The Witch’s Memory part 10 (recap)

Jaspeak launched the crackling flame
Then shielded her eyes from the light which came
From the fiery orb burning bright as the sun
Once it was launched it couldn’t be undone
The stone wolves howled out in pain
To the moon which had started to wane
They scampered back to the depths of shadows
To await their turn for another go
Jaspeak looked up past the trees
Begging and hoping please
For the moon to be pinned in the center of the sky
Although she wished, she knew it a lie
It had shuffled off to the side as if slowly toppled from a throne
Though grateful to be alive she uttered a groan
The Luna Blossom began to sag
A deep resentment started to nag
At her heartstrings for the loss
Of the magic ingredient that was now her cost
She glared at the man as he pulled himself from the ground
Controlling a fury inside where she wanted to pound
The man into tiny microbes of dust
But calm herself she must
Because that is how her father would want it
Though he wished to teach the man to regret
Stumbling upon her that very night
Under the waning moonlight
“Are you a simpleton?” Jaspeak spat
“Do you have any idea where you are at
Monsters live in this wood more fearsome than those
And all of them can see you in those hideous clothes
A walking target is what you are
You’re fortunate to walk out of this with nary a scar
The man stretched then dusted himself off
And then he gave a very sarcastic cough
“You’re welcome.” Is all he said
Then Jaspeak saw nothing but red
“You dare to seek thanks for what you did?”
Jaspeak bellowed ready to flip her lid
“I saved you from being ate
And I did it not a moment too late
My thanks for you not being food
Is for you to be prickly and quite rude
You can see what it is I can do
Now reveal yourself before I do worse to you.”
Then the man let loose a sigh
And the scarf he began to untie
As the fabric fell to the wayside
She saw what it was he wished to hide
Not a man but a boy her age
Whose eyes were a brilliant shade of sage
He was handsome for lack of a more suitable word
The feelings stirring inside her were absurd
Countless boys sought her dainty hand
And she found them all crude and bland
This boy however caught her off guard
Still there was failed magic to regard
“You ruined my experiment I hope you know
Do you have an ounce of remorse to show?”
The boy combed his fingers through his wild brown hair
“To be, my lady, honestly fair
It’s your life I do believe I came to save
Keeping you from an early grave
I saw those wolves from a mile away
And you in the dark like you were ready to play
So I took it upon myself to do what I can
Then I came up with an ingenious plan
To shoot an arrow and make it true
All in an effort to rescue you.”


The Witch’s Memory part 1 (recap)

As the stars and the moon sat up straight

The people of Durbin did celebrate 

For their lost princess did return

So far that they would let their candles burn

Into a liquid pool of wax and goo

And they’d still dance and sing the night through

Her appearance alone would have been enough

For the people to gather round and strut their stuff

Yet their celebration would be a hundred fold 

As she brought a boy with her brave and bold

One who wanted to take her hand

Before he knew she ruled over all this land

For this they’d dance until their feet were sore

Doing dances never done before

The curse was broken, filling the kingdom with joy

All hail the princess and the soon to be prince boy

While all of this was going on

Before the morning saw its dawn

A witch traveled through the haunted wood

Heading to where the cursed princess had stood

A princess made a dragon, full of fright

Too afraid to let her true self be seen in the light

Cursed until a boy saw the beauty inside

Stripped of misconceptions and any semblance of pride

All had gone according to plan

One weaved with her very own hand

She darted through the trees, grass and dark

Arriving at the cave so gloomy and stark

The witch traveled down into the cave so deep

Where the dragon did once sleep

Setting her bare feet on the magical soil

No longer filled with strife and turmoil

Seeing the hollow oh so empty

Filled the witch with unbridled glee

Now her mission could go undisturbed 

Left to do as she pleased unheard 

The witch inhaled a great breath

Laying eyes on what was left

Upon the dragon’s cave floor

Laid all her dreams and more

In place of the dragon’s stead

Were the tears the beast had shed

Upon the ground there were tiny shards 

Shining brilliant with a texture quite hard

The witch picked up the gem and started to grin

Remembering how this all came to begin

It began a long time ago far from this cave

Where magic roamed free and the people were brave

Back in the land of Sluggatero

In a time set a thousand years ago

The people of Sluggatero were happy and carefree 

Just as any group of people should be

The citizens were all magic imbued

Across the kingdoms others’ fears were not subdued

What they didn’t understand made them cringe

And fear the people living on the fringe

Fearing they would craft a spell

To make sure all in the world was not well

They pleaded with their king to end this mess

Of the magic folk they believed wished them stress

What was the king supposed to do

But scheme and plot the nights through

On how to handle the situation 

With the people who worked divination 

As the king thought up a way

To lead the magical folk astray

There was a girl and her family true

Playing under a sky so blue

The girl did laugh and giggle

While in the sky squawked a full

Flying free and unencumbered

As if not knowing the people’s days were numbered

After this particular tickle session

It proved time for another magic lesson

The father fell in the lush green grass

Flecks of grey peppered his moustache

His smile beamed bright like the heavenly sun

He was quite winded so playtime was done

“Come here my sweet child,” laughed the dad

“Surely another day there is fun to be had

But now is time to learn to sift

From what is curse and what is gift

Come now lass and take a seat

A respite from this summer heat

Let me impart a bit of knowledge in your head

Smarts I earned not just read.”

The girl sat down with a smile

And the grass accepted her, making her cozy for awhile

As the winds kicked up, caressing her face

Her father spoke with patient grace

“When it comes to magic you must be wise

A simple spell could mean your demise

Because all magic comes at a cost

Some spells can never measure what is lost

Know this little girl, know all the rules

Or a life of magic can be quite cruel

Lesson one can never enough be said

There is no bringing back the dead

Although your heart may ache from the loss of them

If you follow through the results will be from

Unspeakable horrors better left untold 

Leaving your spirit bound and cold

A fate I do not wish for your little one

Buy hold your questions until this lesson is done

Lesson two could easily have been the start

As it deals with the matters of the heart

You may never use magic for the purpose of love

No matter what tribulation may come to shove

Love is a matter best left for the soul

Corrupting it will certainly take its toll

Love is powerful and meant to be free

If the person is not meant to live you, let it be

When it comes to lessons this’ll be the third

Please young one, do not find this absurd

Magic is a weapon that you can arm

But you must use it for good, not to bring others harm

We masters of magic were called for a great purpose

The violent ways of others is not meant for us

You were called for so much more

To do wonders never seen before

Don’t waste your gifts on petty revenge

I know all too well this is a challenge

People will push you to be oh so cruel

To fight, plunder, and certainly duel

I ask you now to let it go

The good in you needs to show

Our good shall bring us into the light

Where there will be no more trauma or need to fight 

Where we can live in peace with those without the gift

And the wall that stands between us will lift

Only then will we truly live in peace

Unyielding love for every person each

When you truly understand these rules I gave

Then you will know how to behave

Once the world tries to steal your joy

So no matter what tricks they choose to deploy

You will still be our little one and make us proud

If you have any questions speak them aloud

Better to know now than not at all

Ask your query child before nightfall.”

Inkslayer’s Journal: It’s Been Awhile

Wow! Too much time has passed since I did an actual check in with the Inkslayer Army. For that I apologize. There are many excuses I can use but that’s what they are: excuses. Over time I’ll explain all that’s been going on over the months, but for now I wanted to come on and say Happy 2018! 
Writing Quote Wednesday will still be up and running this year as well as a return to The Witch’s Memory after doing a recap (there’s an ending, I promise LOL) New things are coming. This is going to be an incredible year. Let’s do this!
Until next time have a writeous day! 

Inkslayer’s Journal Entry 5

Hey everyone! Still reeling from getting Beyond Here out into the world. Make sure to get your copy. Also if you message me I can set up signing and delivering you a copy if you wish. In the meantime here’s a free read of a flash fiction piece that I hope to make a full fledged novel at some point. I hope you enjoy!!

Ghost of the Arena

Her nights were always the same. 
The blood and her lone symbolic act were washed away with coarse goat hairbrushes. With each pass through she felt her wounds begin to tear anew. It reminded her that she will still alive. That the gods thought to curse her for another day.
She slept bare under the canopy of stars, the night sky matching her skin of coal. Each blazing jewel in sky was an unanswered plea for the release from the misery of this world. Before the morning light a new star would be born.
By the break of day she’d be awakened by Doc, a member of her troupe. In spite of overwhelming sense of death and horror which hung over the arena Doc managed to be cheery, sunlight dancing in his blue eyes.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t take a direct shot to the shoulder today. That is unless you’re not attached to it,” he said as he traced her collarbone with his finger.
Her waking pain was the same yet new nonetheless. “Are you giving instruction to your lanista?”
“Simply observing. It’s what I do.”
His olive skin never ceased to look pale against her own dark tones. The sun had taken its toll on his flesh leaving weathered lines behind in its wake. They paled in comparison to her menagerie of scars.
“How are the others?” she asked as she stood, her nude figure unabashed in the morning rays.
“That’s all that can be asked.”
They held a mutual respect for each other. A quiet means of foreplay that would proceed no further. There was no love for gladiators, not even amongst themselves. 
Before eating or partaking in the meager water rations provided she had to become the warrior she was made to become, the ghost of the arena. As she slumbered through the night the crew used a large kiln to dispose of the losers of yesterday. Their ashes would be ready for her by the rising of the sun, a mixture of grey and ivory. From the top of her head to the soles of her feet the dark skinned warrior dusted herself in the regret of yesterday. When she was done she was new, baptized in the death of fire.
From here she dressed herself in her armor before joining her troupe for their rations. Although the only female amongst the several men they held her in high regard. Her actions in the arena had saved their skin on numerous occasions.
The rest of the morning consisted of practice, practice, and trying to find out why she was a black girl sentenced to die in the arena. Soon it was mid-afternoon and the daylight was saturated with the cries of a bloodthirsty audience. The games were set to begin, and her and her Poison Apples were set to take center stage.
But today was different. 
The gates would wait longer today to open, to usher them into the madness. A trove of royal guards entered the confines of the area they called home, carrying with them the scent of sweat…and of her. The queen stank of nightshade, as poisonous as her heart. The queen considered herself to be a mother to the people, but to the gladiators made to fight on her behalf she may as well have been a wicked stepmother.
With her robes barely touching the tainted sand the queen made her way down the line of the Poison Apples until she reached the ghost of the arena. It was hard to discern anything about the queen behind that damn porcelain mask she wore.
“Will you win today?” the queen asked, her voice darkened as the sky as the sun sought to be tucked under the horizon. 

The black girl painted in ash didn’t speak. Her time spent as a gladiator gave her the impression the queen had something to do with her imprisonment. 
Although she couldn’t see it the warrior felt a cruel grin arch from behind the porcelain facade. “One can only hope so. My favorite apple in the batch. My Snow White.”