Updates & Posts – Page 28 – Kris Charles

Fate of Magics: Meet Eil Orenda

Fate of Magics

Meet Eilo Orenda

The blood lay upon my hands; I prayed to my goddess that it was a dream, a nightmare, but it wasn’t… I wanted to throw up. I did the magic. I preformed dark magic. I never… I never had done black magic. I never have done anything, but the lighter magics. I was a Sun Warlock. I was a healer. A teacher. Not this. But I panicked. I need my magic; it is a part of my very being. I would die without it. So, I picked up the only dark book that my family had ever owned. It had one ritual in it. One. This one. Rumors are there are three different rituals. Each family guarding one. This was my family’s burden. And I betrayed my ancestors. I performed the forbidden.

When the seer went to the Magical President and Congress and told of the prophecy. When the Majority Leader, Senator Cham, got on the news and told us all about the end of magic the devastation was clear. Many people had screamed, cried, killed themselves. But I knew of the ritual. I knew that I had to keep my magic. I had to, or I would die in the mundane world without it. I had carved out my life, my existence, based upon magic. I was a healer! A doctor! I used my magic to destroy things that still effected the mundane world! Without magic we would never come up with mundane means of curing things that no longer exist in our world. Our people would die as young as the mundane and not leave hundreds of years as we did now. We wouldn’t have time to expand out knowledge. A mortal life span of an average of forty years was not something that would be taken well. From hundreds of years to just a few short years. Most of the magical children would die. If one lived to be thirty they had a chance at maybe hitting sixty. To many illnesses to fight without magic. Our people would die. Not to mention the witch hunts. The mundane people were killing their own people because they dared be different. We worshiped the gods and goddesses. We worshiped nature. We thanked nature. We used nature to heal. To hurt. To live. To die. Our people wouldn’t be able to hide it forever and from here in London to the colonies, our people would die, murdered for being themselves. Murdered for not being Christian. I shuddered in that thought. I would have to hide myself, and the only way I knew how was to use my magic to hide my life style, to hide my beliefs, to hide my long life, to hide everything. So, I pulled the three-page book from the hidden vault of my family. I would do what was needed to keep my magic.

Over the next year the Senators went to their people, they started preparing them to live in the mundane world, spells were woven, rituals preformed, and offerings given. People had to start over, the currencies were different, the society was different. Less advanced. I took ‘medical’ classes in the mundane world, trying to figure out where they were, it was boring. Their ‘advancements’ were jokes. We had found these same advancements hundreds of years ago. So, now I would have to watch people die. Magic would be gone from the land. I would have mine, but mine would not be enough to save our people. Most of our healing magics took the magic of the person being healed. Mundane humans don’t have enough magic in their bodies to be able to use the cures. It will take centuries of work for me to figure out how to save magicless people the same way I do now. I will be in for a lot of failure. But at least I will have the chance to discover it. At least that was my view until I lay here with the blood upon my hands.

The blood lay upon my hands; I prayed to my goddess that it was a dream, a nightmare, but it wasn’t… I wanted to throw up. I did the magic. I preformed dark magic. I took seven Sun Magic users, seven innocents, and I cut out their hearts and while I used their magic to keep them alive, I drained their life blood from their hearts, I drained it into a black gold goblet with the symbol of Death upon it, the upside down Ankh and the Scarab Beetle mocked me the whole time. Death Magic was the ultimate darkness. But I drained their life blood into the goblet. I dropped their drained hearts back into their chest. When I drained their life blood their magic was in there as well. I then slit my wrist and allowed a half of pint of my blood to mix with theirs. My hands were blood stained as I called upon death offering their deaths as my sacrifice to keep my magic. I felt Death. Death was there with me. I closed my eyes and drained the goblet, drinking their blood and my own. With that the innocents died and I felt Death’s acceptance as I fell to my knees staring at my hands, the empty goblet now lying beside me. What had I done?

Meet Eira Cham: Fates of Magic

Fate of Magics

Meet Eira Cham

I couldn’t live without my magic. I couldn’t. There was a Black ritual. A ritual that had been banned. It was dark. Evil. But I couldn’t be ‘normal’. My mind spit the word like it was a curse word. I couldn’t be that. That would be a horrible existence. But a seer has predicted the end of magic. I can’t go without magic. I look down at my family book. There is a reason my family was feared. Before we hid in the White. Black magic. White magic. Grey Magic. Red, Pink, Byzantium, and Sun Magics. They are all the same. Power. And my family mastered them all. Except Black, Red, Byzantium Magics were banned as evil and grey was barely tolerated. My family being political did a public denouncing of the ‘dark’ and embraced the ‘light’. I snorted. Never trust a politician.

I don’t want to know what they would do if they realized that most of the Black magic was hidden Death Magic. Life magic was easy. Death Magic took sacrifice. Lots and lots of sacrifice. I called my ritual Black Magic. But in truth it was Death Magic. Death Magic even I fear, and I am a ruthless Ice Queen. One that the magical society knows not to go up against. I have risen from a girl from the bad side of town, to a senator on the magical congress. I should be planning my campaign for magical president. Instead, we know the death of magic. And I look that the life blood of these horrific criminals. They wouldn’t be missed. I could have used innocents, light magic users but they would be noticed. So, I just had to use seven times as many. Forty-nine bodies drained of their life blood. Magic keeping their hearts pumping, even as their chest cavities are cut open. I wasn’t after their heart, though rumors stated that one such ritual used the hearts of seven Light users, I was after their manifestation of their souls and magic.

I looked at the tub that held 441 pints of blood. Four was a magic number. It represented the four elements of life that made up the fifth. The magic of the 49 souls that gave me the 441 pints of blood would help manifest and represent the fifth element. I would have to combine three pints of my blood and offer up my magic, all to keep the very thing that makes me feel alive. So, I stripped and sat in the pool of blood. As I was submerged but for my head and wrists. I took a deep breath and called my magic to create a ball representing my magic. A ball of ice formed and in the center was a small blue burning flame. But the ice protected it. For as hot as a blue flame was, ice could burn just as badly. I took a deep breath and brought the athame to my wrists. I cut deep to allow the blood to flow. I submerged myself into the tub fully. I held my breath and brought the magic of the sacrifices into my ball of magic, the ball grew bright white as the flame in the center grew stronger, burning. The ice around it fighting to show it was stronger. I brought my hands out of the tub and then grabbed the ball of magic and as it burned my hands, I slammed it down into my chest. I arched and my back as the power washed over me. I offered up the magic, my soul, the blood to Death. I offered it as my wrists sealed as the three pints had poured out. The blood filled me, as did the magic. I felt myself and the pool of blood and magic around me levitate, the sacrifice of blood and magic swirled around me. The power built until it exploded, the blood, splattered across the walls and the magic slammed into me. The blood soaked into the walls and disappeared, the magic sealing mine within me. Protecting me from the end. I lay in the empty tub, stained with blood, I took gaping breathes, as I felt Death accept my offering. Oh, Magic, what had I done?

Meet Chione Aharon: Fate of Magics

Fate of Magics

Meet Chione Aharon:

The ritual I did was beyond dark magic. Beyond black magic. It was Death magic. Death and Life each had a magic of their own. To give and to take. Many of those who practiced Black Magic hid Death Magic into the Black. Or modified it to not pay tribute to Death. It weakened the results but the more magic you had the stronger and closer to the original it was. My family were once Death’s Chosen. Most of our family secrets revolves around Death Magic. And thus, I knew it well. Death magic was a very part of our souls. It had allowed us to move up in the world. It had allowed us to lead the world via the underground. Oh, there were a few powerful people that we didn’t mess with. The Ice Queen of our world was one. She depended on magic, I wondered if she would be doing a similar Death Ritual to keep her magic? She and I were leaders in our communities, but on the magical side. We would be starting over on the mundane side. But there was no way I was going to start over without my magic. I could not live without something that had been part of my very soul since my conception. So, I read the ritual, and I knew what I had to do. Perhaps, everything does happen for a reason.

I was a widowed bride. My husband murdered in front of me on my wedding. My Snow White heart shaped trumpet gown stained red with his blood forever. I remembered that day as it was yesterday. Even if it was over five years ago now. I did love him. He was an innocent. A Byzantium Wizard. I never imagined what spilling my coffee on someone would bring. It was quite a whirlwind courtship. I tried to keep him away from the seedy world I operated in. I really did. But, my enemies learned of him. Poor Michael Getz. Mike was a peacekeeper and a pure Byzantium Light Wizard. Who loved me no matter my faults.

And upon my wedding day, what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, I became a widow. My enemies had hired a master assassin. My groom had been standing up and doing a toast to me when the assassin blew his brains out and shot him twice in the chest. His life’s blood and magic splattering upon my dress.

I shook my head as the memories played as I looked at the blood upon my dress. I never cleaned it. Never. After all, it was my wedding and widow dress. I used that blood. Dead Man’s blood. An innocent man’s blood. What he was killed for, it wasn’t his actions, never his, he was a light magic user. It was for actions I had taken against another family. My family is the equivalent of the Mafia and I made a lot of enemies. My enemy hit when I was the weakest. Just like I had done in the past. My groom’s blood would make the perfect offering to Death.

I dressed into my wedding dress. And walked out under the full moon of the summer night. Upon the ground Death’s symbol lay carved into the dirt, sealed with magic to not blow or wash away as the magic built during the ritual. His symbol was an upside-down Ankh with a scab in the center. I stood in the center and using the magic in his blood and mine, I filled the tip of my Athame with the magic and then calling upon Death magic sealed inside myself.

I stabbed the dagger into my chest piercing my heart using the Life blood as an offering to death and then using the combined magic to seal the wound allowing me to live. And this offering and sealing would allow me to keep my magic; as it was now sealed in the scar in my soul and heart. I

wondered as I lay there gasping for air my fresh blood now mingled with the blood of my groom, who else would do what it took to keep their magic? Or would I truly be alone? What had I done? And I gave into darkness as I felt Death accept my offering…

Insomnia Café: Excerpt Ryan

Insomnia Café: Excerpt Ryan
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But honestly, what is a hero? Nobody is born a hero. They are made that way.

Sometimes, it is just the choices they make that taking one event that could destroy them and turning it into a fuel for their righteousness. For their desire to save everyone. Generally, because they couldn’t save the one that meant the most to them.

One event.

That is all it takes. One event. Good or Evil. That is all it will ever take is one event to decide what side of the war you are on. Good, Evil, and those poor idiots that are in the middle, like me.

Rather the event takes seconds, days, weeks, months, or years, a hero will become a beacon of all that is good, that people forget they are human.

But sometimes…Just sometimes, it can take one person to remind them they are human. And save their soul before the pressure of being perfect gets tom them.

Sometimes the villain doesn’t need to be saved; but a hero always needs to be saved.

And maybe it takes a villain to do the saving…

Insomnia Café: Excerpt Daniel

Insomnia Café: Excerpt Daniel
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But honestly, what is a villain? Nobody is born a villain. They are made that way.

Sometimes, it is just the choices they make that seem for the greater good that turn around and bite them in the ass.

One event.

That is all it takes. One event.

Rather the event takes seconds, days, weeks, months, or years. It just takes one event to change the hero into the villain.

But sometimes.

Just sometimes, it can take one person to save the villain and redeem them; then again…

Sometimes the villain doesn’t need to be saved…

Daniel was one of those villains that didn’t need to be saved. Yes, he was ‘evil’ but what was evil? I mean was anybody pure evil? He wasn’t. After all, I happen to know he has a soft spot for kids.

Insomnia Café: Prologue

Insomnia Café: Prologue
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When I was fifteen I lied about my age and joined the military. Two and half years made no difference. I had my high school diploma. But college? Not my scene. I after all was a street rat.

When I was twenty seven a bullet ended my military career. I literally was going to make it my life choice, but I am not one for a desk job. So the bullet that took out three pounds of my thigh? Yeah, sent me back into civilian life after twelve years. I walked into the Marines with nothing to my name. I walked out with a cane with a skull head and ruby eyes, with a healthy sized savings account. After all, how was I going to spend my paycheck when I was doing missions that weren’t even fully put on the books?

After a year of physical therapy I choose to take my life savings and open up an all-night café. Why a café? Because it allowed my insomnia an outlet and it allowed me to use those skills my father taught me before he was died when I was eight, he had been a baker. So a few self-taught lessons to catch up on baked goods, I settled down in the big city and opened up my café.

I named it Insomnia Café.

What I didn’t expect was that it would become the Switzerland in a sea of crazy.

From the very first ‘villain’ and the very first ‘hero’ to walk into my doors I declared neutral and stayed out of it. There was no way I was going to be drawn into any type of drama. I did the hero thing. I wanted nothing to do with it. I did the villain thing. I wanted nothing to do with it. I was now neutral.

The city is full of characters, and most of them are my regulars. From Superheroes to Super Villains to Everyday Heroes to the standard criminals to the regular Joe off the street; they are all my customers.

My café has become a central hub that is neutral and a safe place for all. Where all is safe, where all laws seem to become non-existent, where nobody breaks my rules, after all for being a normal human, I can cause fear in the worst of super villains and heroes alike.

These are my stories of my regulars at Insomnia Café.

September Self Challenge!

So to get back into writing regularly, I will be issuing a self challenge!

One Chapter every other day for the month September! I will write, and TYPE, 1 chapter for 1 book and post it here and on Facebook in September.

What book?

Well, I have interest in Insomnia Cafe. So, that is the one I am going to post!

Today will be the prologue! On the day I am not posting the chapter, I will be working on actually getting ready to publish Elemental Mazes, and working on short stories.

In October I will be doing Part II of Monster University.

November I will be doing NaNoWriMo, I was going to do a sequel to The Keepers and the Sister of Lilith, however, I am going to use it to write Shades of Fear or Praying. It will probably be Praying.

Then in December I will be outlining a true schedule for 2019 as I hope to be more active in writing/publishing/my art! Love to you all!

Random WIP: The Quest To Find Home

Random WIP:
The Quest To Find Home
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Nysa was born to nobility on her planet. The only problem was that she was born, well a she. Her clan had ruled the majority of the world, and her only duty was to be raised to be a bride to the next clan leader. The issue with that? The bride not only was expected to take care of the home, but to be able to be his right hand in battle; always sacrificing herself for the leader. She hated her betrothed. She hated her planet. She hated everything. So at age of 100, twelve and half years before her majority were she would marry Oryann, she stole a ship and severed all ties to her clan and planet. She crash landed on Earth five years later. She noticed that her horns and tail were the only things that prevented her from fitting in with the humans. So she removed her horns and tail. She then began to carve a life for herself. Hoping to find a true home. Now three hundred Earth years later, Oryann has found her… and he has sent the Bega Demons, intergalactic bounty hunters, to bring his bride home to him; after all he cannot be the clan leader without the princess.

Oryann sent the Bega Demons to bring back his bride. He wanted to make changes on their planet but to do that he must be the clan leader. To be clan leader one must marry the heiress of the royal family. They only had one child, Nysa. And she ran because she did not want a life where if they had a daughter they would be raised as a sacrificial lamb to protect their husband. He had to show her a mask around her parents, but now her father and mother were dead, it was time he gained his bride. But as she runs from the Bega Demons, or destroys them, he realizes he may just have to go and gain his bride himself.

Will Oryann gain his bride? Or will Nysa run towards the freedom she has known these three hundred years? Or will she find something worth more than her imagined freedom as she continues her quest to find a home.

Sleeping Death

Sleeping Death
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Triggers: Zombies, Death, Violence

Once upon at time there was a vain Queen and King, they had a child who was as pretty as can be. They hired three witches to bless the child with beauty, grace and pose.

But there was a fourth witch that was not invited. She came to the christening and gave this proclamation. “This beauty, Briar Rose, shall have her beauty, grace and pose, as long as her heart beats within her chest. The moment her heart stops beating, she will lose all three. Her body however shall never die!” The witch then bent and kissed the sleeping beauty on the head.

She turned on her heel and disappeared from the castle, she left to ponder who words, what they meant. The Queen bent and picked up her child; they found the note left by the witch. “Briar Rose shall prick her finger on a spinning wheel on her eighteenth birthday. That prick shall stop her heart from beating, bringing about the curse I have placed upon her.”

The Queen and King were worried about the curse, though they did not know exactly what it meant; did not know how her heart would stop beating but her body would not die? So they sent the baby to live with the three witches they had hired to make sure of their daughter’s beauty, grace and pose.

The years went by and the young Briar Rose grew up with a normal childhood, never once told that she was the heir to a mighty kingdom, which meant that one day she shall be Queen. She grew up as Twila, the ever loving peasant girl, who had the beauty of a queen.

On the morning of her eighteenth birthday she went upon her day as she normally would have; she got up and picked flowers, feed the animals, and went about her day. The witches, that were in charges of raising her, went to her after lunch as they needed to fit her for her new gown. One that was fit for a princess; as she was now of age, she would now go home and become the princess the land needed, it was time to return to the world of royalty.

They did the fitting and left to get some much needed supplies for the birthday celebration that was to happen that night. After all it would be her last night with them and they felt the depressed at that very thought.

Well they were gone; the other witch took her opportunity to lead young Twila to the spindle of her curse. With a bit of magic, she had Twila follow a small bird to the spindle that spun on its own accord, it weaved a string that was black as sin.

The witch used the bird, and spoke in a soft tone, she instructed Twila to prick her finger on the spindle needle. Which, of course, the young princess did, without hesitation. In that very moment her heart stopped beating. She fell to the floor. The three witches appeared instantly, but were too late to stop what had happened. Instead they froze time, they froze her and the kingdom in an endless sleep, that could only be undone by true loves first kiss. So they protected the sleeping kingdom until they could find a cure for the curse on the young princess, however they never found one. For many years, many decades, the kingdom was frozen in time. Many princes to come ‘save’ the sleeping princess, however the witches prevented anybody from reaching the sleeping princess, thus they left her in the frozen state.

One day a prince from a far away kingdom heard of the sleeping kingdom and thought of the land to be gained from such a union. So he set out across he many lands to get to the kingdom. Once there he faced the three witches, the first put up a field of knifes and spikes, that had to be carefully navigated, and could not be torn down. However this Prince, upon his birth, had been blessed by witches of his own kingdom, with the smarts, and a sword that could cut down any object within its path. He cut through the maze of blades, and made it to the second task set froth by the witches.

He reached a room of fire. The flames would burn through anything. The witches were sure that the prince would never make it through. However, also upon his birth, he was given a shield that would protect him from any supernatural danger. It allowed him to cross the flames of the witches’ passions. It allowed him to face the third and final task.

A monster of the worse sorts, part dragon, part Griffin, colored the deepest of blues with eyes the color of a sunset. A creature that was sure to kill the prince. The prince knew he would defeat it. He was gifted strength, brains and pride upon his birth. He fought though the flames of the creature dodged the spikes upon its tail, evaded the razor sharp teeth that tried to chop down on him, but in the end his sword met the creature’s heart, and it turned to dust.

The three witches looked on in shock as he stood by the bedside of the cursed Princess Briar Rose and he leaned down and kissed her. The moment the kiss ended, she awoke. But she was no longer human, her pale skin, had long ago shrunk. Her beauty she once held was gone; in its place was death. The prince’s kiss had broken the spell which froze time, but not the curse.

The Princess opened her eyes, she got up and then Briar Rose did the unthinkable. She attacked the prince! She bit him. He stabbed her with his sword, but still she came at him. He ran from her, and fell down the stars and broke his neck. The witches waited, their breaths held. They waited to see what would happen now as the undead Briar Rose started to move. Her beauty, her grace, and her pose all gone from her once lovely soul. She did not grow up royal; yet she is the one that paid for the sins of her parents.

The witches watched as the prince’s body also started to move. The curse had extended itself to her victims. The witches watched as Briar Rose set the neck of her undead prince and they went off together, to wreak havoc among their kingdom.

The Queen locked herself in her chambers and cried out in pain as she watched her kingdom become the kingdom of the undead. She cried out to the witch that placed the curse upon her daughter, the one they didn’t invite because of her views of the world. “Hekate! Come to me! I beg you! Come to me! Make me a deal!” The Queen needed to stop the pain of her soul, the pain of seeing her daughter as a zombie. Her soul was drowning in the pain.

“You called Queen Emma?” Hekate appeared.

“Make me a deal! Anything! Reverse your curse! Allow my daughter a life full of happy ever afters.”

“You put you and your family above your people. You hired witches to bless your children, though you know it curses another! You make sure your children know all the comforts of life, while your people go hungry, while they freeze, they know all the hardness and pain, while you and your children know only comfort and joy! And you have the nerve to ask me to reverse the curse? To reset time?”

“Yes! Please I will do anything!” The Queen begged.

“Fine. I will reset time on these conditions and these alone! One, the child will be raised far from you. She shall be raised a poor child, that way when she is queen she will be fair. Two, no longer will you hire the witches to bless the children of royalty. Instead each child born in the kingdom will be bestowed one blessing and one hardship to overcome. And last but not least, your life for hers. You shall die in her place. It is the only way I can reverse time. I need to balance the universe. I took her soul, her life, so yours will be the price to save hers.” Hekate said with a sneer, sure the Queen would not take the offer.

The Queen looked out the window and watched as her daughter took a spoon and scooped out a heart from some poor soul and watched as she ate it. She could not bear this pain. Death would be welcomed for a chance her daughter would live. “Deal.”

Hekate was in shock. “So be it!” Hekate snapped her fingers and time reversed, the conditions now set in blood and soul.

“King Richard! You have a beautiful baby girl! Briar Rose! She was gifted with grace, but cursed with the inability to sing.”

“Fantastic!” The King said with a smile.

“But my King, we regret to inform you the Queen has died in child birth…”

“My wife is gone…?”

“She looked at her daughter and said ‘For you my life.” Then she decreed that she shall be raised by the three witches away from the kingdom until her eighteenth birthday, when she will marry and she said she shall become the queen she never was, then she passed, sir.”

“Then may her wishes be fulfilled.” The King stated and walked way from the servant and his daughter, who would never know the curse once bestowed upon her…

Random WIP Tuesday: Insomnia Café

I never saw my life ending up like this. Actually, I never thought I would be alive, let alone owning a café in a major city.

When I was fifteen I lied about my age and joined the military. When I was twenty seven a bullet ended my military career. After a year of physical therapy I choose to take my life savings and open up an all-night café. What I didn’t expect was that it would become the Switzerland in a sea of crazy.
From the very first ‘villain’ and the very first ‘hero’ to walk into my doors I declared neutral and stayed out of it.

The city is full of characters, and a few of them are my regulars. From heroes to criminals to the regular Joe off the street. And my café has become a central hub that is neutral and a safe place for all.

These are the stories of the regulars at Insomnia Café.

Excerpt 1:
Being Neutral. Easier said than done in this world. As I glared at the gaping hole in my roof and I glared at the lime green acid that dripped from the edges. Daniel was so paying for the repairs. Why couldn’t they take it to the streets like the mobsters and the cops? Damn super humans, or aliens, or whatever the bastards were, they always made a mess and then came in here and acted like nothing was wrong. Daniel and Ryan were the worst. Bitter enemies until they walked through my door, then they acted like fucking lovers. Maybe they just needed to be locked into a room and left to their own devices.
Excerpt 2:

I sighed as I knew I would be having someone fix the bay windows again. Why don’t I just replace them with concrete. It would teach them.

I rolled my eyes as they came in after the fight. This time at least it wasn’t the super humans. “You are fixing the window, O’Doyle. Coffee?” I asked as they took their seats in their section.

“Mo stór! Whiskey!” O’Doyle slammed his hand down. “We are free another day!”

“You are only free O’Doyle because we couldn’t pin it on you,” sneered O’Malley.

“Detective you hurt me! How could you believe we are participating in illegal activities?”

“Can it O’Doyle.” O’Malley turned to me. “Dear, if you could get us some pie and coffee?”

“No problem Detective.” As I turned to yell back to the kitchen.