The tide of unmaking, p.46
The Tide of Unmaking, page 46
part #3 of Berinfell Prophesies Series
The Elves. What about the Elves? They had shown her acceptance, even genuine concern at the loss of her people. No, not her people. The Taladrim. A noble race, but not her people. This was her people, here. Her mother’s bloodline, her father’s. The Dark Arts that surely coursed through her veins. She could rule everything.
“I could end this all,” she whispered. “No more war, no more death.” She let the little vial roll around in her hand, feeling the heat of it kiss her flesh. This was Asp’s venom, yes, but it came from her mother, from her father. It was alive. And it belonged in her.
She held the vial aloft and stared into its depths.
The Seven sat beneath the stars on a grand portico gathered around a flaming brazier. The summer night was alive with the sounds of the woods, and throughout the city the valiant tales of epic battles as told by minstrel bards rang out. They enjoyed evening drinks atop the heaps of food that sat in their bellies from a long night of feasting, no thanks in part to Mumthers’ beloved handiwork.
“May we join you?” asked Grimwarden, escorting a very lovely Goldarrow on his arm.
“Why of course!” Tommy exclaimed, standing with the others in honor of their beloved friends. Jett and Johnny pulled over more chairs as Goldarrow was seated and Grimwarden limped to his designated chair.
“You’re very kind,” he said to Jett, laying his cane across his thighs.
“Feeling stronger?” asked Jett.
“A little everyday, thanks to you,” Grimwarden replied.
“It’s my honor, Guardmaster. I expect you to be walking on your own within the week,” said Jett.
Grimwarden leaned in. “Let’s not make it too fast,” he said, “lest Goldarrow here stop doting on me.” Everyone had a good laugh with Goldarrow casting him a sly smile.
A short time later Taeva joined them as did a few others. Regis strode over and casually sat on the arm of Jimmy’s chair, and Mr. Charlie took a seat on the floor close to the fire. Bengfist and Jast walked in later, both opting to stand, and Migmar and Thorkber shared a single chair. The night carried on with toasts and laughter, recounting of stories both old and new, and endeared itself to all of them as one of their more memorable nights. One they’d soon not forget––Grimwarden would make certain of that.
“Well, well, before I head off to bed, as it’s been a fine evening you’ve provided us, my Lords,” he dipped his head in deference, “I confess that I have a small gift I’ve been saving for you.” Grimwarden’s face grew a bit solemn. “I’d feared I might not be able to give it to you. And surely I wouldn’t have, had it not been for the students I trained back in Whitehall who have saved my life––saved all of our lives––on more than one occasion.”
“Whitehall,” Kat reminisced. “Those were wonderful days.” The group all nodded.
“Indeed they were,” Grimwarden continued. “And it’s from Whitehall that this gift comes.”
“Oh? How do you mean?” inquired Tommy
Grimwarden sat back a little in his chair and took a deep breath. “There was an exercise I had you do, the very first one, as I recall.” He looked among the Lords, waiting.
“The blind walk,” Autumn piped up. “In the cave!”
“The very same,” Grimwarden confirmed.
“I got so mad at you, Johnny,” said Autumn.
“We all got mad at each other, as I recall,” added Jimmy. “We were a ramshackle lot, we were.”
“You were, you were,” laughed Grimwarden.
“And I never heard the end of it,” Goldarrow added. “He brought that one up every day for weeks!” The group chuckled.
“So did you ever wonder?” Grimwarden asked. The group grew silent, looking at each other. “Well, did you?”
Johnny wrinkled his brow, and asked, “Wonder about what?”
“Why, wonder what was in the clay pot I had you retrieve, of course.”
“The clay pot!” exclaimed Kiri Lee. “I’d totally forgotten about that!” Everyone else nodded in agreement, excited that Grimwarden might soon tell them.
“Are you going to tell us?” Kat felt like she was thirteen again. “Are you?”
Grimwarden just smiled.
“Well, are you?” asked Johnny.
“No, no, I suppose not,” replied Grimwarden, to which the group replied with a rumpus round of cajoling and clapping. “Easy now, easy now,” said Grimwarden, trying to get everyone to settle down, all the while clearly enjoying the process. “I’ll not tell you anything. But I will show you.”
And with that, Grimwarden reached inside his cloak and produced a single, white piece of paper, holding it gently in his lap face down. It had some strange marking on the back, Tommy noticed.
That’s when Grimwarden flipped it around for all to see. It was a post card, with a picture of Earth taken from the Hubble Space Telescope.
All at once the Lords held their breath and slowly got out of their seats. They moved reverently toward Grimwarden and knelt around his chair like children marveling at a bedtime story.
The sight of Earth, suspended in all her glory amidst the star-speckled black depths of space, brought tears to each of their eyes.
“Where––where did you get this?” Tommy asked, clearing his throat.
“You had it all along?” asked Kat.
“While we were hunting for you, I found it in a shop. I was struck with the beauty of the planet Ellos made, and that the human race developed technologies that allowed them to see it from His perspective.”
Grimwarden flipped the card over for himself to see. “It’s so sad that their kind have the ability to see it just as He sees, yet still refuse to believe He cares about them.” The old war hero shook his head. “Anyway, I didn’t know how things would go at the time, but I thought you should remember the world that Ellos saved you on.”
Kat reached for the post card, receiving it from Grimwarden as if handling a page of text from the original Berinfell Prophecies. “It’s so beautiful,” she said as if too many words might make it disappear. Looking up to him, she added, “Thank you, Grimwarden. We will cherish it always.” Kat flipped it over and read the printed text in caption.
“Go ahead,” Grimwarden said, “read it aloud.”
Kat swallowed, then mustered her strength. “For by Him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in the Earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by Him, and for Him: and by Him all things consist.” Kat sat back. “Colossians 1:16-17,” she finished.
“Thank you, Grimwarden,” Tommy said, echoed by all the others. “While we know we can never go back, somehow, this helps a great deal. And we will never forget.”
“Nor should you,” said Grimwarden. “How fitting that you had to work together, fighting your way through darkness, to bring me a clay vessel that housed the Earth, only for you to be clay vessels that saved the Earth in the midst of great darkness. Such was your call from the very beginning.”
The Seven sat for a long time, gathered there at Grimwarden’s feet, starring into the fire and getting lost in the stars above. It had been an adventure they’d never forget.
“I would’na trade it for anything,” said Jimmy finally. “It was all worth it.”
“That it was,” said Tommy.
It was Kat who sat holding the post card for a long time. She muttered something under her breath.
“What’d you say?” asked Tommy.
“Sorry, it was nothing,” Kat brushed it off.
“No, really. What’d you say, Kat?”
Kat sighed. “Well, I was just thinking. We’ve become something, you know. We were nobodies, and now look at us. Lords of Berinfell, saving whole planets. So I just got to wondering about them.”
“Them?” asked Kiri Lee.
“Yeah,” Kat held up the post card. “This story isn’t over. Not here. Not back on Earth. I just wonder what the next generation will become.”
THE END
To Our Readers
This is the end . . . but the stories have just begun.
From the very beginning, we never felt that this story was our own. By virtue of the fact that we were co-writing these books, there has always seemed to be a strong sense of community surrounding The Berinfell Prophecies. From the many real people, places and circumstances that inspired us, to the Elves of The Underground who helped shape the plot and encourage us along the way, these stories were never owned. They were shared.
As a result, we are doing something that has never been done before in the history of publishing, at least in as much as we know. We are turning The Berinfell Prophecies over to you, our faithful readers.
We believe there are far more authors out there who the world needs to hear from than the traditional publishing model has ever allowed. With the astonishing rise of self-publishing from vanity publishing to preferred solution for established authors, it’s never been easier to reach people with stories than it is today.
We’ve purposefully left a number of threads undone in this final installment in the hopes that those writers, perhaps even you, would pick up where we left off…that you’ll pen the tales we never could.
Like any true passing of the mantle, there are a few guidelines we insist you follow. Should you choose to self-publish a work of your own, it’s imperative that you apply the same values we have in developing books:
1. Work hard on writing-craft. Like artisans of old, we believe that fine art comes from dedication to the respective disciplines of the trade. We’re not perfect writers, but together we’ve penned tens of thousands of words in our joint collection of titles. This represents years of our lives. We read good writers (and avoid bad ones), study their styles and adopt sound habits. We meet together with other writers and share our work for critical review. Don’t have a writing group in your area? Start one yourself. Look for others in your family, your church or your school who share similar passions, and make a point to connect with them. Be truthful, and say everything with kindness.
2. Let lots of eyes read your manuscript. Once you’ve written what you feel is a Berinfell-worthy book, put it in the hands of others. Save your money and let a qualified editor read it and pick it apart (it will be one of the best investments you ever make); we both have editors who we recommend and you can always ask around The Underground. With or without an editor, you should also gather a group of Proofies like we do. These are readers who are very familiar with the story, and can point out everything from plot and formatting inconsistencies, to bad grammar, to poor sentence structure. Your goal should be to make your manuscript as clean as you can, knowing it will never be perfect…that’s because it’s art.
3. Create a strong end product. There are many tools available to you to help create both physical and digital books, with more emerging all the time. But trial and error and your critical eye will be techniques that ensure your final presentation to the public is a good one. Now, we don’t expect every Berinfell story from this point on to look and feel exactly like ours; they need to be your own. But they always must strive for excellence, which is simply doing the best with what you have in the time you have it. We recommend using the services of BookJolt.com if you do not have knowledge of formatting books for print or e-readers. There is also a wealth of information that outlines exactly what we’ve done for The Tide of Unmaking in Christopher’s ebook on how to self-publish your manuscript (see christopherhopper.com for more details). The steps are not hard, but they do require time and dedication. By taking your time to produce solid material for readers, you’ll take major steps in ensuring the long-term success of your story and building an audience that wants to read what you have to say.
So have at it! You have our expressed written permission. These characters, these places, these themes are all yours. Dream, write, publish. Do what we never could, and go further than we are today. Our hope is that an entire library of Berinfell Prophecies will emerge over the coming years, and that the threads of truth in them all will bring people closer to knowing the Savior of the world.
Endurance and Victory!
Wayne Thomas Batson and Christopher Hopper
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Eldersburg, MD and Clayton, NY, USA
Acknowledgments
From WTB and CH:
To all the Elves of The Underground: Endurance and Victory! Special thanks to the continued inspiration and enthusiasim of EaglesWings, Goldarrow, Millard, The Seventh Sleeper, Jake, TAK, SciFiAuthor, Chris, Vrenith, Hark, The Golux, Manny, Brianna, Anduril, Seth, Anna, SilverLake, Alastrina, Jared, Pingpong, ElvenPrincess, Squeaks, Seth E, and Olivia—as always, you rock!
To our publicist, agent, and friend, Gregg Wooding—we are forever in your debt for getting publishing doors to open, keeping them open, and encouraging us when they close. God’s richest blessings to you, our friend.
A special thanks to Thomas Nelson Publishing (Laura Minchew and AnnJanette Toth in particular) for inviting Christopher and I to write together on this series and for allowing us continue it with The Tide of Unmaking. Thank you to editors Beverly Phillips and June Ford for helping us make the first two books of the series sparkle. Christopher and I truly hope we’ve continued the story with quality storytelling and high standards that would make you all proud.
A shout out to our fellow Spearheaders, Christopher and Allan Miller in Seattle, and to the amazing Athena Dean: you’ve been a tremendous source of encouragement and a boon of knowledge in the leap to self-publishing. We truly cherish you three.
To Rachel Harris, Marisa Miranda, and Ryan Paige Howard, thank you for all the help promoting the books...and for being cool.
Facebook Fans (esspecially Jamie Gil): thanks for making sure this book got finished by frequently offering threats of great torture as penalty for NOT finishing it.
Special thanks to the fine establishments that have allowed us to darken their doorstep with our laptops and consume tables all day and all night: Barley Creek Tavern in the Poconos, The Banshee and Backyard Ale House in Scranton, the Brickstore in Atlanta, the Blind Pig in Champaign, O’Llordan’s in Westminster, Martin’s Grocery and Panera Bread here in Eldersburg, and probably a dozen other places.
Jeff Hanson, Squid.org, Sam Stoddard at Rinkworks, and The Donjon for making the coolest fantasy name generators on the planet!
Lastly, to our faithful Proofies, who made sure we stayed on track and kept the manuscript sparkling: Jake Buller, Tim Vehrs, Sarah Pennington, Glade, Noah Arsenault (Winter’s Read), Abigail Goenner, Emma McPhee, and the infamous Billy Jepma – your names will be forever emblazed on this manuscript (aka: bragging rights for life).
From WTB:
To my Wife: thank you for supporting this new venture of ours. To leave the safety of conventional publishing is both wonderful and scary, and I couldn’t take the risk without you supporting me. By God’s mighty grace, we have weathered a very stormy season of life. Through it all, your devotion to God and to me is a blessing I can scarcely describe. I love you. 1C13
Kayla, Tommy, Bryce, and Rachel: God bless you, young adventurers. Boys, may you be tender warriors for the Lord, and girls, swordmaidens for truth. You aren’t little kids anymore, which makes me sad. But at the same time, I know this is really where God’s amazing plans for you will begin to take shape. I can’t wait. Thank you for putting up with your author Dad so that I can pursue God’s plan for me on this giant spinning mudball. I love you.
Mom and Dad: Thank you for your continuing support of me, my family, and my books. Thank you for setting such a great example of marriage and companionship. And…let’s play cards soon. Much love!
Leslie, Jeff, and Brian—So grateful for you and your families! Stoked to watch your adventures unfold!
To dear friends/family: Ed, Deanna, Diana, Andy, Lorraine, Olin, Jordan, Christian, Matthew, Tyler, Abigail, Deborah, Annalise, Daniel, Samuel, Nikki, Ashley, Dillon, Patti (Lil Tyler), Sadie, Lochlan, Kaitlin, Josh, Kaleb, Luke, and Lydia. Dave, Heather, Doug, Christine, Chris, Dawn, Mat, Serrina, Susan, Alaina, Chris, Leslie, Jeff, Eric, Alex, Noelle, Todd, Dan, Warren, and so many others who enrich this adventure.
To Bill Russell: thank you for believing in BIG things. In you, I’ve always seen reflected the fact that God is not small, nor weak, nor shortsighted. He is mighty. He is spectacularly HUGE and is willing to include us in the greatest plan the world has ever known. Iron sharpens iron, bro.
To the administrators, faculty and staff, my friends at Folly Quarter Middle, thank you for never settling for less than the best for our students. Thank you for the incredible support and understanding, knowing that I am a man divided by three passions: family, teaching, and writing. Each one of you inspire me to be better at all three.
To my students, past and present: 22 years times @120 students per year. Whoa! That is a lot of kids. Please know that I am grateful for every one of you. You are dynamic, intelligent, magnificently strange…and you are all precious to me. Thank you for reading my stories…even before they were actually any good. Pip pip cheerio!
Sir Christopher Hopper: can you believe it? By God’s grace we’ve penned a trilogy together. Howzzat for coolness, eh? What a strange adventure this has been. I’m so grateful for your friendship and steadfast faith. I’m a little bummed not to be teaming up with you again, but seriously stoked to see you turn your fiction voice loose with your next several novels.
