncle had taken over the northern realm — with the help of this prized dragon-lizard.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

 

Jasmine Snippet #72

Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

Thorne knew that Jasmine was the Princess of UR. The discarded dress discovered earlier gave that secret away. Thorne was predisposed to think ill of this girl, whomever she purported to be. That’s probably why Thorne could barely tolerate her. Thorne could think of several reasons the girl might be pretending to be someone else. Not wishing to marry the usurper, Bardulf would be one excellent reason. Still, that girl really needed to appear more unnoticeable. Of all the possible disguises there were to don, a religious personage traveling with a dwarf was a most unfortunate choice.

The chances were nil this little princess would blend seamlessly into the background. The poor girl needed help. An old dwarf, as fearsome as he may be, would not be enough to ward off any serious attack against them. When it dawned on her that keeping this girl safe could be vital to the national interests of her people, Thorne prepared herself to do her duty.

Coming upon the Princess of UR on the seat of the White Throne Mountain Thorne chalked up to serendipity. How fortunate, she did not have to return home in defeat. A new avenue had been presented to her and she grabbed it. The opportunity coincided quite well with alternate plans previously discussed to take their plea to other nations. A body guard was a much better disguise than what she had been doing until this point.

Ah — to be able to openly wear her armor, Thorne felt more like herself. She hated playing a demure, sick little sot, incapable of doing anything but smile. Being forced by duty to wear an URian court dress gave Thorne some insight into what the poor women of UR had to endure. Too bad they did not have someone like Abigale to help them.

Thorne was happy to be able to wear her armor at very long stretches. It was all due to Abigale’s art. She sewed Thorne’s undergarments to be able to support movement while helping to balance the armor placed over it. She was also able to enjoy the late afternoon sun without being cooked in her armor. Her body was well ventilated and the late afternoon sun felt good.

In Thorne’s mind, she pledged her sword to the daughter of the King of UR. So, to the utter confusion of her Rothian escort, Thorne made a ceremony of offering Jasmine her protection. Thorne inwardly enjoyed Rogan’s reaction. She savored his bewilderment. It amused her. In remembering the look on his face, the light in her eyes sparkled.

Thorne arched to stretch her muscles, leaning back so far, she came close to touching the back of her horse. The four of them had made steady progress on the main east-west road away from Oxted. She wondered why she felt so content. The idea of making camp in several hours delighted her. Although she was in the company of three people she did not know or really trust, she felt free, happy and glad to be alive.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

 

Jasmine Snippet #71

“The Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

When she stood on the bank, inspecting the clothing Ahearn had pulled from the stream, nothing got past Thorne. She had information the others did not and preferred to keep it that way. When she examined the dress, she recognized the stitching. Her friend Abigale created a signature way of using a needle and thread that no Armildian could replicate. It was what made her family’s work the best in the Kingdom. Abigale’s excellence as a seamstress, also granted her royal status. Thorne was very proud the day her friend from childhood became a Royal Seamstress.

Thorne knew something else that few did. Abigale had a secret. As she sewed, she put prayers in every stitch.Not that long ago, she visited Abigale, when she worked on the very dress she held in her hand.

She remembered the dress particularly because they’d been joking about it. “If only you could stitch some humility in those seams…” Thorne had laughed.

“Oh, I know you,” Abigale had replied, “if you had your way, I’d be sewing other things into it, like getting exercise, discipline and probably learning swordsmanship…”

“Are those things so bad?” Thorne returned.

Abilgale suddenly became serious,”Her Highness already told me the purpose of the gown, and I am bound to serve her intentions.”

“All right, all right, mercy!” Thorne cried dramatically, in an effort to return to the light-hearted banter. They both knew their queen had strategic reasons for everything. The gift of the dress to the King of UR’s daughter was a political calculation. The power of their gift meant everything. If they wanted to achieve a successful alliance, the style and materials of the gown had to be very well thought out, just like all the other gifts they sent.

Abigale had first thought to design a high-fashion dress for someone who fit the description of a vain, demanding little brat who was spoiled by her father and cuddled by her nursemaid. Then she remembered, this girl was motherless. The father spoiled her as a way to express his love.

According to the general gossip, the girl seemed to be overly attached to her nursemaid.  Everyone in court commented on it. Most thought it odd. Usually little girls rebel from their nursemaids as soon as possible. Some claimed the nursemaid had a hand in the princess refusing eligible suitors. All agreed, the nurse-maid exercised too much control over the princess.

As to clothing, people reported the princess only wore high style court clothes when in public. Ot was said that when by herself, the princess wore more modest attire. So the style and fabric of the gown had to be in between. “Don’t make it too rich, nor too common,” was the advice given to her.

That’s when Abigail came up with the brilliant idea to make the dress please the nursemaid instead. That would further ensure the princess would wear the frock more often. The gown had to also be enchanting to all that looked upon it in court. Abigale was equal to the task and produced a stunning and effective work of art.

Thorne was selected to serve as Ambassador after the Armildian Nation sent their gifts to the King of UR. They hoped their gifts, sent previous to their visit, would grant them favor. Due to URian etiquette, they went so far as to arrange a male escort for Thorne.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

 

Jasmine Snippet #69

“The Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

Within the fire, an image of the Queen appeared. She glared at Rogan with burning eyes. Before she could utter a word, Rogan launched into his prepared speech. As he bowed low, he professed his allegiance and deeply apologized for his failure to respond sooner. “I have been in the company of a most suspicious and difficult woman,” he found himself saying about Thorne, “she never gave me a moment’s time to myself. I could not risk her suspecting my true motives. The task has proved to be more difficult than we anticipated…”

The Queen regarded him through the licking flames but remained silent and impassive. Her dancing orange-yellow grew brighter and more intense. He could not look away. Then he became aware of the intrusion of her focused stare. The sharp energy pierced him in the forehead, like an arrow. Fortunately, he had the mental rigor not to give over to fear. His defense was to call up and concentrate his thoughts on how forthright and dependable he was.

He quickly launched into consciously visualizing his intended report. Good thing he had most of the morning to consider how he wanted to convey his information. Soon, he conjured up several powerful thought images of Thorne. In his mind, he showed Thorne as greatly upset over UR’s demise and how she beat her fists on a chair in frustration.

Melantha laughed, and broke her gaze. Due to the timing, Rogan wondered if he had been effective in limiting Melantha’s mental probing. He was unsure about how well he had been able to block her from his mind. He wanted to believe his visualization was successful, at least to a degree. Not knowing, he was finally at a loss of what to say.

“Your thoughts betray you, Rogan the Red.” She said at last, “What would your poor family think if they knew you covet this v-e-r-rr-r-y captivating woman?” Rogan bristled at the mention of his family. He had tried not to think of what torture Melantha would impose on them if he failed to carry out her schemes. The freedom of his homeland was also at stake. According to their pact, the evil Queen would not move against Roth as long as he worked as a spy against the Armildian people.

His agreement with her had been deceptively easy to make. He knew nothing of these boastful maidens who lived in the south. It meant nothing to him to spy on their country. His idea of a spy was to stay in the mountain passes, hiding behind rocks and trees to report the movements of people and supplies. But his assigned task proved to be more difficult than he bargained for.

Melantha told him to mingle among the battle maidens and befriend them. He was ordered to make himself indispensable. To achieve that, he had to spend time with them. The longer he stayed in their lands among them, the more admiration and compassion he felt for them. As he witnessed the honor and valor of these people, he could not help but to respect the Armildians.

That only made his task that much harder. He really wanted to help them, but the needs of his own country would always precede. All Rothians knew first hand how Melantha could suck the life-force from the land and its living creatures. Her slow advance had been methodical, but deadly. Nothing but a black wasteland was now left of the three Kingdoms that used to stand between Medrylthorn and Roth.

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

————————————————————————–