April 22, 2010

Alone In The Wild

Posted in Homecoming, Yaret tagged , , , , at 11:04 am by E.V. Svetova

Enough of the modern life! Back to the 7th Century Northumbria. An excerpt from Homecoming, Book II: Longing, which offers a glimpse into Yaret’s lonely youth.

Yaret had all the reasons to consider himself apart. Whenever he looked at his own body with his true sight, he could see a bright silvery glow, as if his skin emitted a light like the cold flickering fire of the bogs, but constant. As far as he knew, no other living being had a natural glow this bright.

When, clad in bright silvery shining visible only to himself, Yaret Fairfax strolled through the market crowd he felt like a naked man pushing through a mob of people in full armor. He often thought of his magic as his only garment – a mantle, inconspicuous on the outside but lined with the colors of the rainbow. If unfolded involuntarily, the field of his power encircled those next to him with various results, disastrous at times. From accidentally bending a man to his will to giving someone a sudden headache, every time Yaret interfered with another’s life in a way other than beneficial, he paid triplefold. He paid with nausea, migraines, bouts of spiritual blindness, overwhelming gloom.

Minding his power field was daily labor. So, he learned to tightly tuck the invisible cloak of his magic, separating himself from the incessant want and need of the human world, opening up only when he was called, by name, to help a sick villager or soothe a spooked horse.

Still, after all these years, his life was a constant exercise in control. He had to mind himself every moment, every place. Only when he was alone did he feel comfortable to reveal himself. He let his magic unfold, and the moors, the woods, the hills answered with their own ancient magic. The wind vibrated with breathtaking colors, the sky sang in a chorus of celestial voices, the scent of a meadow and the sea lay on his skin like a touch of fine silk. Alone in the wild, during the brief hour of twilight, when the veil between the magical and the mundane lifts, the constant pain of separation subsided, and he could feel love freely.


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