A Mermaid is Formed

As the Titan, Astraeus, covered the sky with darkening colors, a shadowy head peaked above the waves of Poseidon. Her inky black hair flowed with the weight of the water as she emerged onto the sandy beach. The starlight glittered off of her hair and into the water like falling diamonds.

She walked across the beach towards a picnic table as seashells formed beneath her feet. Bright emerald eyes enhanced her translucent green skin. Aquamarine, connected by strips of tiny shells, hung from her forehead. She ended her walk at a picnic bench. Upon sitting, the picnic table turned into a mosaic of tiny shells and ocean sand.

As she sat there a clear pool of water sprang up, surrounding her delicate ankles. As she gazed jeweled eyes at Artemis’ sacred palace glowing brightly in the sky, a soft voice behind her whispered, “Ambrosine! You came.”

Ambrosine turned to face the newcomer. Her pixieish features were full of hope. Her dark, wavy hair blew in the light breeze provided by the trees and sapphire blue eyes were brighter than a bolt of lightening. “Of course I did. You’ve been praying to meet your ancestors since you found your mother’s book. Why should such as simple wish not be granted, when you’ve been talking to us for years.”

“Mother said no one ever answered her prayers,” the child whined.

Ambrosine shook her dark head and replied, “Gaiana, we can’t answer all prayers. Yours struck the heart of the queen of the oceans herself,” Ambrosine explained as she reached slim fingers forward to caress the child’s ragged and tangled hair.

“Your family’s blood runs strong in you, Gaiana,” Ambrosine murmured. Her fingers left a trail of kelp and sand entangled in the child’s hair.

“Mother doesn’t think so,” Gaiana answered mournfully.

Ambrosine smiled mischievously and answered, “Sea kelp wouldn’t wind through your hair otherwise,” Ambrosine returned as she cupped the child’s jaw.

As she pulled her hand away, Ambrosine noticed a dark spot form on the Gaiana’s cheek.

“You’ve been harmed, little one,” she asked in confusion.

“She doesn’t mean it,” Gaiana answered trembling.

“Our blood does not harm each other,” Ambrosine sternly informed.

“There’s nothing that can be done,” Gaiana reasoned.

“Yes there is. Our beliefs may no longer be prevalent, Gaiana, but we still hold power,” Ambrosine insisted.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Gaiana said as tears fell from her sapphire colored eyes.

“We can help you,” Ambrosine insisted with a nod.

“How?”

“Come home with me. Queen Amphitrite would welcome you under her protection and I could teach you our ways,” Ambrosine kindly enticed.

“I wouldn’t have to come back?”

“No Gaiana. A mermaid you would stay, along with the rest of your long lived kin.”

“Please take me home,” Gaiana whispered prayerfully.

With a gentle smile Ambrosine stood and took the child’s hand. As they walked back to the ocean, Gaiana’s legs began to feel weak and slimy. When they stepped into the welcoming waves, a strength of power filled her little body. When the water was waist deep, Gaiana looked down. No longer did she see two thin little legs. Instead she saw a swirl of green, purple and blue. She could barely make out the translucent form of her fins. The grin that lit her face caused Ambrosine laugh harder than the waves.

“Come Gaiana, it is time to meet your future.”

As the sun began to rise the two mermaids disappeared from the mortal and into one that only they could see.

Celebrating Freedom Prompt

This is the prompt I ran across the other day. You just know I had to answer it. Without further ado, I give you “Celebrating Freedom”.

He’s dead. We are finally rid of the tyrant known as Caligula and are free. His little boots no longer crush us in fear. No more do we have to fear for our lives or our wives. The Praetorian Guard took care of the tyrant and his family over the evening. They may have been a bit zealous when it came to his infant daughter, but no chance can be taken that his family will try to avenge his sadistic lifestyle. What he did to our wives and children was deplorable; but threatening to name a horse as his council – that is a dignity that no man should have to face.

 
Looking at the revelers around me, I can clearly see how afraid they were. This much wine didn’t even cross my lips when I married. Though I cared greatly for my wife, on that day I was fearful. What if the emperor wanted her or the dowry she carried? What if he felt we were trying to assassinate him? Though we weren’t at the time, those are the thoughts that ran rampantly through my head.

 
I remember the day Caligula was crowned, we were excited for the hope that he brought our country. The spring sun was hot that day. It seemed as though Sol himself were blessing the day at Jupiter’s command. Such divine signs were not to be ignored – and that was something the Romans had never done.

 
At first, his reign was healthy and energetic. That slowly turned to madness after the fever took him.

 
The day he was crowned was truly a splendorous sight that the Ancient City hadn’t seen in years. He freed wrongfully imprisoned citizens and abolished the imperial tax. He filled the stadiums with chariot races and gladiator games. The populace was happy. Until the fever.

 
That’s when we realized that maybe we should have listened to the rumors of his youth on the Island of Capri. Long had we heard the gossip of incest with his sister and joyfully watching executions. We had even heard of his love of torture. Still we thought some of his father’s good sense would stick with Caligula. Never would we have believed such heretic words.

 
No descendant of Caesar or Augustus should be so cruel. Then again, spending so much time in Tiberius’ company couldn’t have been good for him. That man was as sour and lecherous as they come.

 
When Caligula contracted brain fever as Jupiter commanded the seasons to turn we mourned. Our great hope was at Mors’ doors. We prayed to the Gods that we wouldn’t lose our greatest hope.

 
Looking back, I clearly see how bitterly the Gods answered our prayers. Caligula was not the same when he came back to us. No longer was he jovial and understanding. He had become bitter, cruel, and twisted.

 
When Caligula was well again he instituted a food tax. He resurrected treason trials and through his rank around as he thinned out the senate. Those horrendous trials replenished our treasury after his extravagant spending; so did his extortion when a senator fell asleep at an auction. Thirteen gladiators never cost a man so much.
Upon his sister, Drusilla’s death, he had her deified; he even had the nerve to commission coins in her image, beautiful though she was, Drusilla should never have been on a coin. That is an act that will not hold out the year; coins will be melted and deification revoked. The senate will use Damnatio Memorae to wipe Caligula’s cruelty from our history.

 
Worst of all he declared himself a living God. The powers of the divine are something no mortal should pretend to have. The temples and statues he erected in the Eternal City are being destroyed as this banquet takes place.

 
I have not seen such celebrations since Caligula was crowned; unlike that day though, the weather is far colder. This merriment is sure to last a generation as no man wants to take his liberty for granted any more.

 
One can only hope, that come morning the senate will have even better news for us to celebrate – after all, it isn’t every day that they will be able to choose a new emperor and a new hope. Until then we will celebrate the demise of the tyrant.

Cover Concept

I’ve started cover concepts for my next book. Which still has only a working title of Isis’ Savior. Playing around with other titles at the moment. At any rate I thought I would share the current concept with you. I am also sharing a snippet of the book with you. Feel free to leave any feedback! As always,

Happy Reading!

 

“When Bricius is in the room, the mark on Iseult’s arm will activate the cuneiform of the chair. The minute that happens they need to bolt from those chairs. The rangers will make sure that Iseult and Grandfather are out of those chairs. Once those who helped in sealing Mother Isis in stone are in those chairs, her stone prison will break.
“Bricius helped put Isis in that stone prison, he is the key to freeing her from it.
“For this to work though you are going to have let Iseult feel the pain you are helping her fight,” Haimi finished quietly. ” Haimi explained tiredly.
“Brady I hate to ask, but do you have the fire opal. I don’t want that stench in the house any more than it has to be,” Wilfrid sharply stated before anyone could object.
“I do. It is the brightest one that I possessed. The crown had requested a pendant be made of it, but in the circumstances I think they’ll understand a different usage,” Brady wryly answered as he opened the black pouch.
Wilfrid took the opal gingerly. As Wilfrid closed his eyes, his hand and the opal began to glow.
Eyes around the room began to widen at the almost magical site of fire growing where there was once no sparks.
Selk looked to Iseult and quietly asked, “Will you be able to handle the pain?”
“I will do whatever it takes to free us all,” Iseult answered confidently as she leaned into the iron chair. Tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes.
Slowly Iseult and Grandfather closed their eyes allowing the fireplace to go out. Wilfrid grasped the opal tightly allowing flames to surround the room, but not engulf it.
The flickering flames were accompanied by Master Evander chanting the writing on the parchment. Wilfrid kept the flames high as the house began to shake. The fireplace began to crack in two admitting a slim leg into the room.

 

New Idea for a Book Series

Hi all,

The other day I read a prompt that started to play with my mind. Anyways, as I was thinking about the prompt I came up with an idea for a new series loosely based on the Greek Gods. I thought I would share it with you and try to get an idea of what you think of it. Feel free to share any opinions you have! And as always,

Happy Reading

Two thousand years ago the world stopped believing, thus causing a long descent into utter chaos. As their beliefs faded so did their gods. Finally the essence of the gods was so week that their souls joined with the mortal world.

The gods are consistently reborn ever generation; never regaining their memories.

Humanities consistent association has left only one goddess to tend everything – Hestia, goddess of the hearth.

Hestia can no longer see the world suffer. So one by one she calls the gods home to Recreate Olympus.

The first to be called home is the lustful, temperamental god Zeus.