Curse Breaker, Fantasy, Mount Eredren, Sarn, Shayari

Curse Breaker | Discovery

Curse Breaker | Discovery

Passing between two trees, whose boles each had to be over a hundred feet in diameter, he froze. Bodies lay in a small clearing—or what was left of them. The stench hit Sarn full in the face as the wind, which had picked up over the last mile of his hike, shifted. He gagged, doubled over and retched. Sarn started as a hand landed on his shoulder.

“You okay, Kid?”

“I’m not a kid.” Sarn shot back as he forced the bile back down.

“I’m twenty—”

“I know,” Nolo gave Sarn’s shoulder a squeeze and then let go, “but you’re also almost half my age.”

“You’re not forty.”

“No but I’m not far from it.”

Sarn watched the black Ranger check the bodies—or rather their scattered parts. Blood coated leaf, branch and ground. He had no wish to get any nearer to the gore.

Nolo ventured close to one of the larger bits that had once belonged to a man. It might have been a torso once.

“Something impaled him right through the center of mass. The hole it left behind is too wide to be from a spearhead.”

“How’s that even possible? You can’t bring steel in here. The forest doesn’t allow it.”

Sarn turned his back on the murder site and moved upwind, so the stench stopped causing his stomach to rebel. He hadn’t meant to go far but then neither had he expected a branch to tap him on the shoulder and then point at something to his left. His curiosity roused at the forest’s polite request.

More branches directed him to another clearing and what he found there broke him. It cut his legs right out from under him. He landed hard on his knees. Horror constricted his throat and knotted in his chest making breathing difficult as he stretched out a shaking hand towards the body of a small child dashed on the rocks. A choked sound escaped as he closed the pale green eyes of a child who might have grown up to be just like him.

Read the rest in Curse Breaker: Enchanted today: 

After an enchanted tree abducts Sarn, he’s thrust into a mystery revolving around a double homicide. Can Sarn protect his son, keep his masters happy and help the dead boy haunting him?

Look inside to find out. Read the first 15 chapters for free.

For my sister, who died on 2/22/14 at the age of 29: 

You had three days left.
Did you rise aware of death?
Did you hear its steps?

Did you know last words
linger long after your death?
Words that set my quest.

69 thoughts on “Curse Breaker | Discovery”

    1. Thank you 🙂 he is a strong guy, but he has to be since he’s taking care of his brother and his four year old son. 🙂 The poem for my sister started me on the upswing away from grief.

    1. Thank you 🙂 I’m just struggling along, trying to put this behind me so I can start living again. Trying to accept that some of the most important questions have no answers.

    2. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through and I’m sure I don’t understand half your pain, but you know where to find me when you need to talk 🙂

    3. Thank you 🙂 It’s my dream to be a published author. I wish it hadn’t taken my sister’s last request to get me to work towards that and write more publicly.

  5. You story has taken beautiful shape and always leaves me wanting more.

    The piece for your sister tugs at my heartstrings and leaves me wanting to to send love and hugs and a promise that you are not alone!

    1. Thank you, I was working on this when she died. I’ve spent two years agonizing over it. Thank you for the reminder. It is hard sometimes to remember that I am not alone.

    2. You are welcome, Melinda. I am not sure if many could continue with a project of this magnitude after such a loss. I admire you, so very much and I imagine your sister has been with you, every step of the way.

    3. I hope so but I just don’t know. We were not very close at the end. Something had changed but I never found out what or why she’d stopped talking to me. We lived in the same house which made it hard not to notice her cold regard. That’s what made her last words so powerful; they were the first time she’d really talked to me in over a year. Half of what she told me I found out after her death were either lies or delusions. I don’t know which. The only part of that short conversation that was real and true was when she urged me to publish all my stories. She and my mother left then. neither answered their phones. I kept calling anyway. I knew something was wrong. I got a call 5 days later with the news of her death. She said a lot of horrible things too a few days before she left. Words I’ve forgotten now but at the time they had stung. She had become someone I didn’t recognize. Then that last request, which seemed to return the sister I had always loved, which vanished again moments later. This is not even the half of it. I’m not sure what to make of the rest. It was a week long nightmare that cast a pall over everything for too long.

    4. Oh, Melinda. I don’t think any of us really understands why people (especially family) say the things they do while battling sickness. I can’t imagine how haunting this has been for you. What I see in your words is that you never gave up. I am glad you are honouring your sister’s wishes. Should you ever wish to correspond about this or anything you can email me at: ftledrew@gmail.com – my inbox is open 24/7 🙂 Warm Newfoundland hugs and lots of love to you 🙂

    5. Thank you for your kind offer. I am sorry I unburdened this on you. As the 22nd approaches, the events surrounding her death weigh heavily on my me. The tribute I meant to write became an angry rant via senryu instead.

    6. You are welcome! You need never apologize, Melinda, I am an ocean so feel free, any time, to unload anything that may be weighing on your mind. If I have learned anything in these forty+ years it is how to lend an attentive ear. Sadness and anger are so closely related at times and it’s understandable that your planned tribute became something different.

    7. I had not realized that anger and sadness shared a common taproot until now. Thank you for the attentive ear. Finding one is rare these days. you are a rare treasure. I hope everyone in your life realizes this!

    13. 😀 reading and commenting on blog posts has definitely sweetened and softened a disposition that was losing its flexibility and sweetness. The corporate world is not kind to the nice gal or guy.

  6. Bravery and intrigue. The perfect components of good storytelling. The poem for your sister reflects the questions asked in the depths of grief. All of this is wonderful and I know that through your sharing your beautiful sister with us you are helping those who grieve. I know because it’s helping me. <3

    1. Thank you 🙂 It’s really helping? I am trying to heal and doing so alone is tough. So it’s bleeding into my writing. I am glad to hear it is helping someone.

    4. It is for me sometimes because it’s partially anonymous in a strange way. at the same time, the people that read my stuff know more about me than most. Hmmm. 🙂

    5. you’re right about that. the same thoughts flitted through my head when I wrote you that reply. why is it easier to bear our pain to strangers do you suppose?

  7. I really liked the story, waiting for some more.:)
    the poem then is something bittersweet, something that has a strong communication power.
    Keep it

    1. Thank you 🙂 part 15 will be posted tonight. There will be more tiny poetic tributes to my sister. The anniversary of her passing has her much on my mind.

  8. For the story:
    You made this journey more mysterious. I am now thrilled to read more. 🙂

    For your poem:
    I admire your bravery. I think it will be hard for me to write such. But you go beyond writing one, you also do it beuatifully. hugs

    1. Thank you for your comments about both the story and the small poetic tribute to my sister. Thank you for the hug as well. I am sending a hug back to you for your generosity of spirit.

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