Book Two: Destiny’s Shroud Prologue

Since the beginning of 2024, I have spoken to a variety of instances where attention and focus on revising book one of The Sy’Arrian Legacy Series prior to resubmitting it to publishers has been continually delayed. If you have followed any of my entries for this year or seen some of my Instagram posts, it is simply a matter of life getting in the way. I have learned over the years this is not something to be over analyzed or criticized, merely an acceptance of its propensity to occur and move forward, which is exactly what we will be doing.

I use we because with every post, I am taking you on my journey as I navigate the mind and the fickle industry of content creation.

In a September 25, Instagram post, I spoke to a return of the creative spark, which has eluded me far too long. There have been a few other instances of epiphanies and awakenings, which I have spoken to in previous writings, and they are, obviously, still relevant. In spite of them, I knew something was still missing until it came to me a few weeks ago after having an in-depth conversation with my ex-husband. Initially, I felt my feelings of despondency were due to still going through the grieving process of moving forward after the end of a 24-year relationship, so I construed it as being normal. The real reason hit me later in the evening after watching an episode in the last season of Star Trek: Discovery.

Acceptance is a very sobering and freeing experience. Up to this point, even though I thought I had dealt with it, I never truly accepted the possibility of The Sy’Arrian Legacy Series going nowhere in my lifetime. It is a hard pill to swallow. I say this with the utmost humility because, when it comes to my writing, I leave my ego in a box where it belongs. I have always held, I cannot advance as a writer if I cannot receive and, where it is necessary, implement the advice of others. Do not misconstrue my words for I do believe we all have a sliver of ego and arrogance, especially related to things we are most passionate about. The key is to keep it all in balance through the art of self-reflection.

Keep in mind, the original concept of my universe, was conceived when I was 16-years old and only one book. At my current age of 57, the evolution of this universe is inexorably tied to my own, where it potentially will be up to eight books. The potency of the creative spark returning is reminiscent of when I wrote more consistently when I was younger. This is how I know, the true reason as to why I continually put my writing on the back burner has finally been exposed.

In the last few weeks, I have finished all the revisions to The Cradle of Destiny and I am not conducting a read through to ensure consistency. So, for this month’s post, I want to provide a taste of things to come by reading the prologue to book two, Destiny’s Shroud. For those of you who prefer to listen to the audio versions of my posts, do not expect me to be “in character” because I am not a professional voice actor. Let us begin.

Prologue

Threads of Change 

Somewhere in the Emaru Expanse  

“The future influences the present just as much as the past.” – Friedrich Nietzshe

The flow was torn, a savage evisceration orchestrated by an unknown conductor and tied inexorably to his own forced self-awareness.      

He reached for them, the yearning to reconnect intensifying with each new iteration. No matter the effort put forth, they were always just out of reach, mystifying his developing consciousness. Every attempt to use the flow to bring them closer escalated the excruciating pain burning through tendon, bone, muscle, and every neuron in his body.

          Visages of his past selves faded into the cosmic moat surrounding him, drowning them in the deep recesses of his mind. Their loss, so profound, caused his mental stability to thrash wildly, fighting for control as multiple, coalescing realities stabbed at his sanity in their fight for dominance. It had always been this way, even in the beginning, and it would remain as such with each emergence.

          While the threads of cosmic history knitted to his psyche, the once violent, periodic elemental reactions surrounding him slowed, allowing for a less painful reconnection. The flow began to swaddle him in its multitude of hues, tranquility leisurely replacing chaos. His new founded peace aided in reinstatement of rational thought and focused awareness. A foundation created by both suffering and peace was now set. His purpose would be whispered on and carried by the very stardust floating upon the cosmic winds.

          He allowed the matter comprising his body to circulate through the threads of space and time, straining to discover the source restraining his ability to see what could not be seen. His crystalline blue eyes, still enclosed behind their fleshy eyelids, darted rapidly left to right in concerted desperation. The tendrils of another attempting to bend the flow’s will to their own, progressively became clearer with each passing moment; his eyes slowed their movements.

          “Impressive. It has almost completely thwarted every measure I have put it place to slow its advancement.” A calm, self-assured voice echoed upon the minds of those present. “I suggest you make haste, Kal.”

          “Haste is what lead us to enact such a counter measure, Yeldreth.” Kal responded flatly, albeit respectfully, choosing to remain in telepathic contact. His smooth, gray skinned hands whisked rapidly across the green, brightly lit ionic interface before him.

          “The coordinates are adding a level of difficulty to this endeavor I had not previously considered, my friend. It should only be a few more moments until it is safe to release it.” Kal’s solid, dark black eyes blinked heavily against the glow cast upon his features by the interface.

          “You did memorize the correct coordinates?” Yeldreth continued to remain hovering a few meters above the stone surface beneath him, noting an awkward silence. “Kal? I know you sensed my last words.”

          “I am ignoring you.” Kal stated simply, noting only two coordinates remained until the translocation was complete.

          “Will you two stop communicating telepathically. It makes my mind itch.” A small, 0.2-meter sized sphere of warm, yellow light dashed frantically from Kal’s kneeling position at the base of a 47-meter-tall edifice then to Yeldreth’s backside, before darting several meters upward in to the starlite sky, pausing to hover between them.

          “I thought your kind had no preferred form of communication, Aylor? You know Kal’s people primarily employ hand gestures to convey messages and, right now, those hands are busy performing an essential task.”

          Aylor’s luminescence intensified, creating an angelic glow in their immediate vicinity, burning away the veil of night to expose dual pillars of ancient stone, each attached to their own base with one of them concealing the small statured Kal, who continued to input the coordinates; only one left.

          “It is the infernal and ceaseless humming of this arc. It is indeed the proverbial itch I cannot scratch.” Aylor conferred in the best, imitating sigh he could muster.

          He quelled his nervousness to observe Yeldreth’s use of the arc to project three thin tendrils of mixed blue and purple hues, through its translucent orifice; a mindscape intended to distract and confuse the one they sought to hold at bay until they finished the translocation process.

          While Kal continued inputting at a focused pace, the engraved symbols etched into the arc’s stone skin began to pulsate a green hue. Their luminosity intensified with each passing moment, seemingly in tune with the rhythmic pace of low-level humming pulsating outward from the two bases holding it together. Each symbol ignited in succession on both sides of the pillars, extending upward to its highest point. The intensifying humming and pulsating symbols suddenly nullified one another to create an eerie quiet.

          “There we go.” Kal stood fully upward; his small 1.2-meter stature dwarfed by the arc’s massive presence. “The final coordinate has been set.”

          The arc’s topmost symbol: three circles encapsulating three evenly spaced lines extending downward from three small dots, flashed prominently. The symbol began to rotate along its horizontal axis, attached to seamless hinges, while creating a plume of dust, and the sharp grating of loosened stone pebbles. Aylor ascended rapidly to the symbol’s location, his patience worn thin by the various noises penetrating his senses.

          “It is now facing skyward.” Aylor observed, a hint of puzzlement laced in his tone, forcing what could be construed as a smile from Kal’s small, flat mouth.

          “I would suggest backing off a meter or two if I were you, Aylor.” Kal cautioned, still allowing Yeldreth to maintain a telepathic link.

          “I appreciate your concern, Kal,” Aylor acknowledged, floating lazily towards his concerned friend’s location. “But in my true form, very little can harm me.”

          Unexpectedly, a stream of solid green light exploded from the symbol Aylor had been observing mere moments ago. It cut through the night sky, penetrating the atmosphere above, only to be swallowed by the dark maw of space.

          “Oh my,” a hint of nervousness surfacing in Aylor’s mood. “That would have singed my delicate features. I take back what I said earlier, and thank you for the warning, my friend.”

           “One should never make assumptions nor be too careful when interacting with the flow.”  Yeldreth interjected, eyes closed, a placid expression etched upon his slender, ashen face. His black, weathered robes hung loosely on an outwardly, fragile body frame.

          “Indeed,” Kal nodded. “Feel free to release your finely crafted mindscape at any time, Yeldreth. I can now send it directly to our objective.”

          “As you wish,” a smile creeping across Yeldreth’s face. “A tad unfortunate if you ask me. I was starting to enjoy my little sojourn through its freshly developed mind.”

          Once the red slits of Yeldreth’s eyes could be seen, the tendrils extending from his lean arms immediately disappeared, allowing his mental acuity to reshape and return fully to the present moment. He let out a slow and deliberate breath while observing Kal turning toward the arc’s base once again. Taking only a few small steps forward, the smooth gray-skinned being, placed both hands on the pulsating symbols and closed his eyes.

          “Go forth, my child,” he whispered. “Do whatever is necessary to save them.”

          As his words slowly faded, the arc went quiet, and its symbols ceased pulsating, returning to their dormant state. Kal opened his eyes, pausing to contemplate what the three of them had just accomplished, wondering if it was too little, too late. He stared through the arc’s hollow orifice, once filled with the thin, translucent veil leading to other worlds scattered throughout the universe. He noted how the planet’s two moons were now framed perfectly in its embrace, their pale white light dancing through the night sky towards him.

          “You appear to be perturbed, Kal,” Yeldreth inquired, floating toward his small friend. “Having second thoughts?”

          Kal found it a rather odd question considering his people rarely deviate from a course of action once committed. He turned towards them, detecting a scintilla of scrutiny from his two compatriots, momentarily thinking if he should have included them on this endeavor: speaking of too little, too late.

          “I was merely reflecting on what lead us here in the first place,” Kal began, still allowing Yeldreth’s telepathic abilities to act as their primary means of communication. “Do you think it will be enough?”

          “We fashioned it perfectly, Kal,” Aylor intoned, the yellow light surrounding him expanding in unison with his words. “It will respond according to its unique gifts.”

          “What of those who came before?” Kal gestured towards the arc. “Their essences were not ours for the taking.”

          “Your empathy is a credit to your race, Kal. The others are of no concern. They will be seamlessly reintegrated as it is with all things.” Yeldreth stated confidently while folding his hands neatly in front of him.

          “Do not forget it was necessary to restore the natural order of events. Our intervention will save hundreds from a senseless and unjustifiable death.”

          “Is death ever justifiable, Yeldreth?” Aylor inquired, not really caring for a response but knew full well he would receive one.

          “It depends on who you ask, does it not? It is true the ones we seek to defend have exceeded expectations and suffering an untimely fate does not allow the universe to unfold as it should. More appropriately, one could argue our interference only serves to make matters worse.”

          Yeldreth’s musing was cut short by a fourth voice much deeper and authoritative. “A sound and correct observation.”

           Kal and Yeldreth turned in the direction of the new voice, while Aylor’s glow became more prominent. A 2.28 meter tall being strode into view, effectively blocking all ambient light cast by the twinkling stars in the night sky. It was hairless with smooth, light black skin and three narrow, vertical slits for eyes; two evenly spaced across its face, while the third rested in its forehead. Its mouth was flat and almost completely lipless, much like Kal’s with no visible nose or ears. The imposing figure’s stride was graceful, slender arms and hands moving in harmony similar to an aquatic lifeform gliding through the water. It stopped only a few meters away from the others, looking at them studiously, its head tilted slightly to one side.

          “What have you three, meddlesome fools been up to now?” Its voice thickly laced in sarcasm. “A collapsed star perhaps? Correcting a mating ritual gone amok? Or simply sticking your noses in affairs, which do not concern you.”

          “Eru,” Yeldreth’s smooth tone inferred a level of experience. “Your timing is impeccable as always. Of all the worlds in the known universe, how is it you find yourself on this one?”

          “The flow guided me, Yeldreth,” Eru stated matter of fact, pointing to the arc behind them. “When it is disrupted, I am duty bound to respond and correct any breaks accordingly. All of you share the same responsibility and should not need reminding.”

          He walked past them, not caring if they were still in his path, stopping dead center in the arc’s opening. Altering the elasticity of his body’s physical composition, Eru stretched each arm well beyond is standard length to place a hand on each pillar. Slightly tilting his head back, eyes closed, Eru entered a meditative state while a soft blue glow began seeping from his hands in to each pillar. The arc’s symbols exploded back to life, only this time in the same hue emanating from Eru’s flattened palms. 

          The others waited in subdued silence, aware of Eru’s true intentions given their past histories with him. Although he was not to be trifled with, their actions in this matter were not up for debate, nor did they answer to him. Eru’s relevance in the grand scheme had come to an end many millennia ago, allowing the balance of power to shift appropriately in their favor. He was merely a footnote in history: nothing more and nothing less.

          Not too soon after placing his hands on the arc, Eru’s narrow eyes sprang wide open, a deep and bright orange hue spilling from them. Releasing his grip from each pillar, the arc went silent once again as the large figure spun around to face them, a look of demonic fury distorting his presence.

          “What…have…you DONE?!” Each of the words heaved through his clenched jaw and bulged neck veins.

          “What was necessary!” Aylor shouted back.

          “Aylor is correct, Eru,” Kal began much calmer than his comrade. “Their premature destruction disrupts the flow, endangering the natural course of life, and puts all of us at risk.”

          “You impetuous and incorrigible children! The only thing served here today is your selfish whims; an act of desperation by those who feign concern for others because they are incapable of accepting their fate.”

          “Much like your people, Eru.” Yeldreth retorted. “The Naru vanished from the tomes of memory long ago. Yet here you remain instead of committing your essence to the flow. We may not be accepting of our fates, as you allege, but at least we are not hypocritical.”

          “I have known you for several millennia, Yeldreth.” Eru quelled his ire, allowing his normal stature to return. “Your predilection to chase a pedestrian response for every critical observation of your actions has not changed, nuance is not your strong suit. Did any of you, in your infantile wisdom, even consider the possibility they would both adapt and recover?”

           “The loss would have been too great.” Kal shook his large head, wondering if he was subconsciously shaking out the possibility Eru may be correct.

          “The flow weaves, adjusts, and effortlessly adapts to all changes, Kal. No matter how destructive or challenging, it always finds a way through the natural course of events. Attempts to manipulate turns a ripple into a cataclysm.”

          “The hypothesis of interference resulting only in highly disastrous effects has yet to pass appropriate scrutiny.” Aylor knew his attempts to dissuade Eru’s opinions would fail, but it did not completely nullify his either.

          “Your own ignorance is astounding, Aylor.” Eru chided. “Such a young race able to form the pentalpha so early in their evolution can easily recover from any set back. Your lack of faith got the better of you all.”

          Eru walked past them once again, noting their undeterred and steadfast stubbornness. When he reached the location of his first interaction with them, the need to pass along one final thought forced him to pause and face them one last time.

          “Based on your actions in this moment, and what I just mentioned, imagine what will happen as the flow adapts and begins to manifest in all races, reshaping the very nature of those it touches. What happened when they formed the five points will pale in comparison for what is to come.”

In closing, your moment of Zen is to talk less, do more and be humble. This will allow wisdom to take hold and give you the ability to help yourself, while being effective in helping guide others to take their journey towards living in the moment.

Until next time, be safe, be well and let us continue to not only hone the fine art of creative writing, but ourselves as well.