Incandescence Transcendent is out, including my own original fairy tale, THE WELL
Do you believe in the transcendent incandescence of fairytales?
In this, first ever anthology by Oloris, we take a trip through the world of fairy. Through misty gates that lead into lands unknown, to mermaids seeking to make friends with land folk and fairy moons shining over the world with their enchantment, this book is a magnificent collection of tales that put a twist into traditional fairy tales as well as original tales of fantasy that claim their very own spot into the realm of Faerie itself.
This story includes a gentle witch, his wayward apprentice, and a powerful sorcerer after the Well of Hope.
Luca settled cross-legged on the hearth, murmuring a word of gratitude to the fire as its warmth surrounded him. Keeping a surreptitious eye on the woodpile, he crumbled a crust of bread and honey onto the stones. The animals had grown skittish of late and he missed their company on his long tramps through the forest and in the cabin grown lonely without Rhys’s vibrant presence.
Thoughts of his former apprentice sent his gaze to the small stack of books he kept close at hand to leaf through during the long empty nights. He’d rescued the young man from a brutish existence at the hands of a madman, and the faerie stories were all that would ease his frantic, tortured thoughts. Rhys would sit close to Luka while Luka read the childish tales until his head would nod, and he’d slump into Luka’s arms, a warm, living presence in his solitary life.
Luka raised his head, attentive. Winter gathered outside the latched door, wind howling through the trees sending their limbs scratching along the roof. A shiver traveled Luka’s spine. Something darker than the storm was coming.
The fire snapped in a shower of sparks, recalling his attention. He drew the small bundle of twigs from a pocket, cupped it in his worn hands, and breathed in the scent of juniper and sage. Chanting the words his mother had taught him an age ago, he tossed it into the flames. A tendril of smoke rose, twirled in lazy circles on the air, brushed against his face.
Luka breathed deeply of the heady smoke, held it in his lungs, sage and the grasses he’d gathered by the stream last autumn. His thoughts cleared. He saw everything! Snow whipped through the darkness between the trees, carried on the fierce wind. His beloved animals huddled in the scrubbrush for safety and warmth. The village beyond the forest barred its doors, fires lit, safe inside while the storm raged.
Luka’s thoughts soared, bursting into the moonlit landscape above the clouds. Laughing aloud, his spirit flew in wonder, heart aching at the beauty of the night. But something tugged at his heart, his name shouted on the wind. He blinked at tears, bringing the fire back into focus, the cabin solid around him. Night pressed on the barred windows. Something was in the night…
Luca’s heart leaped. He comes! A soft cry of joy escaped him and he rose in a fluid motion to his feet. He’d sent Rhys away to find love elsewhere than in the arms of a lonely witch, and yet he came, daring the storm.
“Come to me,” he urged the solitary figure in his mind’s eye struggling up the path to reach him. A tremor seized him. Long years of bartering his herbs and potions to the villagers had passed while he waited with hope and dread for Rhys’s return, darkness at his heels.
He crossed the wooden flooring of the cabin, lighting the candles with a word as he passed, filling the room with golden light. Luka paused at the door, hand hesitant on the latch. He had enemies beyond this safe threshold. What if Rhys had gone to them in his bitterness, and returned now for revenge? Luka closed his eyes, seeing again the pain on Rhys’s young face, the confusion in his eyes when Luka told him to go, and closed the door on his anguished pleas.