Jonah – Part 14

When we left Jonah last week, not only had he chosen to stay on the island when the boat finally came for him, but he met Drake and Jade and learned a huge secret. Drake is his father. Jonah is half Wizard and half mortal. And now, Drake has told him he has work to do. To say the least, Jonah is overwhelmed with all the developments. I thought I would end Jonah’s story with this segment, but there will be one more. 🙂

“Work to do?” Jonah asked.

“Yes. While you are learning of our ways and practicing the magic, you will be given assignments.” Drake paused. “You see, our original mission on earth was to help mortals find their true selves and lead them into the light and knowledge that lies within each of them.”

“How am I going to do that trapped on this island?” Asked Jonah.

“I will show you. We will work together.” Drake handed Jonah a small staff with a pulsating blue Crystal attached to the end.

blue crystal staff1

Jonah accepted the staff and was surprised to feel it vibrating in his hand. “What is this?”

“It is your key to passage through the portal.” Drake stood and pointed to the North.

Again, Jonah’s head swam. “Portal? I don’t understand, sir.”

“You remember how you tried to follow Tidus the first day you met him, and how the snakes blocked your way while he disappeared through a crevice in a stone?”

Jonah nodded.

“This Crystal allows you passage through that portal into our world.”

Jonah stared at the glowing gem. “I still don’t understand.”

“It will all become clear,” Drake put a hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “Gather your things. Let’s go.”

It only took Jonah a few short minutes to gather his meager possessions. He stuffed everything into a small bag and threw it over his shoulder. With a quick backward glance, Jonah bid farewell to the place where only a short time ago, he’d thought he was doomed to spend the rest of his life. When he stepped away, he watched mesmerized as the hut, the beginnings of the garden, and everything surrounding it dissipated into a dark vapor. Nothing but stinging nettles and tangled brush covered the area.

The four of them, Drake, Jade, Tidus, and Jonah followed a clear and unobstructed path toward the North.

When they reached the crevice in the rock, Drake stood aside. “Go ahead, Jonah.”

Crevice

Jonah hesitated. He held the staff in front of him and cautiously approached the rock. With a swoosh of air, he found himself in the most beautiful tropical paradise imaginable.

He turned around in time to see Drake, Jade, and Tidus appear in a mist. This was where Tidus lived. The enormity of the sacrifice Tidus had made to help him overwhelmed and took his breath away. And, to do it without knowing Jonah was his half-brother.

He approached Tidus with tear-filled eyes. “You gave up all of this to hang out with me in hell?” He made a flourish with his right hand.

Tidus grinned. “It was better than being here completely alone.”

“Thanks, kid,” Jonah choked. “I never imagined your world was this.”

“And, now it’s your world too, Jonah.”

Drake and Jade stood arm-in-arm and observed the two. Jade looked up at her mate. “We did well, my Lord.”

Drake lowered his head and claimed her lips. “That we did, my Lady.”

“I have one regret,” Jade said. “I wish I had been Jonah’s mother.”

Drake sighed. “Ah, my love. I could but wish I had only one regret.”

**Please join me next week for the conclusion to Jonah’s story**

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Poetry Connection #RRBC #RWISA

april-national-poetry-month-monet-claude-water-lillies

As we wind down to the end of National Poetry Month, I am compelled to share a couple of excerpts from our Poetry and Art Book, “Discovery.

I chose this first poem for many reasons, but mainly because it is such a pure organic expression of longing and love from within a prison cell. I hope you enjoy it and take time to FEEL it.

The Dream By Rick Sikes

I dreamed I was out of prison last night

The long awaited time to set things right

You were a picture of loveliness in my sight

For hours we kissed, as I held you tight

Soaring, orbiting the heavens, souls in flight

No windows barred in this world of sunlight

Tears of joy did I weep

So happy, I couldn’t go back to sleep

I thought of a rose, though the prison yard is deep in snow

Feeling great, awakening from a beautiful dream, you know

It seemed that I had touched you, it was grand

Tenderness of your eyes, the caress of your loving hand

Tasting of honey were your sweet lips

My eyes traced your soft body like fingertips

You snuggled up to me so warm, so mine

These moments totally divine

No light, no dark, no time, in this dream of ours

Filled with love scents and of wild-flowers

Talking about the many things we’ll do

My antics bringing gay laughter to you

Smiling, drifting into sleep; cuddled, you and me

Sailing peacefully into tomorrow’s reality

 

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ARTWORK BY RICK SIKES

 

I chose this next poem because it is written from a base of truth. Rick has been gone now for nine years and at times I think maybe I should try opening myself up to have a relationship with someone else. But, then I read this and know it can never be…because “I am you and you are me.”

I Am You – You Are Me by Jan Sikes

I don’t know how it came to be

That we in spirit love were joined

Somewhere out in eternity

Then split apart like a germinating seed

And placed on earth each other to seek

We looked in many stranger’s eyes

Only to turn away and recognize

That this was not the one we sought

You and me

Then at last, fate heard our plea

And now forevermore we’ll be

Bound in love

By satin chains and golden threads

And endless love where we make our bed

And never again will we part

For we are joined heart-to-heart

From Spirit World to earthly plane

We’ll never need to search again

In love with you, I am set free

For I am you and you are me

I hope you enjoyed these excerpts from “Discovery.” I’d be honored if you’d pick up a copy and ecstatic if you read and review it.

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In print and eBook format on AMAZON

To celebrate National Poetry Month, I will give away one eBook of “DISCOVERY” to someone who leaves a comment and shares the post on social media. The winner will be chosen at random.  Thank you!

Jonah – Part 13

When we left Tidus and Jonah last week, Jonah had missed the boat. He couldn’t find it in himself to leave Tidus behind, so chose not to go. Now, he’s having serious doubts about whether he did the right thing. And, they have company. Let’s see who it is.

Tidus looked up and let out a cry.

A man dressed in black leather boots, a long black brocade vest adorned with shining gold trim, a red and black silk cape slung across his shoulders and golden sword stood over them.

Drake

Weilderwolves stood like docile pets, on either side of the man. Gone were the blood red fangs and they looked up at him with adoring eyes.

“Father!” Tidus ran to him. “I thought you’d forgotten me.”

Drake embraced his son, then turned his gaze on Jonah.

“You did a righteous thing here today, Jonah. You cared more for Tidus than you did your freedom.”

Jonah swallowed hard unable to find his tongue.

Tidus knelt at his father’s feet and kissed his boots.

Jonah wondered. Was he expected to do the same? He certainly didn’t want to be skinned alive. He joined Tidus.

“Up, the both of you,” Drake ordered.

In an instant, a woman appeared beside Drake. With her long flowing blonde hair, purple, gold and green regality, she resembled a mythical goddess.

Jade

Tidus flew into her arms. “Mother!” Tears streaked down his face and he choked on his words. “I thought you died.”

Jade crooned, “Oh, my son. It was necessary for you to believe you were all alone so that you and Jonah could complete your lessons.” She stroked the boy’s hair. “I didn’t want to leave you but I knew you were ready for the task. You did well, Tidus, son of Drake and Jade.”

Jonah stared with an open mouth. If his life depended on him finding words to say, he’d surely die this minute.

His gaze returned to Drake. An electrifying aura floated around the warlock; something that resembled pictures he’d seen in books of the Aurora Borealis. Jonah sensed the strength of Drake’s magic. It ignited a flame inside him. Oh, how he wanted this gift. But, he was a mere mortal. Mere mortals could never possess magic this strong.

His eyes locked with Drake’s. Light shot out of them into Jonah’s and he blinked hard and struggled to stay on his feet.

Tidus touched Drake’s arm. “Father, Jonah is trapped here. The boat just left.”

“I know, son. It was the final test.”

Jonah found his voice. “Test for what, sir?”

“Come. Sit.” Red velvet chairs appeared out of nowhere.

red velvet

Jonah stumbled forward and found a seat. His head swam with confused thoughts. Was it possible that he was asleep and dreaming? Had the stress of missing the boat cost him what was left of his sanity?

But, he sat and listened.

The Warlock, Drake, spoke with a deep rumble, “You see, Jonah, I knew your mother many years ago. She was a student, learning our ways when the leaders discovered what we were doing and killed her.” He cleared his throat. “But, she was more than just a student. She was my lover.”

Jonah scooted to the edge of his chair. “You knew my mother?”

Drake nodded. “I have watched and waited to see if you would have the same gift. You’ve kept it well hidden but, nevertheless the spark is there.”

Jonah waited for him to continue, his gaze darting from Drake to Jade and Tidus. This had to be a dream. Nothing about it could be real. And yet the plush red velvet chair beneath him felt real.

“The gift?” Jonah asked.

“Like I said, your mother, Elizabeth, was my student,” Drake said. “She was learning how to use the magic, and her powers were growing daily. It broke my heart into a million pieces when they killed her.” His voice hardened. “I wasn’t there to protect her, but let me assure you, young Jonah, that the man responsible for her death paid dearly.”

“Wait,” Jonah interrupted. “Let’s go back. You said my mother was your lover. Does that mean…?” His words trailed off, and he glanced at Jade too embarrassed to continue.

Drake nodded. “Yes, Jonah. You are my son.” Drake reached for Jade’s hand. “It was before I found Jade. I loved Elizabeth and you were born out of that love.”

Again, his head swam. The son of a powerful Warlock? How could that be? And yet it all made sense except for one part.

He faced Drake. “If you are my father, why did you let them put me in the orphanage after they killed my mother?”

Drake sighed. “It was a hard choice, but at that time, we were fighting to survive. The leaders were determined to extinguish all of us and our kind. Many times, I counseled with the elders. I begged them to let me go for you. But, they refused. After all, you were half mortal.”

Jonah ran a hand through his dark hair. “And what happens now? Am I destined to exist in this godforsaken place forever?”

“No. But if you want to learn and grow your magic, you have work to do.”

 

Footprint

footprint

Everyone’s footprint, like their fingerprint, is unique and individual. Today, I was talking with a friend about famous singers and how ofttimes, their children try to fill their shoes.  For instance, more than one of Merle Haggard’s children have tried to break into music without their father’s degree of success. Another example is Shooter Jennings, who is a great artist in his own right, but not of the caliber his father, Waylon was.

In the course of our conversation, these words came out of my mouth and were so profound that I had to share. I said, “No one can walk in the exact same footprint as another person. We have to make our own footprints in life.”

The more I thought about it, the deeper it got.

As an author, I have at times doubted whether I have anything to contribute that hasn’t already been done. The old saying, “There is nothing new under the sun,” comes to mind.

But, when I think about it from the context of my quote, it all changes. No one can tell a story exactly the same way I can. You could take one hundred people, give them all the same subject title and you would get one hundred different stories. That is because we are all different. We view the world through unique lenses and no two are alike.

In the middle of writing this post, I received an email from a dear friend who is a psychic medium. She said she had a message from the Angels. Here was the message: “I asked my own Angels if they had an affirmation to share with you today. Their answer is that your unique self is special and enough, don’t compare your journey to anyone else’s. ”

I swear you can’t make this stuff up. Obviously, some of are needing to hear this.

So, if you ever think that you may not have anything to offer this congested world, think again. You do!

You have your own footprint to make. Be brave, bold and sure and move forward with your dreams, goals, and ambitions. Even if it’s been done thousands of times over,  it has not been done like you can do it.

To celebrate April – National Poetry Month I give you this food for thought.

Make your own footprint

Wherever you roam

Whether near or far

Let your dreams be known

The race is one of endurance

Not merely a sprint

Be bold and brave with assurance

That none can copy your footprint.

Happy Footprinting!!

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The #RRBC “TREAT” Reads Blog Hop

Greeting:  Welcome to the first ever “TREAT” Reads Blog Hop!   These members of RRBC have penned and published some really great reads and we’d like to honor and showcase their talent.  Although there were maybe 3-4 winners who were previously on this list but are no longer with the club, now all of the listed Winners are RWISA members!  Way to go RWISA!

We ask that you pick up a copy of the title listed and after reading it, leave a review.  There will be other books on tour for the next few days, so please visit the HOP’S main page to follow along.

Also, for every comment that you leave along this tour, including on the HOP’S main page,, your name will be entered into a drawing for an amazing gift card to be awarded at the end of the tour!

Book:   “IN THE SHADOW OF LIES”

Shadow of Lies

Blurb:  

Richmond, California. World War II.  Marine Lieutenant Oliver Wright comes home from the war in the Pacific injured and afraid his career as a homicide detective is over.  But when an Italian Prisoner of War is murdered the night the Port Chicago Mutiny verdicts are announced, and black soldiers are suspected of the crime, the Army asks Oliver to find out the truth. 

He and his canine partner Harley join forces with an Italian POW captain and with a black MP embittered by a segregated military. During their investigation, these unlikely allies expose layers of deceit and violence that stretch back to World War I and uncover a common thread that connects the murder to earlier crimes. 

In the Shadow of Lies reveals the darkness and turmoil of the Bay Area during World War II, while celebrating the spirit of the everyday people who made up the home front. Its intriguing characters will resonate with the reader long after its deftly intertwined mysteries are solved.

Author:  

Mary RRBC 2

This blog hop sponsored by:  4WillsPublishing

 

Jonah – Part 12

When we left Jonah and Tidus last week, Jonah had asked Tidus if he would start teaching him magic. Tidus was unsure. Let’s see what happened.

“I’m afraid,” Tidus paced.

“Afraid of what? I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Tidus.”

“You don’t understand. It’s not up to me, and even though you think you can, you cannot protect me. I don’t think I’m allowed to teach you.”

Jonah stood and laid a hand on Tidus’ shoulder. “Okay. Don’t get all worked up. I’m just trying to understand more.”

Tidus faced him. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I think you need to learn more about yourself first. If you try to go too fast, you’ll burn.”

“Burn?” Jonah stepped back. “That’s a funny word to use. You don’t mean that your father would skin me alive, do you?”

“I don’t know.” Tidus dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t tell you everything you want to know. You have to find it on your own.”

“In the books?”

Tidus nodded. “In the books, in your heart, and in your head. When your thoughts become more honest, and your heart more open, you’ll find what you seek.”

“I suppose that makes sense. You hungry, kid?” Jonah changed the subject.

“Sure. I loved the soup you made yesterday. Can you make it again?”

Jonah laughed and ruffled Tidus’ hair. “For you, kid, I’ll do it. Go gather some firewood.”

The boy traipsed into the thicket. Jonah never stopped being amazed at how the stinging nettles and venomous flowers parted to let him through. That was the kind of magic he craved.

He grabbed the pot and filled it with water and the vegetables Tidus had brought from his side of the island. He dug the package of jerky from the ground. Funny that he hadn’t realized it before now, but this jerky should have been long gone, and yet every time he opened it, he found several pieces. He wondered if that was more of the mysterious magic that surrounded him.

Tidus returned with an arm full of dried wood and Jonah set about building a fire.

soup

A thick silence settled between them while they ate. Jonah mulled over the words Tidus had spoken. He knew beyond any doubt that his thoughts were different than they’d ever been. He spent hours reading, reflecting on and journaling about deep dark secrets that he’d never imagined would see the light of day.

He wanted to purge himself of the darkness he’d embraced for so much of his young life. Shadowed memories of his mother’s loving touch came unbidden. He wished he could remember more, but he’d been too young when it all happened. He only knew what he had been told in the orphanage. Someone had killed her. He’d often dreamed of finding that someone and exacting revenge. Now, those thoughts seemed foreign to him, like they had belonged to another person.

He gathered their cups and strolled toward the water to wash them. He froze in his tracks.

There it was! A boat that looked as if it sailed straight out of Medieval times, approached the island.

Midieval Ship

 

How had he not heard it? His heart thumped. He glanced back at Tidus in time to see him disappear into a thick tangle of brush.

Jonah walked slowly toward the dock as the boat pulled alongside, churning the murky water with its propeller. A rope ladder appeared over the side of the boat, and a voice boomed. “Jonah, you have proven yourself. You are now allowed to return to the mainland. Are you ready?”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Can my friend come with me?”

“What friend? We don’t see anyone?”

Jonah turned and yelled. “Tidus. Tidus come back.”

He was met with silence.

“Come on, Jonah. Let’s go,” an impatient voice continued.

“Can I have a little more time to go find my friend?” Jonah asked.

“No. It’s now or never. Either go with us now or stay here forever. We won’t come back.” The engine hummed and the blades churned.

Jonah put one foot on the bottom rung of the rope ladder and climbed.

“Hurry,” the voice ordered.

Jonah climbed halfway up the ladder and scoured the island as far as he could see, for any sign of the boy.

He yelled again, “Tidus!”

The only response was the hum of the engine.

He started back down the ladder, and the boat began to move. He jumped the last few feet and landed with a thud on the dock.

Without a backward glance, he ran in the direction he’d seen Tidus disappear.

“Tidus! Please come back,” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

He trampled through the tangled brush mindless of the sting.

Tidus emerged from a stand of trees. “You didn’t go.”

Breathing hard, Jonah leaned over and put his hands on his knees. Tears streamed down his face. What had he done? He’d given up his only chance to return. When he looked up, he met Tidus’ steady gaze.

“I couldn’t leave you here, kid,” he choked. “I wanted to go…I did. But, I simply couldn’t go off and leave you here alone.”

“I’m sorry, Jonah. Truly I am, but as I told you, I could not survive on the mainland.”

Jonah’s chest heaved. Emotion thickened his throat, and he turned back toward the hut. “You coming?” he asked.

Tidus fell into step beside Jonah. “I know you think you made a mistake.”

“I don’t know what I think. I wanted to go home, but another part of me is not sure I can survive on the mainland either. At least not the way I did before.”

When they reached the clearing, Jonah stared at the disappearing boat growing smaller. He sank down on the sand and let his chin fall to his chest.

Tidus dropped down beside him.

A shadow fell across them, and Jonah jumped to his feet.

A Quest for Vision!

Indie Author, Beem Weeks, shares his thoughts on Visionaries and the quest for a vision. I know you will enjoy reading his inspiring thoughts!

The Indie Spot!

Visionary.

It’s a word that we’ve all heard bandied about from time to time, usually attached to some famous figure in history known for inventing something important that has changed the nation—or the world—in ways modern generations could not contemplate living without. Take Steve Jobs for example. Mr. Jobs is considered a true visionary. He’s the father of the modern personal computer, a device with which a life without would seem unimaginable in this modern world. Or consider Henry Ford, automotive tycoon. Mr. Ford certainly didn’t invent the automobile, but he did perfect the assembly line, bringing costs down, allowing for the common people to afford their very own car—and through employment in Ford’s factories, a stronger middle class arose.

giphy (1)

The Oxford American College Dictionary contains multiple definitions for this complex yet simple word. The definition I like best reads as stated: a person with original ideas about what the…

View original post 717 more words

The Bed

THE BED

BY JAN SIKES

 If you’ve read Flowers and Stone, you know that it was a big scene and turning point in the story when Rick (aka Luke) took me (aka Darlina) to his house in Brownwood for the first time.

One of the things I noticed right away was the bed. Made in the 1800s, its black and gold ornate metal frame caught my eye. He told me he had bought it at an antique store in the early sixties.

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The second thing I made note of was a holster hanging from the centermost point of the head frame with a pistol stuck in it and a leather sheath that held a bowie knife.

For Rick back then, these were simply standard every-day items. He played a street dance in Round Rock every year in celebration of Sam Bass, and he wore that gun belt, as did many others, to the event. Obviously, gun laws were quite different in the sixties and early seventies.

At any rate, after he was incarcerated, I often wondered what had happened to the bed and figured his parents sold it.

When he came home in 1985, one of the first things he found in his nephew’s house was the bed.

It had survived and remained in the family for all those years!

He promptly brought it home, gave it a new coat of paint, a new mattress, and it became OUR bed.

I still have it. Of course, it had several new mattresses over the years, but I sleep on it every night, and this is a tribute to The Bed.

I first knew love on this antique iron bed.

Indescribable heartbreak found me on this bed.

Young and dumb, I lost my way on this bed.

And then I lost the bed, but not my dreams.

It wasn’t until many long years later that the bed returned. Still pristine, still intact…waiting. How ironic that it had not disappeared.

So, over the years, I loved on the bed, laughed on the bed and soaked my pillow with tears on the bed.

It knew all our secrets, all our pain, all our dreams.

I remember one night I awoke in the early hours of the morning, to find Rick awake as well. I told him of a dream I had been immersed in, and as I related it, he interrupted and told me the ending. He had been dreaming the same dream. Bizarre? Well, yes, I suppose, but it happened.

And then Rick became ill. He no longer had enough strength to get back to the bedroom. A hospital bed sat in our living room, and our bed remained empty and untouched, for I would not leave him to go sleep in it.

The first night after he had passed, I slept in our bed, on his side of the bed. It has taken many years to adjust to sleeping alone in our bed, but now it is my comfort, my solace, my refuge and I still sleep on his side of the bed.

I wonder what will happen to it when I am gone. Will my children recognize its significance and preserve it, or will they sell it because it bears no meaning to them? Perhaps I should make my wishes known ahead of time. But, on the other hand, does it really matter what happens to it? I think not. It served its purpose for Rick and will serve me until I am gone. Perhaps I will get to leave this earth on our bed. Who knows?

At any rate, this is a tribute to an inanimate object that holds so much meaning and memories for me — THE BED.

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Introducing…New Release by @NonnieJules #RRBC #RWISA

A new short story release from #RRBC and #RWISA President, Nonnie Jules!

Watch Nonnie Write!

“…AND THE MUSIC PLAYED” 

poetry2b

Blurb:

This book is the sequel and also the final chapter in the love story between Giani and Christine. The first book, “IF ONLY THERE WAS MUSIC…The Poetry of Forbidden Love” (a co-authored poetic project), was a love story told thru the eyes of two lovers…but written for the hearts of many.

Across oceans and thru many barriers, two hearts try to connect – but with the distance between them, will their love survive? And, with the forces-that-be against them, coming in the form of murder plots and domestic abuse, the bigger question is…will they?

***

Available on Amazon now! $2.99

To my dearest reader:  If you should encounter any typo during your read of this book, I would so appreciate you letting me know at 4WillsPublishing@gmail.com.  Even with the keenest of vision, mistakes are always possible.

Thanks for your support and enjoy this short…

View original post 2 more words

JONAH – PART 11

This has been a pretty incredible journey so far for Jonah and Tidus. There is something shifting inside Jonah. When we left them last week, Tidus had gone back to his side of the island to get gardening tools. Let’s see how they’ve progressed.

***

Days passed by and Jonah spent hours working alongside Tidus.  His skin was covered in welts from the stinging nettles, and a large angry wound covered the back of his right hand where he’d accidentally brushed against one of the venomous flowers. But, they managed to clear a decent sized area for planting.

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Tidus had suggested a poultice of mud and herbs for healing. Again, Jonah was amazed at the boy’s knowledge. Tidus brought vegetable seeds from his side of the island along with a variety of flower seeds.

It made Jonah happy that Tidus spent days on his side of the island. Bit-by-bit, the boy brought more of his things, and Jonah had even constructed another smaller hut for him.

Shock rippled through him when Jonah realized that he hadn’t cast a glance toward the mainland or scanned the horizon for the boat in days.

Slowly but surely, he worked on clearing the land and himself.

After hours of digging, hoeing, planting and watering the rows of seeds in the makeshift garden, Jonah stretched out and opened “The Dark Side of the Light Chasers.”

Tidus dropped down beside him. “Will you read out loud?”

“Okay. Sure,” Jonah replied. “Chapter 6. ‘We can now begin to take responsibility for all of who we are, the parts we like and the parts we dislike. At this point, you don’t have to like all of your aspects; you just have to be willing to acknowledge them to yourself and others. There are three helpful questions you can ask yourself. Have I ever demonstrated that behavior in the past? Am I demonstrating that behavior now? Under different circumstances am I capable of demonstrating that behavior? Once you answer yes to any of these questions, you have started the process of owning a trait.’”

Tidus interrupted. “If you ever want to talk about anything, Jonah, I am a good listener.”

Jonah stared at him. “Yes, you are. But, I don’t think I could ever tell you all the things I’ve done. I don’t think you could handle it.”

“I am a kid, but in some ways, I’m really not. It’s all very strange, I am sure, but I’ve just kinda’ stopped aging. I experienced a lot with my mom and dad. Stuff that would make your stomach turn. Before we were banished from the mainland, people came in large groups determined to kill us and all of our kind. But our magic was stronger than their hatred and they never succeeded. I’ve seen my father remove a man’s skin without ever touching him. I’ll never forget the screams. I bet you’ve never seen anything like that.”

man skinned

“You’re right, Tidus. I’ve never seen magic like that. I’ve only seen what magic I could create with my hands and it was all based on fear. I had to make people fear me so they would respect me. I was the king of my turf.”

Tidus poked at the ground with a stick. “What’s the worst thing you ever did?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” Jonah cleared his throat. “I’m beginning to wonder if I really want off this island anymore. Now that you’re here, and we’re making it better, maybe I don’t want to go back to the mainland.”

“One thing I know, Jonah. We are both being tested. I can feel my father watching me from somewhere. I know he’s alive, but I don’t know why he doesn’t come and get me. Maybe I’m supposed to be here with you and these poor forgotten creatures that roam this island. You know they weren’t always this way, the Weilderwolves. They mutated into what they had to to survive here.”

“Are you talking about the fanged beasts?”

Tidus nodded.

“Maybe that is what I will do. Mutate.” Jonah spat on the ground. “If your father is alive and watching, then we need to show him the best of both of us. I’ve never cared about being the best at anything before except stealing, bullying and even killing. But, now I have a strong urge to be something better.”

Tidus spread his long webbed fingers out in front of him. “I can’t ever go back to the mainland. I would be tortured and probably killed.”

Jonah growled. “Not as long as I’m alive.”

A long minute of silence passed between them.

“Do you think you could start teaching me your magic, Tidus?” Jonah asked.

“I…I don’t know,” Tidus stuttered and his eyes glowed. “I’m not sure it is allowed.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

magic sorcerer