Guest Post: Icy Sedgwick

We pause in the headlong rush of #AtoZchallenge posts for a guest post. Icy Sedgwick has a new book out, The Necromancer’s Apprentice, featuring… mummies! Icy writes the best mummy stories, and she’s ready to share her thoughts about her favorite monsters…

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It sometimes feels like horror monsters have been reduced to vampires, werewolves, zombies, demons and, at a push, ghosts. You just need to look at the classic Universal horrors of the 1930s, or the Hammer cycle of the late 1950s and early 1960s, to realise there any many more monsters to choose from. Personally, my favourite will always be the mummy. Look at Boris Karloff’s charismatic portrayal of Im-Ho-Tep in The Mummy (1932), in which the undead priest was a far more attractive romantic lead than the pathetic ‘hero’. Christopher Lee turned his Kharis into a formidable powerhouse in The Mummy of 1958. Even Arnold Loos’ mummy in The Mummy (1999) was an awesome prospect, simply because he wanted his old love back.

I love mummies for three reasons. Unlike vampires, who are the aristocracy of the horror world, or zombies who are sometimes coded as the working class, mummies are quite classless – not all mummies were royalty, after all. Mummies belong to another world, and another time, and their exoticism adds to their appeal. Furthermore, they don’t necessarily have to suffer the same limitations as other monsters. Aside from cats, Loos’ Imhotep fears nothing, and is all powerful. He isn’t restricted by time of day, or the time of the month. Finally, mummies actually exist. Granted, they’re not rampaging around a city near you, but it’s possible to visit a museum and see one for yourself. The mummy, even in its inert state, represents something more tangible than that of the vampire.

It was my love of mummies that led me to include them in The Necromancer’s Apprentice. I’ve written several flash stories about mummies in the past, and they were part of the story from the very beginning – it was after watching The Sorcerer’s Apprentice that I thought “Wouldn’t it be cool to replace the sorcerer with a necromancer, and the brooms with mummies?” They have an interesting relationship with the dead anyway, being inert until life is returned to them, yet they possess an element of consciousness that is denied to the zombie.

The mummies in the novella aren’t necessarily ‘traditional’ – the mummies are those of the royal family, and they’re kept in the House of the Long Dead, where the necromancer general acts as an intermediary should anyone need to consult with them post mortem. They appear in the story because the Crown Prince has decided he wants to include them in his Coronation parade, and so they need to be resurrected for this purpose. The job is such a big one that the necromancer general needs an assistant, and so she hires Jyx, a magickal protégée from the Academy to act as her apprentice. Of course, things don’t go according to plan but if they did it would have been a much shorter book.

I’m never sure exactly when or why mummies became viewed as monstrous, and while they are in The Necromancer’s Apprentice (although not through any fault of their own), I’ll still always have a soft spot for bandaged marauders.

What about you? What are your favourite monsters?

Bio

Icy Sedgwick was born in the North East of England, and lives and works in Newcastle. She has been writing with a view to doing so professionally for over ten years, and has had several stories included in anthologies, including Short Stack and Bloody Parchment: The Root Cellar & Other Stories.

She spends her non-writing time working on a PhD in Film Studies, considering the use of set design in contemporary horror. Icy had her first book, a pulp Western named The Guns of Retribution, published in 2011, and her horror fantasy, The Necromancer’s Apprentice, was released in March 2014.

Links

Website: http://www.icysedgwick.com

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Necromancers-Apprentice-Icy-Sedgwick/dp/0615964893/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/icypop

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/miss.icy.sedgwick

Google +: http://plus.google.com/+IcySedgwick/about

N is for: (The) Northern Reach (#AtoZchallenge)

The Northern Reach is a long peninsula on the west side of the Straits between the Northern Sea and the Gulf of Camac. It stretches north, then bends east, sheltering the Straits from the worst storms of summer.

Throughout history, the Northern Reach has been renowned for its wines. Until the early Age of Heroes, it was a rural, pastoral region of farms and hillside vineyards. North Keep was the only real population center in those days, the nearby harbor a military outpost. But as Isenbund began to freeze, and the Northerners relocated to the Reach, the outpost became a town. Its name, Phylok, honored the Captain of Isenbund who helped to preserve the few scraps of the old order that did survive.

Through the Age of Heroes, wars and skirmishes with both Ak’koyr and some of the nearby Eastern city-states were common. Ak’koyr managed to conquer the Reach on two occasions, and hold it as a vassal state for a few decades, but eventually the Northerners would rise up and regain their independence.

The sporadic fighting continued into the modern age, for about 350 years. After Amon the Red awakened a Firedrake during one particular battle, devastating both armies, both sides called a truce that began a long (and wary, at first) peace. That particular battle led to the signing of The Treaty, which bans sorcerers from warfare.

To this day, “Reacher” wines command a premium price in faraway corners of Termag. Other exports include gold, copper, and wheat.

Next: O is for: Oakendrake

M is for: (The) Madness (#AtoZchallenge)

The Madness is the common name for the cataclysm that put an end to Camac That Was, and nearly wiped out all humanity on Termag. Exactly what it was, or what caused it, is something that alchemists and philosophers debate without end. Many in the modern age assume that it was a particularly virulent pandemic, perhaps carried from another world by a sorcerer. Others speculate that Camac found a way to combine the powers of Fire and Water, and the contradiction itself was enough to drive the world mad.

What little is actually known comes from fragmentary records dating to the beginning of The Lost Years. It seems to have begun in the western reaches of the empire, and spread like wildfire across the known world. Many places only had a few days’ advance warning, if that. Over half the people were stricken, and were immediately driven mad. They often set upon their fellows (sane or not), and some of those who survived the horror took their own lives. The mad who were not slain (by their own hand or another’s) eventually died on their own after a year. The pandemic, if pandemic it was, may have lost strength as it journeyed east—it was said that the Eastern provinces were not as hard-hit, while the Land of the Dawn Greeters and the South Sea Islands escaped the worst effects.

However it was, the survivors numbered perhaps five percent of the original population. It was up to that tiny remnant to rebuild, and thus began the Age of Heroes.

Next: N is for: (The) Northern Reach

L is for: Lesser Moon (and Greater Moon) (#AtoZchallenge)

Quoth the creation mythos: “When the Creator saw what the Evil One had done, he took away the name and office of the Teacher of Pride, but the Evil One would not yet repent. So in his divine wrath, the Creator broke the Evil One in two, and cast both pieces into the night sky, and they chase each other to this day. Thus do those who lay a curse invoke the power of the moon.”

As the Evil One no longer has a name, neither do the moons that represent him. Few people in modern times think of the Evil One shining down upon them at night; if they do, they thank the Creator that he was able to make some good use of the rebellious lesser god. Still, in augury, the Moon rune represents a curse. Usually, the curse becomes the central part of the augury, with the other runes perhaps helping to explain the nature of the curse. An ancient Northern practice placed a Moon rune atop a spear, which was driven into the ground where an enemy could see it. The cursing-post, as they called it, accompanied a spoken or written invocation that named the cursed one(s) and the punishment sought from the Creator and the lesser gods.

For the most part, Termag’s folk have been uninterested in astronomy. Other worlds are known, and sorcerers occasionally travel to them (deliberately or otherwise). In later years, that has begun to change, but the equivalent of Apollo 11 is a long way off.

Next: M is for: (The) Madness

K is for: Koyr and Ak'koyr (#AtoZchallenge)

Situated on the western Gulf of Camac, only a few days’ sail from the capital, Koyr was the third-largest city in the empire. It was primarily a shipbuilding center. Lumber from Vlis was floated down the Vliskoyr River to Koyr, providing a ready supply of raw materials. (On the southern coast, Stolevan was supplied by forests along the Wide River.)

Koyr’s distinctive features were the Iron Gate (a great treasure) and the acropolis just outside the city. Built on a high hill, it had seven walls rising up the hill like a layer cake. The hill itself was a vast underground city, riddled with hallways and rooms. The upper reaches held granaries and the like.

During The Madness, Captain Anlayt evacuated the sane to the acropolis, where they waited out the destruction in relative comfort. Once things settled down, the survivors removed the Iron Gate and set it up in place of the gate in the topmost wall. They renamed their home and refuge Ak’koyr (Koyr Above). As a safety measure, Captain Anlayt ordered all Koyr’s mad to be slaughtered, and their bodies thrown in the harbor. This injustice led the souls of the mad to walk Koyr for centuries, and the old city could not be resettled until the shades finally began to pass away some 2300 years later.

Still, with a large population of survivors, and ambition to match, Ak’koyr quickly became the chief city during the Age of Heroes. Many of the ruling families saw themselves as Camac Reborn, and made many attempts over the centuries to re-establish the empire under new rulers. The Conclave of Sorcerers moved its headquarters to Ak’koyr from Stolevan (which was in ruins), and those Captains whose territories were yet unsettled often made Ak’koyr their home.

Unlike Camac, which sought to provide all its citizens with a reasonable standard of living, Ak’koyr demanded much from but gave little to the least fortunate among them. Seeking some measure of freedom, some began to inhabit the lower reaches of the underground. They named their passages Nightwalk, and it became a de facto city within a city.

By the end of the Age of Heroes, Ak’koyr began to give up on the dream of empire. Their dominion always covered much of the Gulf, and there were brief periods where they had the Northern Reach and a few nearby Eastern provinces under their heel. There were several further attempts to reconquer at least the Northern Reach, but a few more centuries left Ak’koyr content to rule itself.

A generation before Accidental Sorcerers begins, the last of the shades faded from Koyr proper. Poor folk began to resettle the old city, claiming choice property and triggering a land rush. The old order was upended, and Ak’koyr became little more than a museum piece.

Next: L is for: Lesser Moon (and Greater Moon)

J is for: Jira the White (#AtoZchallenge)

Jira (“noonday sun” or “brilliant”) was Protector of the North during The Madness and its aftermath. Historians credit her with preserving much of what survived of Camac’s knowledge and customs for future generations. Little is known about her personal life, as she used her journal to record the events of the moment.

With the verified death of Her Sublime Majesty, as the only surviving Protector in or near the Gulf of Camac, the burden of ruling what was left of Camac fell to Jira. Despite repeated attempts to undermine her authority, primarily by Captain Anlayt of Ak’koyr, she was able to maintain order in the North and repel raiding parties from the East. It was through her efforts that much of the remnant of Isenbund relocated to the Northern Reach, and she accidentally established Woldland.

She bore a child by a liaison with Arbul the Blue, one of the only surviving mages of Camac proper, and others with Captain Phylok of Isenbund.

The web serial “The Lost Years” (on this blog) is primarily Jira’s story.

Next: K is for: Koyr (and Ak’koyr)

I is for: Isenbund (#AtoZchallenge)

Northerners dwelt in the chill isles of the Faraway North for longer than history can record. Over time, Camac absorbed the North into its empire, “and turned us into tall, pale Westerners.” Most Northerners lived in or near Isenbund, although each island had its own market village.

In the years leading up to The Madness, the North grew noticeably colder. Crops began to fail, and the North began importing food from the rest of the empire. After The Madness, the remnant was able to feed itself for a decade, but then came the summer that Isenbund’s harbor never thawed. Most Northerners relocated to the Northern Reach, but a handful opted to die in their ancestral city. The epic poem The Lament for Isenbund tells of the hardships they faced, and the yearning of those who departed, that their descendants might return one day. Isenbund became “the Icebound,” and even the Northerners accepted the name change over time.

In modern times, the North has begun to thaw… that book is written, and soon to be published. ;-)

Next: J is for: Jira the White

H is for: History (#AtoZchallenge)

Fantasy can be thought of as an expression of humanity’s yearning for something greater—whether it’s finding the hero within us, or a power beyond ourselves. Part of that yearning is the desire to look back to a golden age—or all too often, to create one where one never existed (like so many in America try to do with the 1950s). The ancient Greeks codified it in their own lore, naming the Ages of Man: Golden Age, Silver Age, Bronze Age, Iron Age.

Fantasy, especially epic fantasy, represents this desire by depicting a true Golden Age (or at least one thought to be true). In Termag’s case, the Golden Age is known as “the time of Camac That Was.” Little is truly known about this time, that ended fifteen hundred years before the end of the Age of Heroes, but the hints that survived are tantalizing. The empire depended on magic more than technology, but basic medical techniques (including hygiene and germ theory) were known and survived the passing of the age. Camac may also have solved many social problems that we continue to struggle with on Earth. Camac That Was, and much of Termag’s population, perished in a cataclysmic pandemic known as The Madness.

The Silver Age, the Age of Heroes, is roughly two millennia of attempting to rebuild. Those efforts were hampered by both infighting and other round of Goblin Wars, and ultimately the dreams of Camac Reborn were abandoned.

In the Bronze Age, or “modern times” as the folk call it, people have not reached the peak of ancient Camac… or perhaps they have, but don’t realize it. (As far as the Iron Age goes, Termag may never get there. Iron is rare and precious.)

Next: I is for: Isenbund

G is for: Gods (#AtoZchallenge)

Termag has a number of religions, but I’ve delved deepest into the Western tradition. An abbreviated version of the creation myth may be the best way to describe it:

Before there was a before, the Creator spoke into being the River of Time, that flows to the Sea of Eternity. Then the Creator made Termag and the other worlds, and placed them in a barge. He made the Tiller to steer the barge, and he may be seen in the night sky. … Then the Creator gave life to the worlds, and the people came forth. They ate of the good things that grew in the world, and were happy.

As the people grew in numbers, they could no longer feed everyone by roaming over the land. And so there were quarrels, and fights. The Creator was troubled by what they did, and sent the lesser gods (in some traditions, the Teachers, or Great Powers) to teach the people how to be civilized. The Creator charged the people to listen to the lesser gods, to respect their words, but not to worship them. …

But the Evil One, he who taught pride, said in his heart: “We are far above the people. Why should they not worship us?” And he tried to stir the other Teachers against the Creator. … But only the Teacher of Tools joined the Evil One, and only for a time, and soon repented. (Thus it is that all tools may be used for both good or evil.)

It is also said that the Trickster, who taught jokes and pranks, may have joined with the Evil One, but never admitted it.

Among folk, it is customary to make a warding gesture (palms together, then spread apart) when mentioning a lesser god—especially the Trickster, who is thought to inspire pranks without shielding the pranksters from the consequences. Some traditions venerate ancestors as well.

An older religion holds that Termag is a living being, perhaps an avatar of the Creator. The Dawn Greeters, who live on a peninsula at the easternmost reach of the continent, worship the sun as a manifestation of the Creator, who continues to bring life to the world.

Next: H is for: History

F is for: Fables (#AtoZchallenge)

Or fairy tales, or whatever you’d like to call them (since fables use animals). Parents tell their children bedtime stories—whether to settle them in for the night, to illustrate virtues or truths, or simply to help explain the world they live in. It’s no different on Termag.

“Once, in the time of Camac That Was,” is the traditional way to begin a children’s story. But how about a couple of examples? Links take you elsewhere on this blog.

The Three Builders

The Traveler

Next: G is for: Gods

E is for: Elements (#AtoZchallenge)

The classical elements—Earth, Air, Fire, and Water—are the basis of sorcery. Sorcerers perform magic by manipulating (or rather, harnessing) the chosen element or elements. Intermediate (usually third-year or later) apprentices and full sorcerers can combine two (or more) elements for more powerful effects:

The illustration depicts important truths about sorcery:

• Fire and Water don’t mix, at least by themselves. As described in my flash story Apotheosis, though, Earth and Air can act as moderating influences for the most complex spells.
• Chaos magic is outside the realm of sorcery altogether. As is its legendary opposite, Making.

We’ll talk a little more about magic in Sorcery.

Next: F is for: Fables

D is for: Dragonlore (#AtoZchallenge)

On Termag, dragons fall into three broad categories.

Elemental Dragons

The rarest and most powerful of all dragons—perhaps of all living creatures. At one time, Elemental Dragons may have roamed wild; but historically, they can only be awakened by magic. As the name implies, Elemental Dragons are associated with one of the four sorcerous elements:

• Earth: Cave Wyrm
• Air: Cloud Dragon
• Fire: Firedrake
• Water: Ice Dragon

The binding spells, required to keep the awakened dragon under control, were lost (with a great deal more knowledge) during The Lost Years (see Age of Heroes). One who awakens such a dragon with pure motives may survive, but the usual result is fatal to everyone nearby.

Greater Dragons

Greater Dragons are extinct on Termag. While they could not breathe fire, they were highly intelligent and could speak human languages (if they cared to). However, they would not willingly work together or tolerate each other outside of mating season. Humans may not have set out to exterminate Greater Dragons; but hunting them (and their eggs) disrupted their ability to breed, and they died out.

Lesser Dragons

There are several species of Lesser Dragons still living on Termag. Like their larger cousins, they are intelligent, but do not speak human languages (although some believe they have an innate understanding of all speech). A superstition among many rural folk is that they house the souls of humans who died before their time.


And now, you know at least as much about dragons as most folk.

Next: E is for: Elements

Sleeping Butay (2 of 2) (#FridayFlash)

Check out Part 1 here, then read on…

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With Butay safely out of the way, Hatchet gathered her entourage and returned to the Dominion. Word preceded her, and Prince Chowming packed a bag. “I am on a tour of the Dominion’s golf courses,” he told his advisors, “and then I may journey to Aht-Lann-Tah to see how their courses compare. But I have no fixed itinerary, nor a set time to return.” With that, he bolted from the castle with his closest friend and caddy, Lord Horn.

Once safely away, Chowming and Horn changed into the clothes of common travelers, and set out for the coast. There was only one minor incident along the way, and the Prince has asked me to keep it quiet out of respect for Lord Horn’s dignity.

“Tell me again your intent?” Horn asked, as they neared the town.

“I will find someone to marry on my own,” said Prince Chowming, “and then perhaps that horrid Princess Hatchet will trouble me no more.”

Horn was doubtful, both of the plan and of Hatchet, but said nothing. As princes went, Chowming was easy-going—but there were limits, and the aforementioned minor incident had mostly depleted that deep reservoir of goodwill. So they reached the seaside town, and Chowming revealed himself to the mayor.

“Majesty,” said the mayor, bowing enough to strain his back, “how may we serve you as you grace our presence?”

“I am looking for a wife,” said Chowming. “Tell me, who is the most beautiful maiden in your lovely town?”

“That would be Butay, daughter of Lee and Ki the boatbuilders. But—”

“Is she betrothed?”

“No longer, majesty. But—”

“Then direct me to her home, mayor. I thank you for your help.” Chowming waved away all further objections, and the mayor gave directions.

Lee and Ki were surprised to see the Prince at their door, but were shocked and dismayed when he told them, “I wish to see your daughter, Butay, to ask her hand in marriage.”

“But, majesty,” said Lee. “She is asleep.”

“Then I shall wait for her to awaken.”

Ki wept. “Our daughter has been asleep for a week,” she said. “None have been able to waken her.”

I wonder if Hatchet got to her first, he thought. Aloud he said, “May I see her?”

Denying the Prince anything was unlawful, but he was so polite and well-spoken that the boatbuilders would not have objected had they dared. And so, they led him to her room and left him there to ponder the sleeping Butay.

“She is indeed beautiful,” the Prince whispered. “I only wish I knew what to do.”

“Take her, then marry her,” Lord Horn suggested. “She is in no position to object.”

“What?”

“Certainly, my prince. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. A wife who does not naysay, nor nag, nor—”

“That seems hardly sporting,” said Chowming. “She cannot object, but neither can she consent.”

“You’re the prince! Look. I’ll go take her parents to dinner or something. You just do what comes natural, then we’ll carry her home. If you insist, we’ll have the local priest bless the union or whatever.”

Chowming stood alone, looking at Butay. “This is so wrong,” he muttered. He slid the bench from her vanity across to her bed, then sat on it and took her hand. “If I have to marry at all,” he told her softly, “I would just as soon it were someone like you. I don’t know you, but your parents seem like honest folk. If you’re anything like them…” He took a deep breath. “Butay, daughter of Lee and Ki, will you marry me? If you do not object, I will take that as a ‘yes.’ And I swear, I will—”

“What did you say?” Butay’s eyes fluttered open, for asking for her hand in marriage was how Hatchet’s spell was broken.

“I said, will you marry me?” Chowming gasped. “Butay! You’re—you’re—”

“Um… who are you, and why would I want to marry you?”

“I’m Prince Chowming.”

“Ohh. You must be loaded. Sure, I’ll marry you.”

“Oh, happy day!” Chowming bolted from the room and out the door, calling for Lord Horn and Butay’s parents.


“So I would like to marry your daughter,” Prince Chowming told Lee and Ki. “I know she’s not a princess, but I can fix that with a royal decree—”

“But she is a princess,” Ki said quietly. “The night before our wedding, King Grabaz came to me and demanded his privilege.” She turned to her husband. “I’m so sorry, Lee. I was embarrassed, and I hoped that… well, now I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Well, this is awkward,” said Chowming. “That means you’re my sister. Dad was such an asshole.”

“Figures,” Butay grumbled. “Can’t seem to get a break. Or a wedding.”

“But you could still come back to the castle,” Chowming insisted. “Since you’re my sister, you have access to the royal credit card. I was only looking for a wife to help stimulate the economy. Do you like to shop? Bring your parents, too. We’ll give them a nice retirement, wing in the castle, servants, the works.”

“Er, sire,” Lord Horn mumbled. “There’s the matter of Princess Hatchet.”

“Oh, dear, that’s right,” said Chowming. “I can’t go home until she does.”

“Princess Hatchet’s at the castle?” Butay scowled. “That was her who gave me that drugged wine, like as not.” She rolled up her sleeve and clenched a fist, hard and knobby from a lifetime of building boats. “I’ll see to her.”

And so, they returned to the castle. After a most entertaining smackdown, a battered and bruised Hatchet fled home with the tattered remnants of her entourage. Princess Butay and her mother stimulated the economy quite well with their shopping, and the people of the Dominion once again prospered. As for Chowming, he decided to take that golfing tour after all. All was well in the Dominion, and they all lived happily… for a while, at least. Until the next thing happened.

After all, this is the Strange Lands.

C is for: Camac That Was (#AtoZchallenge)

Unlike most of Termag’s historic great cities, Camac was not founded at the mouth of a river. It may have began as a fishing village, as are many small towns along the shores of the Gulf of Camac. It is situated on a natural harbor, though. What fragments of history survive from Camac That Was do not include its early years, nor what made it the nucleus of a vast empire.

What is known is that the empire advanced more socially than technologically. For example, gender roles were a foreign concept—at least in the West. The restive Eastern provinces were granted much in the way of self-rule, but their patriarchal customs were suppressed until The Madness destroyed the empire. Another example was the “none shall starve” laws. The Pearl Throne owned the land surrounding Camac proper; these lands were kept clear of trees or buildings to deny shelter to invaders, but plots were granted to the poor of Camac for gardening.

Without instant communication, governing a far-flung empire could be a problem—especially in a crisis. Thus, they created the offices of the Protectors, nine sorcerers who had the authority to act in the name of the Pearl Throne where necessary. The Eyes of Byula, a collection of scrying-stones, allowed Protectors to communicate with Camac when needed. Under each Protector were five or six Captains, military officers who had distinguished themselves as tacticians or strategists; Captains had the authority to raise an army when needed to defend their designated territories from external or internal threats.

The Madness destroyed Camac itself, and most of the empire. Today, Camac is home primarily to a handful of scholars, and several cooperatives that dig up stonework for use in other parts of the world.

Next: D is for: Dragonlore

B is for: Bailar the Blue (#AtoZchallenge)

Bailar the Blue is one of the central figures in the Accidental Sorcerers series. As the sorcerer training both his daughter Sura and her boyfriend Mik Dragonrider, he has his hands full keeping them focused. :-)

Early years

It is said that many sorcerers are the sons and daughters of farmers, and that was true in Bailar’s case. Born to wheat and rye farmers in the upper reaches of the Stolevan Matriarchy, along the edge of the Deep Forest, his early years were no different than most other children.

When he was five, a sickness ran through his small community. His mother delivered a stillborn daughter, whom they named Sura (for the summer sun). Bailar himself was stricken by a severe ear infection, that left him temporarily deaf. A Healer was able to restore his hearing, but his balance was permanently impaired. He learned how to cope, and attended school like any other child (education to age 13 is compulsory in the Stolevan Matriarchy). One game that local boys played was to dare their peers to walk into the Deep Forest. The Forest never held any terror for Bailar; he felt secure and balanced there, and would venture far deeper than any of the older boys.

Apprenticeship

On one of his walks in the Forest, Bailar fell. His hand clasped a fallen stick, and the trees told him to take it up as a staff. A truism among the older folk was that only a mage could hear the voices of the trees. With two older sisters, Bailar was unlikely to have much inheritance, and his balance would not allow him to be a good roustabout (farm hand for hire). He seized an opportunity for a better life: he boarded the next barge going downriver, debarked at Exidy, and went to the home of Gilsen the White. Gilsen agreed to take him as an apprentice.

It was that first summer that Bailar ran into trouble. Gilsen took him to the Gathering of the Conclave in Queensport; it was there that Bailar discovered Captain Chelinn’s An Account of Other Worlds. Carried away by stories of great deeds and battles (combat magic had been put aside four hundred years ago), Bailar often neglected his studies in favor of teaching himself spells with little or no application in modern days. The result was that he barely passed the tests given to all apprentices after six years, earning the blue sash of Water magic when he demonstrated his ability to call the water by using a combat spell that launched huge gouts of water high into the air.

Days later, before the Gathering was over, Gilsen died in his sleep. Perhaps sensing that he was about to begin the longest journey, the one from which there is no return, he wrote two letters. In the first, addressed to the Conclave, he invoked his privilege to choose his successor as Sorcerer of Exidy, and he named Bailar. The second was to Bailar himself, in which Gilsen left Bailar all of his worldly goods (including his house) and a great deal of practical advice. As Gilsen had no daughters, Matriarchy law allowed him to inherit the entire property. While the Protectors were reluctant to let a new sorcerer take the post, especially one who had showed little interest in practical magic, the Conclave’s traditions demanded they respect the dying wishes of one of their own.

Early Adult Life

Bailar settled into his role as Sorcerer of Exidy. As his house was across the Wide River from Exidy proper, his quiet life allowed him to catch up on studies that he had neglected.

One summer morning, he found an infant girl on his doorstep, whom he named for his stillborn sister. His life began to change—and changed even more some twelve years later, when a boy rode an ice dragon to his door…

Next: C is for: Camac That Was

A is for: Age of Heroes (#AtoZchallenge)

Let’s just dive right into Termag: A to Z.

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A is for: Age of Heroes

Like our own ages, the Age of Heroes is a convenient tag that historians give to a distinct period. In Termag’s case, it covers roughly fifteen hundred years after the destruction of Camac That Was. The first several centuries are often called “The Lost Years,” although that era is historically a part of the Age of Heroes. The beginning of the age was a dire time, as Jira the White, Protector of the North, wrote at the time:

Take twenty of the folk. Twelve of them fall to The Madness. Seven more perish, by the hands of the mad, starvation or accident, or their own hands. One is left to carry on, the horrors of the last few months forever etched on her mind. Can this tiny remnant re-establish order? Is it even worth trying?

Three Protectors (of nine) and ten Captains (of fifty) survived as well. In normal times, Protectors and Captains were how a far-flung empire maintained order; they stood outside the normal system of governance, but were charged to take command during any crisis. Thus, in the greatest crisis in history, all looked to them for advice and aid.

At first, the remnant hoped to re-establish Camac’s government and reach, to protect the remaining populace and maintain what infrastructure and knowledge had survived. But as the East declared independence, and Isenbund and the Faraway North succumbed to climate change, the focus began to narrow.

Goblins, driven into hiding after the First Goblin Wars, emerged anew and threatened to destroy what little was left of humanity as well. The Second Goblin Wars spanned centuries, and ended with the final defeat and extermination of the Goblins in their fastnesses near Isenbund and what is now Roth's Keep.

End of an Age

With the Goblins wiped out, there were several attempts to reunite the old empire (largely by Ak’Koyr, which saw itself as Camac Reborn). But by this time, none of the population centers, old or new, were willing to give up sovreignty. Ak’koyr itself never managed to extend its rule beyond the western Gulf of Camac, the Northern Reach, and a few nearby Eastern provinces. The role of Protectors devolved into little more than the leadership of the Conclave of Sorcerers, and Captains as ambassadors at large or privileged adventurers (Captain Chelinn being a conspicuous example of the latter).

Sorcerers mark the passing of the Age of Heroes at the winding the Seventh Trumpet outside North Keep (on the shores of the Northern Reach), but historians mark it with the dissolution of the Council of Captains some fifty years later. With various nations going their own ways, and many territories yet wild, many Captains saw their office as a relic of an era that was gone forever. The Council voted to dissolve itself, and folk marked it as the passing of an age.

Next: B is for: Bailar the Blue

The Termag #AtoZchallenge Index Page

When John Wiswell did this with his own world last year, I realized I actually had a theme that could generate 26 posts! This is going to be the most post-populated month in the long history of TFM,  since December 2005 (I was doing multiple posts per day way back when, back before Twitter).

If you’ve wanted more on Termag’s backstory, you’re going to get it. A guilt-free infodump!

You can read the entries linearly, i.e. one after the other, by clicking the “Next:” link at the end of each post. Or, you can follow cross-links inside the posts. Cross-links open a new window or tab; “Next” links use the existing one. A few of the posts link to other stories on this blog, but none of them link to the books (there are links in the sidebar for that). The index below opens a new window/tab.

A is for: Age of Heroes
B is for: Bailar the Blue
C is for: Camac That Was
D is for: Dragonlore
E is for: Elements
F is for: Fables
G is for: Gods
H is for: History
I is for: Isenbund
J is for: Jira the White
K is for: Koyr (and Ak’koyr)
L is for: Lesser Moon (and Greater Moon)
M is for: (The) Madness
N is for: (The) Northern Reach
O is for: Oakendrake
P is for: Protectors (and Captains)
Q is for: Queensport
R is for: (Captain) Rietha
S is for: Sorcery
T is for: (The) Treaty
U is for: (The) Unfallen
V is for: Vlis
W is for: Woldland
X is for: Xorsecc
Y is for: Yes (ways to say it)
Z is for: Zharcon the White


Begin: A is for: Age of Heroes

Sleeping Butay (1 of 2) (#FridayFlash)

After reading some interesting posts about, shall we say, certain events that took place in original fairy tales, I had to write this one. Two of the characters (and I do mean characters) appeared in a previous tale, Stonebelly the Dragon.

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Image source: openclipart.org

Once upon a time, in the Strange Lands north of Aht-Lann-Tah, lived Lee the boatbuilder. His wife Ki gave birth to a daughter, whom they named Butay. She grew into a beautiful young girl, and Lee often boasted that she had the finest stern in the Dominion.

In Butay’s twentieth year, a shadow fell across the Dominion, and Prince Chowming called his advisers together. “There is a shadow across the Dominion,” he said, repeating the narration. “What can we do about it?”

“It is merely a recession,” said Lord Miserly. “It affects only the peasants. Things will improve if left to themselves.”

“Or,” suggested Lord Fairplay, “we could stimulate the economy. It is long past time for you to find a wife, and a royal wedding would solve both problems.”

Prince Chowming’s resigned sigh was drowned out by the shouts of “Hear, hear!” from the other advisors, and the word was spread.

In the Rival Kingdom, word reached the ears of Princess Hatchet. She had once kidnapped Prince Chowming to marry him by force, until that dragon intervened, and saw a second chance to get him in her clutches—I mean, unite the two kingdoms. She summoned her royal consort, Hapless the (former) merchant. “I know you need to settle some accounts with your associates in Aht-Lann-Tah,” she told him. “Go ahead and take care of business. I’ll see you in a month or so, yes?”

Hapless was suspicious, as Hatchet had not let him out of the castle since the wedding, but he did indeed wish to settle his accounts. And if Hatchet thought he’d return without being dragged back by force, so much the better. He wasted little time in departing.

As soon as he was out of sight, Hatchet hurried to her cellar and uncovered her magic mirror. “Mirror, mirror,” she said, “Have I a rival to the hand of Prince Chowming?”

“But one,” the mirror replied. “Among the boatbuilders dwells the maiden Butay. Only she stands in your way.”

“Your rhyming lacks meter,” said Hatchet, “but no matter. By the power of Google, I command thee: find me a spell that will put an end to my rival!”

“Killing an innocent is bad juju,” the mirror warned. “But I have found you a spell that will be just as effective for what you need.”

“Can it be broken?”

“All spells of course can break, but how much effort does it take?” The mirror told her how. “And it wears off after a month.”

“No problem. She can sleep for a month. By then, I’ll have Prince Chowming.”


Butay was storming her way home, and everyone gave her wide hips a wider berth. She had caught her fiancé giving the butcher’s daughter his own salami, and she made sure that the end of their engagement was loud and public. In her rage, she nearly ran down an old woman in her path.

“Greetings, young lady,” said the woman. “Would you like to try my wines? I have only the finest.”

A bit of an ugg, Butay thought, but… “You know, I could use a good drink right now.”

“Then by all means, try some.” The old woman gave her a bottle. “My gift. If you enjoy it, seek me out. I will be glad to sell you some more.”

Butay wondered what the catch was, but didn’t care all that much. She uncorked the bottle and took a deep swig. “Good stuff,” she said. “I’ll be back.”

“Enjoy!” The old woman, who was actually Hatchet in disguise, waved and walked away. Butay took another long drink, then yawned. “Wow,” she said. “I need a nap.” She went home and laid down.

And there she stayed.

continued…

Resurrection #2

The Boy finally got his car working. It wasn’t long before he “found” a job and a place to live near his girlfriend’s place in Newnan. But the fun part was all the stuff that happened along the way.

I believe I mentioned, shortly after he left Wisconsin and was re-admitted to the free-range insane asylum, that his car croaked. Compression was gone, and he immediately decided he needed a new engine. I suggested he do a compression test, because he might only need a top-end rebuild (and like his in-laws, he ignores any data that doesn’t support his snap decision.) Then he decided he wanted a JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) engine, because they supposedly make more horsepower than the US version.

The Boy didn't see this. ;-)

I was skeptical, and so was his friend (the one who bought our green Civic and got it going). But, as I said above, facts don't stand a chance against the snap decision. They hauled the Acura into the #4 chicken house, and The Boy got a Haynes manual—which was horrible for this situation; the manual kept jumping around and skipping steps. But eventually, they got to where they were able to get the tractor bucket chained to the motor and pulled it out.

So, the new one came in. The usual hilarity ensued with getting everything to line up, moving this and that around, and hooking all the wires back up. So he had me down there one chilly Saturday morning. “How do you check the spark?”

I was rather shocked, that someone who thought he could replace an entire engine wouldn’t know how to hold a spark plug against the engine block, but I explained it. He had me crank the engine while he held the plug. No spark. “OK,” I said, “check your distributor, plug wires, and ignition coil.” I checked the fuse block. Easy stuff first, that’s the first rule of troubleshooting and a rule that doesn’t seem to stick with a certain person who prides herself on common sense… but I digress. Anyway, The Boy did some Googling and found that a JDM engine requires a matching ECU (the domestic one doesn’t work for whatever reason). So off to eBay once again, ECU arrives, he installs it, still no spark.

So the friend finally gets back over there, and he begins the methodical kind of approach I can relate to. He swapped in the ignition coil from his Civic, and hey presto, spark! Yes, I razzed The Boy about that on several occasions. Spark, but no vroom. There should have been an earth-shattering vroom. I thought the engine was making that whine that suggests it jumped time, and he decided (as I’d advised him far earlier) to check the timing belt. Turned out it had more teeth missing than a hockey player. With a new timing belt, it finally ran! So they got the car put back together and The Boy got it insured and plated.

Then the fun began. Why he didn’t think about doing this stuff while the new engine was sitting outside the car, I’ll never know. But he figured the first thing to do was change the oil. That’s when he found that a sumo wrestler must have put that oil filter on. It took several days of various things to finally get that sucker loose—he rammed a screwdriver through the filter to get leverage, the old-skool way of removing an oil filter, to no avail. He finally smooshed the end down enough to get a pair of big channel-lock pliers on it, and that did the trick.

Then as he put the oil in, he found that there was a hole in the oil pan. That was a fairly easy fix, as he had the oil pan from his old engine handy. But it was still pretty hilarious, even if by this time he’d taken my garage space and had my Miata out in the rain. I suspect that his shiny new motor was pulled from a wreck. Fun times.

Finally, he found that he’d bodged an axle seal, so his manual transmission fluid was leaking. But that was also a relatively easy fix. Once he was able to get the car back up on jackstands.

Onward and upward… until the next thing happens. I think The Boy’s friend is going to locate us a replacement engine for my old Civic. That should be less of a hassle than the Acura, since we’re not doing the JDM thing. But the Miata has working air conditioning, so I'd probably just sell the Civic once we got it running again.

A to Z challenge: Theme Reveal

Welcome to my world. If it feels lived in, comfortable, it may be because I’ve developed it on and off since 1980 or so.

This is Termag. A world of magic, of world-spanning empires, of a pandemic that destroyed nearly everything. A world of different cultures, matriarchies, rebellions, and wars. And above all, a world full of stories. And my theme for the A to Z Challenge.

For the month of April, I hope you’ll continue to stop by and see what Termag is all about. You’ll get a lot of backstory about this world that hasn’t appeared in the Accidental Sorcerers series, or any other book I’ve written to date. But I won’t be promoting my books (all that’s in the sidebar anyway).

I’ll try to keep them reasonably short. That’s not easy for me.

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Now it’s your turn Sign in and find some other themes to check out…