PLEASE BEGIN WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. Rough draft of an imaginary fable, inspired by the television show, Grimm.
The Hexen Empire began to crumble during the French Revolution. Ordinary citizens demanded equal status and access to the wealth, which was disproportionately held by a tiny percentage of the population. The Great War usurped more of the monarchies and World War II deposed several more fiefdoms, many royals and their underlings died. Survivors scattered around the world. The remaining Crown Heads of Europe lost much of their wealth and power. They became symbolic patrons instead of political leaders. Hexen moved into cabinet positions in the new democratic and socialist governments but their heyday was over. The Changeling community was overjoyed.
During the 1980s I met a delightful artistic Hexen paradox, named Rudolpho. He had long dark hair, brown twinkly eyes, and a sweet smile. Love is a wonderful feeling and I became blissfully pregnant. We lived in a small safe community in Turkey and met a nice Grimm couple from America, the Burkhardts. They were both descended from Good Grimms who had immigrated to the United States. They were teaching English in a nearby village for a year. We became good friends but I never told them my real identity. I enjoyed spending time with my “children.”
We were celebrating the Burkhardt’s five-year wedding anniversary and bon voyage with a dinner at our abode. They were to return home the next week. Rudy was finishing a painting in his studio when I went out to greet Kelly and Reed at their car. As we returned to the house, the hair on the back of my neck began to stand on end. I knew what it meant and warned our guests. A gaggle of Hybrids attacked us. Even though I was eight months pregnant, I was able to fight alongside my friends and we managed to kill all but one of the Hybrids. However, it was too late for Rudy, he laid decapitated next to his easel.
I was bereft with heartache. I don’t even know when the labor pains began. I gave birth while grieving the loss of my beloved. The police cleared us of charges but could not repair my broken heart. I held my darling baby boy and wept. I was also sad that Burkhardts were about to return to the United States. I knew what I had to do. I called my lawyer and arranged for a private adoption. Nickolas became their son. I felt deep grief but I knew that optimistic people would raise him. They would protect him from becoming a servant of beasts. I hunted the final member of the Hybrid pack to learn who ordered the extermination of my family. The Hybrid confessed and but I was not ready to seek revenge.
I would check in on the Burkhardts and was satisfied with Nick’s progress. They told him that I was a cousin. Nick was a happy and loved child. I did not predict that Reed would have an affair with his wife’s best friend, Gina Serafini. Kelly found out, hired a Hybrid assassin to kill them, and fled. Nick’s aunt Marie Kessler did a fine job of raising him. I visited on several occasions. However, she chose not to take him through the Fledging process and it delayed the blooming of his Grimm skills. I must correct this error. Together we could avenge the murder of his biological father.
THE END?
Thank you for reading this very rough draft of a possible origination story of the Grimm. My first venture into fiction. Please feel free to friend me on Facebook!
NOTE: The current series of Grimm will re-start on NBC on March 8th, 2013. I encourage you to view old episodes on their website.
Sources:
www.ancient-greece.org/history/delphi.html
www.grimm.wikia.com/wiki
www.monsaventinus.wikia.com/wiki/
www.nbc.com
www.olympia-greece.org/delphi.html
www.wikipedia.com
May the Grimm be with you.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Showing posts with label NBC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NBC. Show all posts
Monday, March 4, 2013
Saturday, March 2, 2013
SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER EIGHT
PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a fictional story.
When I am busy, time flows by quickly. Changelings had adapted along with other humans to the physical condition of their environment. Their bodies were affected by the amount of daylight and humidity. They resided in areas suitable to sustain their sub-species. Otherwise, all Changelings are similar. They just want to have a good life and raise children. I could only be in one location at a time. It would take a year or more for news to travel from place to place before technology shortened the communications gap. I kept finding new places to visit. It was less complicated to travel as a male.
I intervened to rescue Changeling sub-species who were hunted by humans or other Changelings and improved my reputation. It was nice to be invited a Changeling community; the hosts would be gracious enough to provide food, clothing and shelter. I found happiness again. Long ago I learned how to determine what the local society considered valuable and procure it. Thus, I was able to purchase what I needed. A lot of calories are expended when transforming from one species to another. I needed food to maintain my position and nutrition isn’t free. I would stash valuables such as precious metals and stones in caches, but sometimes the goods would be absconded before I returned for them. Eventually, I used banks to store my finances.
After many years of solitude, I sought affection. I had learned long ago that sexual intimacy without emotion is merely a form of exercise. I loved the person that I was with until the relationship ended or they died. I was attracted to the soul of the person, not their body. My partner’s gender was not a concern. Since I could alter my physical appearance, it was easy to make certain that we were compatible. I could not reproduce as a male, though.
During my sojourns, I would occasionally discover a Hexen paradox: a magical person with kindhearted and empathic traits. They fought their evil nature and escaped from the callousness of their own tribe. I protected the Positive Witch/Warlock for as long as possible. If I mated with the Positive Warlock, I made certain that our Grimm child was raised in an optimistic environment. Tragically, sometimes my lovers were located and murdered by angry Changelings, fearful humans, or vengeful Hexens. Our children would be stolen and brainwashed by the Hexens to join the Royal Guard. I always feared for their safety.
I was fortunate when surviving “Good” Grimm children would reach maturity and challenge evil in all its forms. They would champion those oppressed by the Royals. They would lead a band of rebels and battle the Hexen. Their efforts saved the world from utter Hexen domination. They hunted and killed Wesen who harmed humans and transformed into the unofficial Sheriff of the Changeling community. Changelings could not determine the difference between a positive and negative Grimm so they feared all my children and their offspring.
We accidentally discovered that when the blood of a Grimm was absorbed by a Hexen, the evil shard of Tanis’ soul would be dispelled from the Hexen’s soul rendering them to be an ordinary witch/warlock. Perhaps it is because a miniscule portion of Tanis’ spirit is in each Grimm rendering their DNA incompatible. I did the best that I could but I could not stop all the tragedies that occurred. To err is Human and Changelings are a part of the Human clan.
Changelings lived harmoniously as valued members with most indigenous tribes. I spent time on the North American continent before heading south to venture to deep into the beautiful Amazon basin. Upon my return to modernity, it was agonizing to learn that the British government crushed the original occupants of the land through colonization. I ensured that the continent remained neutral Changeling territory; no Royals were allowed to establish themselves in the democratic governments that formed during the 1700s. One small victory.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
When I am busy, time flows by quickly. Changelings had adapted along with other humans to the physical condition of their environment. Their bodies were affected by the amount of daylight and humidity. They resided in areas suitable to sustain their sub-species. Otherwise, all Changelings are similar. They just want to have a good life and raise children. I could only be in one location at a time. It would take a year or more for news to travel from place to place before technology shortened the communications gap. I kept finding new places to visit. It was less complicated to travel as a male.
I intervened to rescue Changeling sub-species who were hunted by humans or other Changelings and improved my reputation. It was nice to be invited a Changeling community; the hosts would be gracious enough to provide food, clothing and shelter. I found happiness again. Long ago I learned how to determine what the local society considered valuable and procure it. Thus, I was able to purchase what I needed. A lot of calories are expended when transforming from one species to another. I needed food to maintain my position and nutrition isn’t free. I would stash valuables such as precious metals and stones in caches, but sometimes the goods would be absconded before I returned for them. Eventually, I used banks to store my finances.
After many years of solitude, I sought affection. I had learned long ago that sexual intimacy without emotion is merely a form of exercise. I loved the person that I was with until the relationship ended or they died. I was attracted to the soul of the person, not their body. My partner’s gender was not a concern. Since I could alter my physical appearance, it was easy to make certain that we were compatible. I could not reproduce as a male, though.
During my sojourns, I would occasionally discover a Hexen paradox: a magical person with kindhearted and empathic traits. They fought their evil nature and escaped from the callousness of their own tribe. I protected the Positive Witch/Warlock for as long as possible. If I mated with the Positive Warlock, I made certain that our Grimm child was raised in an optimistic environment. Tragically, sometimes my lovers were located and murdered by angry Changelings, fearful humans, or vengeful Hexens. Our children would be stolen and brainwashed by the Hexens to join the Royal Guard. I always feared for their safety.
I was fortunate when surviving “Good” Grimm children would reach maturity and challenge evil in all its forms. They would champion those oppressed by the Royals. They would lead a band of rebels and battle the Hexen. Their efforts saved the world from utter Hexen domination. They hunted and killed Wesen who harmed humans and transformed into the unofficial Sheriff of the Changeling community. Changelings could not determine the difference between a positive and negative Grimm so they feared all my children and their offspring.
We accidentally discovered that when the blood of a Grimm was absorbed by a Hexen, the evil shard of Tanis’ soul would be dispelled from the Hexen’s soul rendering them to be an ordinary witch/warlock. Perhaps it is because a miniscule portion of Tanis’ spirit is in each Grimm rendering their DNA incompatible. I did the best that I could but I could not stop all the tragedies that occurred. To err is Human and Changelings are a part of the Human clan.
Changelings lived harmoniously as valued members with most indigenous tribes. I spent time on the North American continent before heading south to venture to deep into the beautiful Amazon basin. Upon my return to modernity, it was agonizing to learn that the British government crushed the original occupants of the land through colonization. I ensured that the continent remained neutral Changeling territory; no Royals were allowed to establish themselves in the democratic governments that formed during the 1700s. One small victory.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Thursday, February 28, 2013
SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER SEVEN
PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a rough draft of a fictional tale.
Decades flowed into centuries and millennium. Time lost its relevance. My bottled up grief exploded into anger and rage. I thoughtlessly spilled a lot of blood because I had cut myself off from emotion during captivity. I wandered from community to community and appointed myself judge and jury. Changelings feared the name Alpha. My decisions were swift and deadly.
After on particularly harsh verdict upon a Changeling, a child innocently inquired, “Why is it is so easy for you to hurt others?” I was stunned by her insolence. It felt like I had been hit by lightening. Causing pain was effortless for me. I began to question my motives. Was I wrong all these years? I knew in my heart that the answer was yes. I’d just ignored the feelings of guilt. Once I accepted that I was emulating Tanis, I had to atone for my sins. Thus, my quest for spirituality commenced. I met with many wise people and studied myriad religions. I did not convert to one specific theology. Instead, I sought similarities because that is where I found truth. It took many years to learn how to guide with compassion. I had to remember what my biological family taught about healing. It is much more difficult to seek tranquility rather than destruction.
My children’s Royal Guard moved in opposition of my efforts. They led an army of humans to conquer land and resources for the Hexen. They served City-States that expanded into Regional Governances and Nations. The Hexen endowed themselves with the elevated status of royalty amongst Changelings, who they referred to as Wesen. The Royals maintained power through the guise of puppet sovereigns, the Seven Houses or Crown Heads who were purportedly appointed by a deity to lead. The human-crown wearers endowed themselves with the illusion of Manifest Destiny. Monarchs tended to annihilate each other but the Hexen controlled the military and resources, which were required regardless of who wore the coronet.
A vicious cycle of violence engrained itself into Wesen culture. Hexen ruthlessly demanded total submission from the Changelings. Hexen were also merciless with each other. Weakness was not tolerated. Questioning and hesitation to follow orders resulted in a violent penalty or death. My children became known as the Grimm. They were used to force Changeling and human compliance. Grimm Fairy Tales were written to scare human children into obedience. Hybrids were bred to serve as assassins for political gain and to keep the Grimm submissive. The presence of a Hybrid always raises my hackles.
The Hexen Empire dominated a continent that became known as Europe. As Alpha, I trained Changelings and human warriors to keep the Hexen from expanding their reach. We successfully held the Wesen at bay. I finally felt at ease and began traveling to locate other Changeling clans. I traversed every continent and was thrilled that our species thrived. I was happy to discover that some human communities lived in harmony with Changelings. However, I did not anticipate that the Hexen would spread their malevolence through colonization. By the time I realized my gaffe, it was too late to reverse their infestation.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Decades flowed into centuries and millennium. Time lost its relevance. My bottled up grief exploded into anger and rage. I thoughtlessly spilled a lot of blood because I had cut myself off from emotion during captivity. I wandered from community to community and appointed myself judge and jury. Changelings feared the name Alpha. My decisions were swift and deadly.
After on particularly harsh verdict upon a Changeling, a child innocently inquired, “Why is it is so easy for you to hurt others?” I was stunned by her insolence. It felt like I had been hit by lightening. Causing pain was effortless for me. I began to question my motives. Was I wrong all these years? I knew in my heart that the answer was yes. I’d just ignored the feelings of guilt. Once I accepted that I was emulating Tanis, I had to atone for my sins. Thus, my quest for spirituality commenced. I met with many wise people and studied myriad religions. I did not convert to one specific theology. Instead, I sought similarities because that is where I found truth. It took many years to learn how to guide with compassion. I had to remember what my biological family taught about healing. It is much more difficult to seek tranquility rather than destruction.
My children’s Royal Guard moved in opposition of my efforts. They led an army of humans to conquer land and resources for the Hexen. They served City-States that expanded into Regional Governances and Nations. The Hexen endowed themselves with the elevated status of royalty amongst Changelings, who they referred to as Wesen. The Royals maintained power through the guise of puppet sovereigns, the Seven Houses or Crown Heads who were purportedly appointed by a deity to lead. The human-crown wearers endowed themselves with the illusion of Manifest Destiny. Monarchs tended to annihilate each other but the Hexen controlled the military and resources, which were required regardless of who wore the coronet.
A vicious cycle of violence engrained itself into Wesen culture. Hexen ruthlessly demanded total submission from the Changelings. Hexen were also merciless with each other. Weakness was not tolerated. Questioning and hesitation to follow orders resulted in a violent penalty or death. My children became known as the Grimm. They were used to force Changeling and human compliance. Grimm Fairy Tales were written to scare human children into obedience. Hybrids were bred to serve as assassins for political gain and to keep the Grimm submissive. The presence of a Hybrid always raises my hackles.
The Hexen Empire dominated a continent that became known as Europe. As Alpha, I trained Changelings and human warriors to keep the Hexen from expanding their reach. We successfully held the Wesen at bay. I finally felt at ease and began traveling to locate other Changeling clans. I traversed every continent and was thrilled that our species thrived. I was happy to discover that some human communities lived in harmony with Changelings. However, I did not anticipate that the Hexen would spread their malevolence through colonization. By the time I realized my gaffe, it was too late to reverse their infestation.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER SIX
PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a rough draft of a fictional fable.
Tanis’ sorcery was only diminished when she was in physical pain. During the birth of each child, I was required to provide extra protection from her myriad enemies. The labor with the newest baby was especially difficult. Tanis began to bleed excessively before the child crowned. The blood poured out of her womb as the baby began to emerge. Her spirit was struggling between staying in her body and leaving. Without thinking I grabbed Tanis’ partially detached soul and the evil energy shattered as her body died. A shard of her wicked essence plunged into the baby and wrapped around the child’s innocent soul. Unwittingly, I had created the first Hexenbiest and was severely punished for the death of the mistress.
Enyo, Tanis’ child survived birth and was raised within the malevolent confines of the coven. She was even worse than her mother and grew into a cruel authoritative tyrant. All her children were Hexenbiests. The vileness of Tanis’ soul augmented their negative magic and each bore a dark birthmark on the underside of their tongue. I remained a slave and Enyo’s son, Ares, raped me. For the first time, my child lived. Agrimadios was torn from my arms as an infant and taught total allegiance to the Hexen-tribe. Ares and his brothers continued to sire my children.
Enyo was disappointed that her grandchild was an average youngster with the exception of few illnesses and healing quickly from injuries. As he entered adolescence, Agrimadios became uncontrollable. He would not or could not listen to the demands of his elders. I was finally permitted to spend time with my eldest child. I was to teach him how to be in command of his emotions and transformations. For his own safety, I taught him the Fledging process.
It became clear that he was neither a Changeling nor Hexenbiest. He was extraordinary Blank. Though he could not physically convert, he could take on many of the characteristics of any Changeling. His senses were more developed than a human, he was strong, fast, and intelligent. Enyo was delighted. All my offspring were brainwashed to protect their full-blooded Hexen relatives and serve as paid mercenaries. The insidious nature of enslavement forced Agrimadios, his siblings and half-siblings to incestuously copulate and raise an army of warriors which became known as the Royal Guard. I became despondent.
After many years, the League managed to breach the security of my prison. They paid a guard to leave my cell door slightly ajar and I escaped. I transformed into a bird and flew as my own progeny tried to kill me. My heart was breaking because my offspring would forever be attached to the Hexen. I could not change their fate. I located a group of Changelings who remembered the story of Pha-al though they somehow inverted the name to Al-pha. We stayed far away from the Hexen and my manipulated children. I cried bitter tears and regretted my yearning to become a parent.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Tanis’ sorcery was only diminished when she was in physical pain. During the birth of each child, I was required to provide extra protection from her myriad enemies. The labor with the newest baby was especially difficult. Tanis began to bleed excessively before the child crowned. The blood poured out of her womb as the baby began to emerge. Her spirit was struggling between staying in her body and leaving. Without thinking I grabbed Tanis’ partially detached soul and the evil energy shattered as her body died. A shard of her wicked essence plunged into the baby and wrapped around the child’s innocent soul. Unwittingly, I had created the first Hexenbiest and was severely punished for the death of the mistress.
Enyo, Tanis’ child survived birth and was raised within the malevolent confines of the coven. She was even worse than her mother and grew into a cruel authoritative tyrant. All her children were Hexenbiests. The vileness of Tanis’ soul augmented their negative magic and each bore a dark birthmark on the underside of their tongue. I remained a slave and Enyo’s son, Ares, raped me. For the first time, my child lived. Agrimadios was torn from my arms as an infant and taught total allegiance to the Hexen-tribe. Ares and his brothers continued to sire my children.
Enyo was disappointed that her grandchild was an average youngster with the exception of few illnesses and healing quickly from injuries. As he entered adolescence, Agrimadios became uncontrollable. He would not or could not listen to the demands of his elders. I was finally permitted to spend time with my eldest child. I was to teach him how to be in command of his emotions and transformations. For his own safety, I taught him the Fledging process.
It became clear that he was neither a Changeling nor Hexenbiest. He was extraordinary Blank. Though he could not physically convert, he could take on many of the characteristics of any Changeling. His senses were more developed than a human, he was strong, fast, and intelligent. Enyo was delighted. All my offspring were brainwashed to protect their full-blooded Hexen relatives and serve as paid mercenaries. The insidious nature of enslavement forced Agrimadios, his siblings and half-siblings to incestuously copulate and raise an army of warriors which became known as the Royal Guard. I became despondent.
After many years, the League managed to breach the security of my prison. They paid a guard to leave my cell door slightly ajar and I escaped. I transformed into a bird and flew as my own progeny tried to kill me. My heart was breaking because my offspring would forever be attached to the Hexen. I could not change their fate. I located a group of Changelings who remembered the story of Pha-al though they somehow inverted the name to Al-pha. We stayed far away from the Hexen and my manipulated children. I cried bitter tears and regretted my yearning to become a parent.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Sunday, February 24, 2013
SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER FIVE
PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a fictional story.
Mortality was my enemy. I tearfully watched as the souls of people that I cared about leave their body. The spirit would sometimes appear as a small orb or shifting mass of tiny lights. As the soul drifted away from the body I discovered that I could grasp it without harm. I would sometimes feel a slight shock or warmth but it wasn’t a negative experience. Sadly, I could not return my dearly departed’s essence to their mortal coil. I would release the soul and it would drift away. Their life was too brief.
None of my children lived beyond a few breaths of air. I tried mating with several types of Changelings, Blanks, Hybrids, and humans. To no avail, I just buried my progeny and it hurt my heart. I raised abandoned children to reduce my loneliness. It was enjoyable to watch them grow but inevitably they would die. I still desired for a baby of my own blood and body. Many eons passed, days seemed much like each other.
With a heart tired of mourning, I began to wander the beautiful land between the Adriatic and Aegean Seas. I altered my physical facade to blend in with the local people. At the foot of Mount Parnassos in Greece, I found a sanctuary inland from the Iteas Bay. Delphi was the center of the world. Women who practiced positive sorcery were elevated to the position of High Priestess referred to as the Oracle named Pythia. The Oracle would enter a sacred space in the temple, breath holy fumes, fall into a trance, and predict the future for pilgrims who paid money to learn of their fate. Leaders and ordinary citizens held utter confidence in Pythia's opinion. No vital decision was determined without conferring with the celebrant.
I became a devotee and spent many years at the temple serving the Oracle who was the emissary of Apollo, the god of light, harmony and order. He was preceded by Gaia/Ge and Themis but usurped their maternal power when he slew an enormous python snake-dragon. The sanctuary was established to honor his battle as the fumes of the dead beast supplied the visions to the Oracle. The Amphictyonic League existed to administer the sacred sanctuary and designate the magical female officiates and other employees chosen from among the local residents.
The temple’s hierarchy considered certain snakes to be powerful. I would transform into a bird of prey to capture these reptiles alive. Venemous krait, cobra or another elapids were highly prized. I was praised when I presented these vipers to the shrine and sometimes awarded a session with the cryptic Seer. Unfortunately, one of the League’s servants saw me convert into a bird and sought to curry favor by informing the local coven mistress.
The coven learned and exploited my vulnerabilities. I was eventually captured, moved outside of the League’s reach, and enslaved by coven mistress Tanis. She desperately wanted to become the Oracle and abuse the role to rule the world. The members of the League refused to appoint her to the position of sage. Tanis was a skilled negative witch who governed her followers with brutality. She would place destructive hexes upon anyone who displeased her with the exception of the League. She was certain that I could teach her to be a Changeling so that she could coerce the League to select her. She had me beaten, tortured, and there was no escape. I wished for death to liberate me from the agony of incarceration.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Mortality was my enemy. I tearfully watched as the souls of people that I cared about leave their body. The spirit would sometimes appear as a small orb or shifting mass of tiny lights. As the soul drifted away from the body I discovered that I could grasp it without harm. I would sometimes feel a slight shock or warmth but it wasn’t a negative experience. Sadly, I could not return my dearly departed’s essence to their mortal coil. I would release the soul and it would drift away. Their life was too brief.
None of my children lived beyond a few breaths of air. I tried mating with several types of Changelings, Blanks, Hybrids, and humans. To no avail, I just buried my progeny and it hurt my heart. I raised abandoned children to reduce my loneliness. It was enjoyable to watch them grow but inevitably they would die. I still desired for a baby of my own blood and body. Many eons passed, days seemed much like each other.
With a heart tired of mourning, I began to wander the beautiful land between the Adriatic and Aegean Seas. I altered my physical facade to blend in with the local people. At the foot of Mount Parnassos in Greece, I found a sanctuary inland from the Iteas Bay. Delphi was the center of the world. Women who practiced positive sorcery were elevated to the position of High Priestess referred to as the Oracle named Pythia. The Oracle would enter a sacred space in the temple, breath holy fumes, fall into a trance, and predict the future for pilgrims who paid money to learn of their fate. Leaders and ordinary citizens held utter confidence in Pythia's opinion. No vital decision was determined without conferring with the celebrant.
I became a devotee and spent many years at the temple serving the Oracle who was the emissary of Apollo, the god of light, harmony and order. He was preceded by Gaia/Ge and Themis but usurped their maternal power when he slew an enormous python snake-dragon. The sanctuary was established to honor his battle as the fumes of the dead beast supplied the visions to the Oracle. The Amphictyonic League existed to administer the sacred sanctuary and designate the magical female officiates and other employees chosen from among the local residents.
The temple’s hierarchy considered certain snakes to be powerful. I would transform into a bird of prey to capture these reptiles alive. Venemous krait, cobra or another elapids were highly prized. I was praised when I presented these vipers to the shrine and sometimes awarded a session with the cryptic Seer. Unfortunately, one of the League’s servants saw me convert into a bird and sought to curry favor by informing the local coven mistress.
The coven learned and exploited my vulnerabilities. I was eventually captured, moved outside of the League’s reach, and enslaved by coven mistress Tanis. She desperately wanted to become the Oracle and abuse the role to rule the world. The members of the League refused to appoint her to the position of sage. Tanis was a skilled negative witch who governed her followers with brutality. She would place destructive hexes upon anyone who displeased her with the exception of the League. She was certain that I could teach her to be a Changeling so that she could coerce the League to select her. She had me beaten, tortured, and there was no escape. I wished for death to liberate me from the agony of incarceration.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Friday, February 22, 2013
SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER FOUR
PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. Rough draft of a fictional narrative.
Shortly after I was born, my mother died from poisoning caused by the exposure to crude oil and whatever chemicals were ground up for her to consume. Teng-se was a Shaman and my father, Foulan-sa, was the hunter-gatherer Blank that she loved. My mother’s family raised me but I spent time with my father’s clan. I was blessed with vital health as a child; I didn’t become ill and healed very quickly from injuries. My wounds only needed to be cleaned and they mended with no scars.
My petite muscular human form is less than five feet in height with short hair all over my body. Pubescent hormones revealed my fate, Blank or Changeling? Happily, I took to the sky. I developed control over the Eagle-Changeling transformation very quickly. However, it didn’t end there. The surging hormones triggered my DNA so that I could transform at will into any Changeling-species. More surprisingly, I retained enough of my human sensibilities to be aware and retain what I did as an animal Changeling. My name is Pha-al.
I quickly mastered the shifting and would play with whatever breed I wished. Because the community held my family in esteem, I was accepted as an oddity. Much to my kin’s chagrin, I would fly out of the valley to explore the upper plains. It was much like ours except for the dead zones. The earth would be stripped of vegetation and turned into biting black rock. Our valley continued to be shaken by minor earthquakes. All but one of the streams dried up and the spring water became undrinkable before it stopped flowing. We made regular offerings to the moon and sun to ask for rain. Our survival depended upon it.
Smoke rose high into the sky and ash fell down upon us more frequently. I decided to venture into the distant mountains. On one of my aerial trips I discovered that mountains could spit fire. Their heaving lava caused the dead zones. The streams of reddish-orange fire-rock were moving closer and closer to our valley. Soon, it would flow into our home. I flew home and shared what I learned. Some of the tribe listened and others thought that I was silly. I had gathered biting black rocks, as proof, but many members of our tribe were skeptical. I did not have the physical strength to carry an adult out of the valley to view the volcano.
The few who believed me worked to construct long rope ladders from vines and tree bark fiber. After several moons of labor, I grabbed an end of the rope and flew it to the top of the shortest section of the north side of the cliff and secured the ladder to a strong tree. My cousin bravely climbed the shaky structure to the top and helped me to latch the ladder more securely. A small contingent of the tribe ventured up the ladder. We walked to view where the black rock had crept onto the upper plains. After much discussion, we returned and let our kinfolk know that it was time to leave our valley home.
More ladders were quickly erected. One by one daring members of the tribe climbed the rope with a child or provisions attached to their back. Several became scared and had to be coaxed to the top and a few died in their attempt to escape. We could not climb at night or on rainy days. The strongest members hauled up supplies because we didn’t know what was in the greater world. We only knew that we had to escape pending doom.
The first ascenders moved away from the volcano as the tribe began their journey out of the valley and upper plains. Two turns of the moon passed and the most cynical members of the tribe remained at the bottom of the cliff, including some members of my family. The earth shook more and ash rained down almost every day. Finally, a chunk of the mountain blew off, rushed down its slope, though the plains, and into the valley. As our valley filled, I watched helplessly as my father and others were swept away by the debris. The rush of air was intense and I had to fly away. There was nothing that I could do. The roar of the pyroclastic flow still haunts my dreams.
We mourned our losses. Our tribe was no longer one unit. We split into Changelings-genus groups and compatible sub-species traveled together. We moved off into every direction and felt sorrow for parting. I joined a group of diverse species. I would fly ahead and scout the lay of the land. We slowly traversed mountain ranges, valleys, rivers, and dry lands. Our valley home no longer existed.
We encountered all types of beasts and other homids, including humans. Precious few human cultures accepted us so we did not dare to live openly. Changelings quickly adapted to hide our uniqueness from non-Changelings. Some Changelings found ways to manipulate the humans into believing that they were Gods. I did not approve of this practice and would force the group to end their self-appointed divinity. Unfortunately, the deities and their stories continued long after the Changelings left the area.
I learned how to adjust my manifestation to blend in with our evolution into human as we became taller, stouter, and less hairy. I could even appear as a male, when needed. I only became tired when I had to frequently switch back and forth between animal and human forms. It takes a lot of calories to alter my appearance and I would need to eat. Millenniums passed and I became a nomad, moving from one Changeling community to another or spending time in splendid isolation as a hermit.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
FYI: Grimm fan page at https://www.facebook.com/#!/groups/337819579639347/
Evolving in fiction
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Shortly after I was born, my mother died from poisoning caused by the exposure to crude oil and whatever chemicals were ground up for her to consume. Teng-se was a Shaman and my father, Foulan-sa, was the hunter-gatherer Blank that she loved. My mother’s family raised me but I spent time with my father’s clan. I was blessed with vital health as a child; I didn’t become ill and healed very quickly from injuries. My wounds only needed to be cleaned and they mended with no scars.
My petite muscular human form is less than five feet in height with short hair all over my body. Pubescent hormones revealed my fate, Blank or Changeling? Happily, I took to the sky. I developed control over the Eagle-Changeling transformation very quickly. However, it didn’t end there. The surging hormones triggered my DNA so that I could transform at will into any Changeling-species. More surprisingly, I retained enough of my human sensibilities to be aware and retain what I did as an animal Changeling. My name is Pha-al.
I quickly mastered the shifting and would play with whatever breed I wished. Because the community held my family in esteem, I was accepted as an oddity. Much to my kin’s chagrin, I would fly out of the valley to explore the upper plains. It was much like ours except for the dead zones. The earth would be stripped of vegetation and turned into biting black rock. Our valley continued to be shaken by minor earthquakes. All but one of the streams dried up and the spring water became undrinkable before it stopped flowing. We made regular offerings to the moon and sun to ask for rain. Our survival depended upon it.
Smoke rose high into the sky and ash fell down upon us more frequently. I decided to venture into the distant mountains. On one of my aerial trips I discovered that mountains could spit fire. Their heaving lava caused the dead zones. The streams of reddish-orange fire-rock were moving closer and closer to our valley. Soon, it would flow into our home. I flew home and shared what I learned. Some of the tribe listened and others thought that I was silly. I had gathered biting black rocks, as proof, but many members of our tribe were skeptical. I did not have the physical strength to carry an adult out of the valley to view the volcano.
The few who believed me worked to construct long rope ladders from vines and tree bark fiber. After several moons of labor, I grabbed an end of the rope and flew it to the top of the shortest section of the north side of the cliff and secured the ladder to a strong tree. My cousin bravely climbed the shaky structure to the top and helped me to latch the ladder more securely. A small contingent of the tribe ventured up the ladder. We walked to view where the black rock had crept onto the upper plains. After much discussion, we returned and let our kinfolk know that it was time to leave our valley home.
More ladders were quickly erected. One by one daring members of the tribe climbed the rope with a child or provisions attached to their back. Several became scared and had to be coaxed to the top and a few died in their attempt to escape. We could not climb at night or on rainy days. The strongest members hauled up supplies because we didn’t know what was in the greater world. We only knew that we had to escape pending doom.
The first ascenders moved away from the volcano as the tribe began their journey out of the valley and upper plains. Two turns of the moon passed and the most cynical members of the tribe remained at the bottom of the cliff, including some members of my family. The earth shook more and ash rained down almost every day. Finally, a chunk of the mountain blew off, rushed down its slope, though the plains, and into the valley. As our valley filled, I watched helplessly as my father and others were swept away by the debris. The rush of air was intense and I had to fly away. There was nothing that I could do. The roar of the pyroclastic flow still haunts my dreams.
We mourned our losses. Our tribe was no longer one unit. We split into Changelings-genus groups and compatible sub-species traveled together. We moved off into every direction and felt sorrow for parting. I joined a group of diverse species. I would fly ahead and scout the lay of the land. We slowly traversed mountain ranges, valleys, rivers, and dry lands. Our valley home no longer existed.
We encountered all types of beasts and other homids, including humans. Precious few human cultures accepted us so we did not dare to live openly. Changelings quickly adapted to hide our uniqueness from non-Changelings. Some Changelings found ways to manipulate the humans into believing that they were Gods. I did not approve of this practice and would force the group to end their self-appointed divinity. Unfortunately, the deities and their stories continued long after the Changelings left the area.
I learned how to adjust my manifestation to blend in with our evolution into human as we became taller, stouter, and less hairy. I could even appear as a male, when needed. I only became tired when I had to frequently switch back and forth between animal and human forms. It takes a lot of calories to alter my appearance and I would need to eat. Millenniums passed and I became a nomad, moving from one Changeling community to another or spending time in splendid isolation as a hermit.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
FYI: Grimm fan page at https://www.facebook.com/#!/groups/337819579639347/
Evolving in fiction
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER THREE
PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a fictional story, rough draft.
The alteration was gradual, so plodding slow that it was accepted as normal. Interbreeding with kin amplified the genetic mutation, cause unknown. It started with sporadic growth of fur, scales, or feathers for a short while and then the person would return to their normal human appearance. Eventually, members of the community would completely transform into another animal and leap off into the jungle or take flight. They would return later and have very vague memories but sometimes they never came home. These members of the tribe became known as Changelings.
Once in a while a Changeling would be killed because a non-transformed tribe member didn’t recognize the animal as kith or kin. Conversely, the animal-Changeling would sometimes harm or kill humans due to having the mind of a beast. Children remained human until the hormones trigger the Changeling tendencies as they entered puberty. The maturation process can be quite volatile. Due to the complexities involved with conversion, Changeling children go through a process called Fledging to learn to take command their emotions, the proverbial gaining of wings. Once they are fledged, they gained access the full range of their abilities. They can retain some human sensibilities when partially altered as compared to a complete transformation into the animal form. Otherwise, their skills are limited by emotional upheaval.
Changelings gravitated to the same kind. Monkeys with monkeys, lizards with lizards, spiders with spiders, and their progeny would be just like their parents. If they mated with a regular human, the surviving kids were considered to be Blank. Blanks possessed about half of the heightened senses of the Changeling but could not modify their appearance. When Changelings of different breeds mixed genetically, most of their children were stillborn or died soon after birth. If the child did live, it would be a Hybrid. The Hybrids were dangerous because they felt no allegiance to either Changeling-species and were prone to violence. It became forbidden for Changelings to mate outside their sub-species.
A direct descendent of the famous Tlsa-se was the young and talented Teng-se. She had grown up amongst her intellectual family and leaders of the Eagle Changeling clan. She had the privilege of being the bearer of Moon’s Shine for sacred ceremonies and healing sessions. Teng-se was rebellious and developed an illicit romance. She already had several children but this relationship was different. Her desire for Foulan-sa, a Blank, was strong. Her heart quivered every time she saw him. They had intertwined their bodies on myriad occasions and she could feel that she was pregnant. She hoped the news would make him happy. However, right now she had to gather some Moon’s Shine for her father to use on a patient. She took the sacred Moon Holder and walked across the valley to the Pool of the Moon. The small deep puddle contained a horrid smelling substance. It was black as night and shimmered like the light from a full moon upon the water. The ooze was thick and would burn with noxious smoke when placed in fire. A tiny speck of the black substance would shimmer like a rainbow when touched to the surface water. It was powerful magic.
Teng-se brought along her two eldest children. They were still learning how to properly collect Moon’s Shine. As they approached the pool, the children laid offerings and she smiled as they sung the thank you for the medicine mantra off-key. Teng-se knelt to scoop the black light into the Moon Holder basket. A funny monkey distracted the children who giggled and bumped into her. Teng-se fell headfirst into darkness. As she struggled, the thick oily mess only drew her in deeper. The children managed to grasp her foot and drag her from the deadly pit of tar. Her bones would not mingle that day with the animals that had already sunk to the bottom of the petrol pond.
Teng-se gasped and gulped down some of the noxious tar. She could barely breath, her senses were muted and she was frightened. Forgetting the Moon Holder, the children slowly led her back home. All the other patients were dismissed. Her father and Healer kin spent hours scraping off the gooey mess as she suffered. Curative rocks called sunlight were crushed and used to scrub away the remaining tar. A special tincture of the finely ground therapeutic stone was brewed with herbs. She consumed the bitter tasting potion to dissolve the tar in her stomach. The ongoing treatment was revolting and she struggled to endure each day. The child growing inside her was forever altered.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
The alteration was gradual, so plodding slow that it was accepted as normal. Interbreeding with kin amplified the genetic mutation, cause unknown. It started with sporadic growth of fur, scales, or feathers for a short while and then the person would return to their normal human appearance. Eventually, members of the community would completely transform into another animal and leap off into the jungle or take flight. They would return later and have very vague memories but sometimes they never came home. These members of the tribe became known as Changelings.
Once in a while a Changeling would be killed because a non-transformed tribe member didn’t recognize the animal as kith or kin. Conversely, the animal-Changeling would sometimes harm or kill humans due to having the mind of a beast. Children remained human until the hormones trigger the Changeling tendencies as they entered puberty. The maturation process can be quite volatile. Due to the complexities involved with conversion, Changeling children go through a process called Fledging to learn to take command their emotions, the proverbial gaining of wings. Once they are fledged, they gained access the full range of their abilities. They can retain some human sensibilities when partially altered as compared to a complete transformation into the animal form. Otherwise, their skills are limited by emotional upheaval.
Changelings gravitated to the same kind. Monkeys with monkeys, lizards with lizards, spiders with spiders, and their progeny would be just like their parents. If they mated with a regular human, the surviving kids were considered to be Blank. Blanks possessed about half of the heightened senses of the Changeling but could not modify their appearance. When Changelings of different breeds mixed genetically, most of their children were stillborn or died soon after birth. If the child did live, it would be a Hybrid. The Hybrids were dangerous because they felt no allegiance to either Changeling-species and were prone to violence. It became forbidden for Changelings to mate outside their sub-species.
A direct descendent of the famous Tlsa-se was the young and talented Teng-se. She had grown up amongst her intellectual family and leaders of the Eagle Changeling clan. She had the privilege of being the bearer of Moon’s Shine for sacred ceremonies and healing sessions. Teng-se was rebellious and developed an illicit romance. She already had several children but this relationship was different. Her desire for Foulan-sa, a Blank, was strong. Her heart quivered every time she saw him. They had intertwined their bodies on myriad occasions and she could feel that she was pregnant. She hoped the news would make him happy. However, right now she had to gather some Moon’s Shine for her father to use on a patient. She took the sacred Moon Holder and walked across the valley to the Pool of the Moon. The small deep puddle contained a horrid smelling substance. It was black as night and shimmered like the light from a full moon upon the water. The ooze was thick and would burn with noxious smoke when placed in fire. A tiny speck of the black substance would shimmer like a rainbow when touched to the surface water. It was powerful magic.
Teng-se brought along her two eldest children. They were still learning how to properly collect Moon’s Shine. As they approached the pool, the children laid offerings and she smiled as they sung the thank you for the medicine mantra off-key. Teng-se knelt to scoop the black light into the Moon Holder basket. A funny monkey distracted the children who giggled and bumped into her. Teng-se fell headfirst into darkness. As she struggled, the thick oily mess only drew her in deeper. The children managed to grasp her foot and drag her from the deadly pit of tar. Her bones would not mingle that day with the animals that had already sunk to the bottom of the petrol pond.
Teng-se gasped and gulped down some of the noxious tar. She could barely breath, her senses were muted and she was frightened. Forgetting the Moon Holder, the children slowly led her back home. All the other patients were dismissed. Her father and Healer kin spent hours scraping off the gooey mess as she suffered. Curative rocks called sunlight were crushed and used to scrub away the remaining tar. A special tincture of the finely ground therapeutic stone was brewed with herbs. She consumed the bitter tasting potion to dissolve the tar in her stomach. The ongoing treatment was revolting and she struggled to endure each day. The child growing inside her was forever altered.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Monday, February 18, 2013
SWITCHBACK - CHAPTER TWO
PLEASE START WITH CHAPTER ONE, published on February 16th, 2013. This is a fictional tale.
It was no Garden of Eden. Though the upper plains and valley were blessed with sufficient assets, survival was a minute-by-minute struggle. Every day you had to obtain food, water, and safe shelter. You were always aware of threats. The Pioneer Clan absorbed the homids who survived the expedition. The mixed genetics evolved into a distinctive culture and copulation was our legacy. We had to make certain that the next generation learned enough to survive and reproduce. There was little time for entertainment except on a rare evening when we would gather around the fire to share stories. We passed along the story of our journey via oral tradition from generation to generation.
The traditional healers, the shaman, would gather flora, fauna, roots, and bark during specific conditions to mend the hurts of the members of the tribe. Their knowledge was passed from parent to child and Tlsa-se was a risk taker. She learned from her predecessors the essentials and then experimented with new cures. She found many new ways to heal though occasionally she would harm or kill a patient with the treatment. The valley was a natural pharmacy, almost all the curative plants they needed were present as well as sunlight and moonlight. She taught her offspring the way of the shaman and made certain that they respected the power of comprehension. Medicine could be used as a weapon, too.
After the monsoons ended and the well-worn trail dried, the tribe would move out of the valley. The clans would thrive in the growth of the plains until the heat drove them back to the valley. Each tribe had returned into their summer home and was enjoying the bounty while hot sunshine burned the plains. They traded, mated, and shared information. Quarrels would occur but since everyone was related, blood rarely dampened the ground. It was Tlsa-se’s busiest time of the year because other family-tribes would seek her to treat their ailments.
Tlsa-se was busy making a poultice for a woman who had an infected wound on her arm. Suddenly, the ground shook and the sky began to fall. Members of the tribe ran to each other for comfort. Trees toppled over and Tlsa-se feared that the world was ending. She prayed to the sun, earth and moon to protect her kith and kin. A horrible roar filled the peaceful valley and dust rose into the air making them choke and gasp for air. When the shaking finally ended and the dust settled, a group gathered near her. They didn’t know where else to go. She and her kin tended injuries and provided comfort. It was too late for the dead. A young male covered with dust and holding his broken arm, limped to her home. Tears rolled down his dirty face while describing his personal tragedy. He had been hunting a snake with his two sisters near the south wall when the earthquake began. The cliff face gave way and crushed his siblings. The pathway was no more. The whole tribe was stranded in the valley.
The story of the rumbling earth was verbally passed down from generation to generation. Tlsa-se was elevated to a hero who stopped the rocks from crushing everyone. Many iterations of her children continued the healing and counseling of the thriving tribe. The fertile valley offered enough to survive. Occasionally, the torrential rains would flood the lowest end but the tribe would move to higher ground until it drained away. The earth would still shake, sky would darken, and the volcanoes would scatter dust but they survived. Even though two of the streams dried up, they had enough water to endure as they incrementally became human.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
It was no Garden of Eden. Though the upper plains and valley were blessed with sufficient assets, survival was a minute-by-minute struggle. Every day you had to obtain food, water, and safe shelter. You were always aware of threats. The Pioneer Clan absorbed the homids who survived the expedition. The mixed genetics evolved into a distinctive culture and copulation was our legacy. We had to make certain that the next generation learned enough to survive and reproduce. There was little time for entertainment except on a rare evening when we would gather around the fire to share stories. We passed along the story of our journey via oral tradition from generation to generation.
The traditional healers, the shaman, would gather flora, fauna, roots, and bark during specific conditions to mend the hurts of the members of the tribe. Their knowledge was passed from parent to child and Tlsa-se was a risk taker. She learned from her predecessors the essentials and then experimented with new cures. She found many new ways to heal though occasionally she would harm or kill a patient with the treatment. The valley was a natural pharmacy, almost all the curative plants they needed were present as well as sunlight and moonlight. She taught her offspring the way of the shaman and made certain that they respected the power of comprehension. Medicine could be used as a weapon, too.
After the monsoons ended and the well-worn trail dried, the tribe would move out of the valley. The clans would thrive in the growth of the plains until the heat drove them back to the valley. Each tribe had returned into their summer home and was enjoying the bounty while hot sunshine burned the plains. They traded, mated, and shared information. Quarrels would occur but since everyone was related, blood rarely dampened the ground. It was Tlsa-se’s busiest time of the year because other family-tribes would seek her to treat their ailments.
Tlsa-se was busy making a poultice for a woman who had an infected wound on her arm. Suddenly, the ground shook and the sky began to fall. Members of the tribe ran to each other for comfort. Trees toppled over and Tlsa-se feared that the world was ending. She prayed to the sun, earth and moon to protect her kith and kin. A horrible roar filled the peaceful valley and dust rose into the air making them choke and gasp for air. When the shaking finally ended and the dust settled, a group gathered near her. They didn’t know where else to go. She and her kin tended injuries and provided comfort. It was too late for the dead. A young male covered with dust and holding his broken arm, limped to her home. Tears rolled down his dirty face while describing his personal tragedy. He had been hunting a snake with his two sisters near the south wall when the earthquake began. The cliff face gave way and crushed his siblings. The pathway was no more. The whole tribe was stranded in the valley.
The story of the rumbling earth was verbally passed down from generation to generation. Tlsa-se was elevated to a hero who stopped the rocks from crushing everyone. Many iterations of her children continued the healing and counseling of the thriving tribe. The fertile valley offered enough to survive. Occasionally, the torrential rains would flood the lowest end but the tribe would move to higher ground until it drained away. The earth would still shake, sky would darken, and the volcanoes would scatter dust but they survived. Even though two of the streams dried up, they had enough water to endure as they incrementally became human.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
Saturday, February 16, 2013
SWITCHBACK - THE CHANGELING STORY: Chapter One
This is a rough draft of a fictional origination story of a sci-fi/fantasy/cop-drama show, Grimm on NBC. I have not watched every episode due to the sporadic airing of the program. The episodes are available online but I am vexed with a slow Internet connection. I enjoy the show’s story line though it is degraded by gratuitous violence. A chapter of this brief novella will be posted every other day.
This is my first attempt at creative fictional writing, merely a preliminary plotline sketch so please be kind…
SWITCHBACK - THE CHANGELING STORY: Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
In the way back long–ago, there was a community of bipedal homids. They traversed the land mostly by walking on two feet instead of leaping from tree to tree. They belonged to the same species that developed into Homo sapiens or modern day humans. Family-clan groups were the core of their community. They resided in a thickly forested jungle area laced with expanding patches of savannah plains. The clans seasonally migrated with other animals to obtain food, water, and shelter. Encounters between clans were rarely neutral. Positive would involve trade, sharing of information, and genetic material. Negative could result in theft, physical harm or death.
Life was a struggle. Almost half the offspring died before puberty. Adults frequently expired due to accident, illness, conflict, or were killed by other animals. Living until the old age of twenty was a rarity. The seasons would cycle from too much rain, abundance, extended dryness, and then return to the deluge of monsoon. The rhythm of existence was harsh but despite the challenges, the population gradually grew. Disputes between clans and animals increased as the land’s resources were stretched to feed more mouths.
The homid’s territory was large, but one range of high hills was off limits to all clans. Occasionally, the mountains beyond the hills would belch black smoke and glow orange at night. Bitter evil ash would occasionally fall from the sky when the wind would blow from the north. However, scarcity forced one clan to break taboo and forge a path through the hills. A few years later, some members of the pioneering clan returned with a tale of profuse resources. The pressures of overpopulation had amplified during their absence. The pioneers convinced several desperately hungry clans to join them in the unexploited territory.
Traversing the trail proved to be perilous. Food and water were not always available, rockslides were common, and predators would attack the vulnerable trekkers. Many people died during the journey deeper into the mountains. A rockslide in a narrow gorge crushed and injured many of the travelers. There was no turning back because immovable boulders blocked their return path. The only way was forward and clan members wearily marched northward.
Entering a beautiful terra firma rewarded their arduous journey. The high plain was at a greater elevation but not high enough to frost during the cool months. How could this land be considered taboo? Like other animals, the homids moved with the season seeking a safe area to procure nutrition, water, shelter, and raise their young. They journeyed in their family-groups throughout the new region. They grew accustomed to the rumble of minor earthquakes and infrequent eruptions of the neighboring volcanoes. The groups would annually converge in a deep valley located on the eastern edge of the plain to wait out the driest part of the seasonal cycle.
The valley was a large gorge formed by violent earthquake long before the homids arrived. The walls were steep on all sides except for one entrance on its south wall. The passageway was treacherous; the slender footpath sometimes claimed the life of one or more band members when they moved up or down its terrain. The dangerous journey was worth the blood. The valley was lush with food and few predators while the plain above baked in the dry sun. The clan was mostly vegetarian and would occasionally eat small insects, fish, or other animals to supplement their diet. Several small streams fell from the cliff walls and coalesced into a traversable river in the valley. A spring-fed stream dribbled out from the west wall and drained into a small lake in the lowest level of the valley before it trickled through a winding gap to the sea. The cleft was too constricted for even a child to pass. The homids would migrate out of the valley after the monsoon season refreshed the food sources in the expansive plain above the valley. Thus, our story begins.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
This is my first attempt at creative fictional writing, merely a preliminary plotline sketch so please be kind…
SWITCHBACK - THE CHANGELING STORY: Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
In the way back long–ago, there was a community of bipedal homids. They traversed the land mostly by walking on two feet instead of leaping from tree to tree. They belonged to the same species that developed into Homo sapiens or modern day humans. Family-clan groups were the core of their community. They resided in a thickly forested jungle area laced with expanding patches of savannah plains. The clans seasonally migrated with other animals to obtain food, water, and shelter. Encounters between clans were rarely neutral. Positive would involve trade, sharing of information, and genetic material. Negative could result in theft, physical harm or death.
Life was a struggle. Almost half the offspring died before puberty. Adults frequently expired due to accident, illness, conflict, or were killed by other animals. Living until the old age of twenty was a rarity. The seasons would cycle from too much rain, abundance, extended dryness, and then return to the deluge of monsoon. The rhythm of existence was harsh but despite the challenges, the population gradually grew. Disputes between clans and animals increased as the land’s resources were stretched to feed more mouths.
The homid’s territory was large, but one range of high hills was off limits to all clans. Occasionally, the mountains beyond the hills would belch black smoke and glow orange at night. Bitter evil ash would occasionally fall from the sky when the wind would blow from the north. However, scarcity forced one clan to break taboo and forge a path through the hills. A few years later, some members of the pioneering clan returned with a tale of profuse resources. The pressures of overpopulation had amplified during their absence. The pioneers convinced several desperately hungry clans to join them in the unexploited territory.
Traversing the trail proved to be perilous. Food and water were not always available, rockslides were common, and predators would attack the vulnerable trekkers. Many people died during the journey deeper into the mountains. A rockslide in a narrow gorge crushed and injured many of the travelers. There was no turning back because immovable boulders blocked their return path. The only way was forward and clan members wearily marched northward.
Entering a beautiful terra firma rewarded their arduous journey. The high plain was at a greater elevation but not high enough to frost during the cool months. How could this land be considered taboo? Like other animals, the homids moved with the season seeking a safe area to procure nutrition, water, shelter, and raise their young. They journeyed in their family-groups throughout the new region. They grew accustomed to the rumble of minor earthquakes and infrequent eruptions of the neighboring volcanoes. The groups would annually converge in a deep valley located on the eastern edge of the plain to wait out the driest part of the seasonal cycle.
The valley was a large gorge formed by violent earthquake long before the homids arrived. The walls were steep on all sides except for one entrance on its south wall. The passageway was treacherous; the slender footpath sometimes claimed the life of one or more band members when they moved up or down its terrain. The dangerous journey was worth the blood. The valley was lush with food and few predators while the plain above baked in the dry sun. The clan was mostly vegetarian and would occasionally eat small insects, fish, or other animals to supplement their diet. Several small streams fell from the cliff walls and coalesced into a traversable river in the valley. A spring-fed stream dribbled out from the west wall and drained into a small lake in the lowest level of the valley before it trickled through a winding gap to the sea. The cleft was too constricted for even a child to pass. The homids would migrate out of the valley after the monsoon season refreshed the food sources in the expansive plain above the valley. Thus, our story begins.
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE PUBLISHED SOON.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
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