The 500 Reader Announcement
To say that I was surprised when we hit 300 was nothing to when we hit 400 no more than five days later. Now, only a week from that time, here we are. Last time I made a follower announcement, no more. You are readers. Many of you are writers, and I follow each and every one of you because because the people that follow me tend to be talented, thoughtful, and interesting.
When we reached 300 I told you my goal was to create a community, since then I have done much. I have joined the staff of burningmuse. I have opened an email account where anyone can reach and speak with me. I have given everyone access to my skype. I have edited your work, gladly, because watching fellow writers grow and seeing how incredible and creative you all are is a pleasure and privilege.
I would like to tell you a little about what I want to do, should the numbers keep rising or if they should not.
1. I want to work on and improve my writing as you read and enjoy Arthur and my other work.
2. I want to enjoy your writing and help everyone that wants it grow and improve.
3. I want to create more than just a blog. I want to create a community of writers on tumblr that help each other and review each other and work with each other so that we can all have the incredible experience that I have had.
To the first two, the goals are steadily met and approached, but to the third I have done little for right now we are very few.
However, steps are being taken and planned. I have been working on a blog in my spare time that you will become aware of in a few weeks. It will give those of us willing to work with each other access to one another. If you want someone to review your work, you will get it and at the same time help someone who wants the same.
I am aware of other sites that do this, but Tumblr is slightly different. It is both a social site and a site where we come for ourselves. This combination means that it attracts people who want a personal connection with others while at the same time benefiting from the relationship. I do not mean this harshly, for as we want we also want to care. This is only an analytical observation.
I can’t wait to continue my journey here, and I really hope, I mean this, that you will come along with me.
Sincerely,
Jacob H. Levin (a.k.a. Ecrid)
Merlin: On the Run
Merlin
The paltry trick with light did not so much involve insinuating new light into the ceiling as it did taking light that was already there and spreading out a bit, like buttering bread. The boy seemed impressed enough though, and I was certainly not going to explain my parlor tricks, lest I found myself in an outcome where he chose to run.
I couldn’t have that, now could I? I have to guide him, lead him. Train him.
Show him.
Unfortunately, I still had no idea what he looked like. First, I met him in the dark, then I turned my back on him and led him out. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this, and it would be terrible if I turned around to study his face in mid-stride. So there we were, him plodding along behind me like the pup he is, and me, well, shuffling. I would say I have a decent shuffle. I knew it was him though. I could smell excalibur’s power, a raw musk of Avalos’ gift stretching out and away from us in every direction, raising hairs on the back of my neck and skull. I could sense its destiny slowly take hold of its master, the boy, and shape his world forever into the night.
I led him out of the building where our means of conveyance awaited.
“What is that? Is that a…That,” noted the boy, “is a taxi-bike.”
I replied, “They are called rickshaws, Arthur.” I would have given him a pointed stare, but that is when one of my runes, placed several blocks out, tripped. It told me that someone was coming, someone with the intention of killing the once and future king.
This perturbed me. I had been making the part about assassin’s coming up to coax him into the bleeding rickshaw. I breathed out a sigh.
“Get in, boy.”
“Oh, now it’s boy again, is it?”
“Yes, now get in the cart or you will, in all likelihood, get shot while you tarry,” I remarked, climbing myself into the back. It only took one gunshot to convince him to get in. He put himself beside me, looking frightened. It was still too black for me to see him, which annoyed me. Then, the second shot blasted out and a moaning engine led by headlights came into view.
“Go! Onward, you junk heap!” I shouted at the rickshaw. The rickshaw hurtled forward, my magic pounding away at its peddles faster than any pair of legs could hope to match.
