Tuesday, January 1, 2019

The Start of a Series - Island of Fyre Janet Lane Walters #MFRWAuthor #BWLPublishingLTD #Fantasy

The Start of a Series

A while ago, an editor put out a call for stories featuring fire. For some reason this  caught my eye and as I was falling asleep, an idea occurred. Fire became Fyre. Gems became fyrestones. Some bushes became fyrethorns. Suddenly the main character appeared, a young girl sold to the slavers by her parents and bought by the chief priestess of the Temple of Fyre. The chief priestess became the villain. This became an island divided into three parts. Thus a trilogy was born and the trilogy will grow to four. I’m always amazed by how ideas for stories arise. Mine comes from having this wild imagination and from there, stories are born.

Temple of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 1) Kindle Edition

Sold by her family to the priestesses of the Temple of Fyre, Ria soon masters using each of the four fyrestones, white, yellow, orange and scarlet. Her curiosity leads her to the archives and there, she learns things that disturb her. There are no men serving as priests but in the past there were. Men are kept in the harras where the priestesses visit. On the day of her testing she is ordered to perform a task she dislikes and refuses to destroy a town. Many of the priestesses fall into unconsciousness. Melera, the chief priestess, beats and banishes Ria for the carrion crows to consume.

Ari was abandoned as a child and found by two elderly firestone miners. He has pursued this and is the best of the finders. He goes to the temple to sell the stones he has gleaned. On leaving, Ria attempts to steal the fyrestone he has worn since the day he was found. He thinks she is a boy and a thief and he takes her to his room at the inn. On discovering her identity, he refuses to turn her over to the priestesses and they leave town. They are searching for the fabled blue fyrestones. They also learn to use them they must be bonded physically, emotionally and spiritually. Can they learn to master the blue stones and defeat Malera so they can rule the temple with love and understanding?

As the boy collapsed, Ari caught him. He hadn’t meant to frighten the lad, but the sight of the dried blood on the back of the caftan had stirred anger. Though Ari had never lived on the streets, he could imagine the youth’s terror. Ari thanked the fates for his good fortune. When the pair of old men had rescued and brought him to Rosti, there’d been no talk of selling him to the slavers. Instead, he’d become their apprentice.
      When he lifted the boy, Ari noticed the lad’s delicate features. He clenched his teeth. If he went to the alders, the youth would spend years in a house where he’d be used by men and women for their pleasure. Ari shook his head. He wouldn’t subject the boy to that fate. Instead, he would offer the lad the same choice as he’d been given.
     The lad’s skin felt as though coals burned beneath the surface. Some of the scratches on his arms had festered. With a rueful grin, Ari shrugged. He hadn’t expected to spend his first night after six lunars in the hills caring for a sick boy. How long before the youth could travel? Though Ari had planned to be away from Rosti before Solstice Day, he wouldn’t leave until the lad could travel. The fates had brought him an apprentice.
     Ari carried the lad through a side entrance into the inn. As he passed the doorway to the common room, he glanced inside. The innkeeper stood behind the bar filling mugs with ale. He was too busy to notice the presence of his guest. Ari reached the room and slipped inside. He placed the boy on the bench beneath the window. The lad’s face was flushed. Alarmed by the fiery skin, Ari leaned closer. The youth’s breathing sounded normal.
     After secreting most of the coins in his haversack, Ari mentally listed the things he needed to treat the boy’s wounds and fever. He strode to the common room and paused at the bar. “Innkeeper, do you have a servant who can go to the market for me? There are some things I need.”
     The man waved to a younger version of himself. “My son will do what you want.”
     Ari drew the young man away from the noise-filled room. He handed him three silver and one copper coin. “The copper’s yours. There’ll be another when you return. Buy two caftans, one large and one a bit smaller than your size. Purchase bathing soap and these herbs.” He listed them and listened while the innkeeper’s son recited the list.
     Ari returned to his rented room. He used the fyrestone to light the kindling beneath the drum of water. He paused to check his guest. The boy’s soft snores made Ari smile. Perhaps the lad wasn’t as ill as he seemed. Ari paced the room. There was nothing he could do until the innkeeper’s son returned.
     A tap on the door and the appearance of the young man was welcome. Ari stepped into the hall and took the package and change. “In two hours, I’d like a hearty meal. The roast and all the trimmings, broth, barley water, a pitcher of ale and a demi of spiritus.”
     The young man’s eyes narrowed. “Barley water’s used for mixing medicines. My pa won’t like you bringing illness to the inn.”
     “No illness. Just some cuts and blisters to treat.”
     When he closed the door, Ari slid the bar into place. Until the boy was bathed and his wounds treated, Ari wanted no one barging into the room. He hung the caftans on hooks and placed the supplies on the table. He checked the lad and found him still asleep. Ari pulled off his boots and stripped. He dropped the clothes in the hall to be added to the ones the laundress would wash. Until his clothes were returned, the caftan was all he had to wear. He sprinkled the fleabane on the bedding. The mint-scented herb would kill any pests. There was enough left in the packet to disinfest his and the boy’s hair.
     Ari took the soap and fleabane into the bathing room. He filled the tub with steaming water and turned the valve to refill the tank. Before stepping into the bath, he lathered his face and used his knife to shave his beard. With a groan of pleasure, he sank into the tub. After scrubbing his body, he soaped his hair and massaged the herb into the shoulder-length mass. Once rinsed and dried, he emptied the tub and refilled it. Time to bathe the lad and see to those wounds. He left the bathing room and looked at the wide bed where he’d planned to spend the night with a willing woman. His gaze settled on his unexpected guest. The rescue had been impulsive, but his past had left him with little choice. Just as the aging stone seekers had offered a rescue from the slavers’ pens, he would aid the boy.
He reached for the caftan and changed his mind. Since the robe was all he had to wear until morning when the laundry arrived, he preferred not to dine in a soggy caftan. He wrapped a towel around his waist and hips.




Tina Donahue said...

This sounds soooo good! Can't wait to read. Happy New Year!

Janet Walters said...

Thanks It's hot