Hello friends, as always I apologize for my absence in general, but lots going on in our world here. But ‘this too shall pass.’

I decided to take a cue from our friend Dan Antion and join Teagan’s Creativity Challenge. Teagan suggests that we create a journal or diary entry for one of our story(s)’ characters.Thank you Dan for sharing her prompt on your #SoCS post over at No Facilities.
Since there are quite a few core characters in my book Dawn of the Dream , it took a minute to decide whose soul I might be baring today. Then I quickly decided on Eolas, the Hunter, who is one of the Protectors within my fictional world of Domhan. As well as being one of the original four created to form the Circle of Light, he is also the Keeper of Knowledge and the written word. Ever since that darkest of nights called for them to stand against the flying beast sent by the wayward son of the eternal realm, he also bears the responsibility of leadership for their village, Juntos. This entry would have been written in those days after the Devastation as their world grew ill and the humans struggled to rebuild both their lives and their trust.

The Hunter’s Heart

Eolas found an unused bit of cloth and dipped his writing stick in the deep ochre juice. He was, after all, the keeper of the word. Up until now that word had been the wisdom shared with his kinsmen by the gods and goddesses who’d given them life, but when one of them turned his hand against the others in the realm and sent the beast with fire for breath to end it all, the Hunter had more than a few of his own. These troubling thoughts were driving him to the brink of madness, so he decided if he couldn’t speak them then he would give them to the scroll. And so he began…

They call me the Hunter, although all of the Jinetes are hunters. I feel undeserving of such a distinction among my kinsmen. Laoch, the Warrior, is more deserving of his title in my mind’s thinking. He is the strongest man on our world, and since he and I came to this land he has made true warriors of these men. Our lives were perfect before that unspeakable night. After the Joining with the women of Espera he was happy with his chosen one. Ella was, and still is, the most noble of her tribe… and yet still so gentle, so caring. I don’t know what’s happening between them but that they are more distant with each other since we returned to Juntos. There was so much destruction in my own homeland, so much to remind me of… her.

(A drop of water stained the cloth as he hung his head, finding the will to keep writing. He dipped the stick once more into the liquid and scratched it over the cloth.)

I could bear no more remembrance of that night when new life was given to us by the Sorceress’ miraculous hands. But then it was all tainted by the wrath of the pitiless god. No one can know another’s sorrows, and I dare not share mine with others who know loss. The gift of Ella’s caring for our daughter, I fear, may be taking a toll on her own union with Laoch. But I cannot look after the child because every time I look at her I see her mother. I cannot bear that sweet smile and tender look, and yet they are what carry me through these painfully dark days without Eagna. As long as Saol lives then so does my beloved. I cannot think about what is happening with the others for it takes all my will to move through the long days. Laoch should understand his companion’s need to replace the child she lost on that terrible night. She gave up everything for the cause, and there is some piece missing. Something is amiss between the Warrior and Naofa. Our mystical Sorceress does not speak of the things in her own heart. It’s regrettable that she never found her own companion, but then she is so distant and seems content to return to the sea.

He put the stick down to collect his thoughts and blew gently across the damp writing. The distant sound of children playing beyond the temple gave him pause before he returned to his work.

Then there is the boy who was so young when we first brought him back to the village. I tried to keep him here, but he is driven by his sorrows and faith that his mother and brother are alive. If not for the devoted animal he rides I would have tied him to a post rather than allow him to roam the lands alone, especially now that the winds have grown cruel. At least we got word that someone from the Land of Caves has joined him. The other tales we’ve heard are too strange to believe, too wild to accept, and to awful to consider. Just last night it was decided that the Warrior and some of our best men would begin a quest for the truth. They will search for the boy and his mother, although somehow I think it is really the other woman he yearns to find. It is true she has the power we need for the Circle to rise again, but for Ella’s sake I hope it isn’t merely a guise for his heart’s longing. She seems not to notice as she cares for my daughter and she takes care of us both. I hope I’m wrong about Laoch. His companion deserves to be seen. If not for my own wounded heart…

Eolas put the stick down and blew on the cloth again. There were voices at the door and he snuffed the candle before answering it. The men were getting ready to begin the journey, likely taking them to the sea land of Athas Anam. That was it then, he surmised. He went back to the table, rolled the cloth and tucked it inside a clean jar, stoppering the top. After he’d hidden it near the fireplace the Hunter left the temple. What lay ahead, he didn’t know. He only knew that their story was changing, and they must be the hand writing it…