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Saturday, October 14, 2023

[Fiction][Excerpt][Green Ruins & Shallow Blues][Book II: FRUITFUL]

(c) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

Ayrqthon went first and held [the ladder] braced for Geas' descent. The chamber was cubic, with a cube inside it approximately three-quarters the size. The black rock from which it was carved exhibited properties of Jet, as well as Obsidian, as if the two were somehow one mineral and not mixed. It had a wet look to it but their footing was no less secure than on the roof before their climb down. Geaselle stooped to touch her fingers to its surface, and almost recoiled. She stood and looked at her husband. Ayrqthon crouched, placed his five digits upon it and closed his eyes; his handsome features lit by the torch Geas carried.
Syr Acaer lifted his left hand while his right remained in contact; from the palm of his left sprang a black flame which danced and swirled, leapt and forked. The Tsawbrer of Dabil Arasoya brought her own fingers near and felt the flames as something akin to the abrasive scour of a dust-storm, although she could not recall she ever had been in one such. Its sting was granular and vibratory, but so gentle as to almost feel luxurious, as when one traces one's fingers across velvet. She dared further place her hand within it, and Ayrqthon caused the flame to increase in volume and intensity; the sensation now was similar to play in pure sand, its vibration the same, but now doubled. Her gown's sleeve caught flame and it burned before her eyes but she felt no pain; out of curiosity, she allowed it to burn further, but then, did smother it under her left hand with no ill effect upon her flesh. She brought her torch of fire bright closer and saw that the threads of her gown were severed, disarrayed, bleached -- the leached colour had spread before the black flame, and those areas were threadbare.
-- "It ages what it burns, abrades it --"
"Like sandstorms weather rock over centuries."
Ayrqthon with blackened flame adark, moved to engulf the yellow fire of her torch--
-- "Syr, no!"
He looked to her; she calmed; he moved on his hand to the fire bright. Its glow dimmed by fractioned halves. At his approach it ambered, umbered, marooned, and then was naught but a reddish black. Ayrqthon's flame worked-loose embers, and splinters. It knocked free small coals of the wood home of blazing fire flaming. As these particles were dislodged, most failed to fly free, instead they were consumed into smaller and smaller embers. Then as stars adying, winked out into the nothingness of the chamber. The fire was snuffed, the torch a ragged, shaggy stump asmoulder.

[Art] Besties

The Day Together

(c) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

[Art] Autumn's Bountiful Table

Rock Bridge

(c) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

[Art] I Was Young When I Left Home

Heart's Huntress

(c) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

[Art] Contemplation


(c) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

[Book Review] The Closest We May Get to Reading, The King in Yellow, in the Real World

Brian George's erudite esotericism is balanced by his wry wit and playful wordsmithing; these pieces are time capsules; they are soulish sweet-tarts which like words the prophets ate which were sweet in the mouth but rumbly in the tummy; these ideas are ear-worms of the psyche and continue to work on the reader after the eyes have moved from the page to the events transpiring around the reader; they need not be read in linear order; chaos would like you to do so; wisdom shrugs her shoulders and the l'il angel and li'l devil both tumble to the ground; the birds in the golden apple tree wait to sing to your bones -- all as the anti-sun implodes and time begins.  I have read his early works, I have read his middle works, I have read these works: he is apostle to the trickster gods.  Prove me wrong

Available on Amazon

[Art] Additional tweaks with added realism

With a new set of tags, I am now able to greatly enhance the natural surroundings, while still maintaining the more Illustrated look of the figures.  In this case, the realism of the tower is notable while still being 'unreal' in its fanciful nature.

I'm beginning to think this may be my ideal artform.  ;)