Okay, revisiting a short story because, well, why not?

From a Submission, ages ago…

Lor’afa

© 2015 Jon Corres Pirate Poet

The Hoverat or hover chariot stood motionless over the sand dune. A trading and space port stood pristine and vibrant over the spot that once held a stone keep. The fortress fell a decade prior, and at a cost that young princes Lor’afa felt was too dear. Her eyes stung with bitter tears as the vision of the captain of her guard lay dead before her in the burnt out rubble crossed her mind.

Silently, she cursed herself for being so callous, unfeeling and cruel to such an honourable young man. Despite Jora’l’s consistent efforts at being kind, considerate and loyal she had treated him worse than a slave. That tragic day, it had dawned on her as she was being led away from the battle. Jora’l had saved her from a great support beam from falling on her after a cannon round found the inner citadel. He laid her down between her other personal guard after running her through near white hot fire to get her to safety. He declared the others to stay with her until her father could arrive with relief and then only move if the structure began to weaken. Jora’l then ran back into the inferno to buy time for the small group to be rescued.

That was the last time she saw him alive. He chanced one final look in her direction. Was it resignation in his eyes did she see? For what seemed an eternity the princess saw a glimpse of the inner pain that her protector carried within. Then, he disappeared and she found herself being forcefully held back and carried in the direction of the delivery doors.

The rest, as she adjusted her Hoverat, was a blur of activity she thought she’d never should have survived. Admittedly, it was a small raid by an overly ambitious prince. On the other hand, it was a diversion for a larger force of arms that her father, King Olan’m was grimly prepared for. Skiffs and other craft arrived within moments of her being escorted from the besieged fortress.

She was covered in soot and was coughing for all the smoke, but still she held out hope for Jora’l. There was a lot between them, but the least she could do was be sure she thanked him properly. It never occurred to the pampered princess just how deep the captain of her guard felt for her till after the siege.

Lor’afa ignored the pleas of her beleaguered remaining guards and made for the ruins. She could see her father’s advanced guard and his personal battle wagon coming across the desert sea as she carefully made for the citadel that Jora’l had made for. Near the top that was now sitting five stories lower in the sand she found her gallant knight.

His eyes were fixed upon his right hand as his left lay across his lap. It was clear he had passed some time earlier. His quarry, the power mad prince was pinned against the wall with a sword through his heart. A permanent look of shock, anger and fear in his eyes. Then, slowly, as she leaned over to see if Jora’l was dead she noticed what was in his clenched right hand. Gently, she removed the item and found to her shock and amazement that it was a favour she herself had given him years ago! Lor’afa stayed frozen as the memories, mostly bad, came flooding back to her.

All the recollections of times she acted like a pompous twit and treated him worse than a mere slave assailed her like darts hurled by an angry hunter. What crushed her was when she looked into Jora’l’s dead eyes.

There were tears! He knew his time had come and all he could think of was her. That was the sadness and resignation she witnessed before he died. This scared veteran, a man who looked much older than his years, had cared so much for her that he was willing to take the mistreatment and cruelty just to be at her side. It had never occurred to Lor’afa to see him such a light. His bravery, honour and courage – all devoted to her out of unrequited love.

All that price paid and all he had to show for it was a kerchief. This was the lesson her mother spoke of and that Jora’l had hinted to in the past. She found herself gently kissing his cheek before sitting back on her feet and crying like a baby for what seemed for ever. Some time later, Lor’afa knew she had been helped to her feet, to meet her father who was concerned for her.

She steadied herself and ignored hand maids, her weak fiancée and the doctors to walk directly to Olan’m. The conversation was brief and Lor’afa had it burned in her memory. She thrust the bloodied and lightly burnt favour at him.

“ Did you know this? All this time? Why didn’t you tell me?! WHY?!”

The king locked eyes with his bereaved daughter. He shifted in his own blood stained and charred armour uncomfortably before waving aside his attendants and quieting the throng around him and answering as calmly and gently as possible.

“ Some lessons must be learnt the hard way. We both tried – Jora’l and I, as did your mother, but you wouldn’t or weren’t ready to hear it or learn it for yourself. Your stubborn mentality, borne from me I believe, was never really tempered with your mother’s kindness. There were times when Jora’l and I would have loved to have shaken you or do something to awaken you to your plight. However, I, as he knew, couldn’t force you to do something or acknowledge anything you were against doing.”

He paused to quell his urge to both cry and scream. “ As a parent, I had to let you make choices – decisions – for yourself. They were your problems and you had to grow up to see the solutions for what they were. I could never have helped you and it wouldn’t have been fair to you if I had. I have to say I am as devastated by the loss of Jora’l as you are; More so as he was the finest protector of your personal guard. Not to mention, he was the closest to a son that I had ever had! Yes, I knew he loved you – deeply. That cloud over your eyes, it worried us both to death. All I am going to say is; If you really did or do care about Jora’l, then you’ll become the woman and leader he, your mother and I all know you are! Don’t let this sacrifice be in vane! Now go and let the healers and doctors see to you. There are many who lost their lives today and as much as I’d like to mourn, I am a king, first and foremost.”

Ten years and those words still stung and haunted her. Ten long years and finally Lor’afa had found the courage to come back. She wanted to scream to the heavens for the divine pantheon to give her back her true love. Once more, as a decade prior, she found herself on her knees in tears. She never married the popinjay. Her heart had found what it sought and would never let it go till she passed on. She found her strength once more, stood and as she looked up she could swear she saw Jora’l standing on a nearby dune. His coal black eyes were softened by a kind smile that played over a well cropped beard. The image nodded sadly at her and pointed to its heart. Before it faded from view, the spirit of Jora’l bowed one final time and disappeared.

A promo for a friend and colleague…

Greetings oh people of the page and readers. This is going to be a brief plug for a friend and fellow author. During times like this, it’s nice to give a book shout instead of the usual flames as of late.

https://www.blkdogpublishing.com/vulture-king

This is a very fascinating fantasy! The blurb definitely catches the eye and I’m sure that it will be a very exciting and fun read! Please, get this one for yourself – especially if you’re into the fantasy genre – or for a local library!

And while you’re at it… do look over past blogs for links to other indie authors and artists and don’t hesitate to be a kind reader and give them a look..

For now, yours truly

~ The Pirate Poet

A thought, insight (?) and a few other rants, concepts and such…

Okay, this has been a ROUGH week or so. I admit, things have been coming to a head for a while on the political and social fronts. I truly feel for the people who suffer the injustices that have been ocurring for the last century plus now.
That being said, my first rant is :
Lay off Classic Literature. Period. It’s not to be blamed for every racist, sexist outburst from brain dead morons who still think that Christian White Males are the absolute rulers of the world.
Like the violence they enact or foster on others, it doesn’t matter which book it is they quote. The fact is, they have this ingrained in their very psyche/soul by parents and other family members who harbour this rubbish way of thinking.
If we truly want to move forward, sheltering from the past is a BIG no – no. Literature reflects the times, society and the upbringing of the author and if they grew or simply fell in line to the mentality of the crowd.
Popular culture – a few dictating to the many – tells what is acceptable and not these days. This is rubbish. This is turning people into reactionary automatons and not people.
Maybe some day, the point will make itself clear. Some day, we’ll solve and prevent such massive injustice as opposed to hindering or preventing it.
End of first rant ( Maybe more )

For now, on to Poetry… This is something I wrote a while ago, say a day or two… Please enjoy and maybe consider the words for a moment, if you would be so kind.

Moon Night

The rising moon looks balefully down
Would it so, the paying of respects
To bless a the departed on their way
Make for the shadows
Skirt the curtain of night
Have a care upon moors
On the streets, doubt the light
Of lone haunting wails
A hum of tears shed in grief and anger
All from on high, the dancing lights abound
A Dance of many movements
A song of fury and lament
Clean are the ways made by the blood of innocent and impure alike
What calls this madness on?
So few seem to recall
Only the reaper has the toll
None shall reveal, for only the extinguished lights can shed answers
Their voices are too distant to be understood
Shall we forget, as in dreams or nightmares come morning light?
To when do we owe more than homage for each candle?
For heavenly light to shine, life must be full
Lest the skies, even the moon, fail to illuminate

Now, to the news of the publishing variety …
I am , oh so close to finish typing up Elder Offensive: Ammutseba’s Stand. I just need the liquid courage, er, the added motivation to do so. Please, forgive me, killing characters off is a chore sometimes and I want the deaths not to be boringly predictable, okay?

Okay – Next Rant or rather observation ~
You really want change? Change how you look at things and things will change. That’s the broadstroke look. Basically, you have the power within you. No one can take that from you – EVER! If you feel you don’t have it or someone is messing with you mojo – Take charge. Reconnect with that inner strength and never let anyone talk you out of using it.
To change what’s going on the in the world, we have to embrace the true meaning of 2012. It’s the end of the world ” As We Know It “. Not the physical end. Not even all our lives wiped out.
The way we were doing things was off base, off kilter and just not working. The system is broken, needs to be tossed and how we put people in office needs a 180 degree turn.

  1. We need representatives – law enablers, NOT law makers.
  2. Listening is a PRIMARY skill requirement. You may get all across the spectrum ideas, but you’re encouraging and inviting all in the process. They may not like you, but you will have their consideration and will be more active in a helpful way rather than destructive
  3. Next, no more meme’s, commercials or anything for radio and television. You’re supposed to be showing your worth for the job of representative/president/etc. – This is not a Game Show or Reality T.V audition.
  4. Finally, for voters – Enough with the 3rd – Nth party idiocy. It’s a job interview that could potentially change thousands, millions or billions of lives and liveliehoods. Forget the sound good, sound bites, video clips, etc. VOTE WITH YOUR CONSCIENCE! THINK! Don’t ever, EVER, believe your vote is for nothing. It’s your right, voice and power – fight for it. Make the system count you as a person!


This is also not a ” I voted and that’s it ” siuation. This is step one. The first step. Next is keeping your candidate and your system honest. Don’t just stand there and let them walk all over you. Hold your candidate responsible and accountable. Make the system stay honest and if someone interferes from the outside, re do the election till you get it right – THIS IS IMPORTANT! No one is above the law. And if you want to break the debt cycle, hold people of the 1% accountable it is imperative you stay the course.

Next, and finally, please stay safe and well! When the dust settles and the fires are put out, maybe we’ll see how and where we should have changed to avoid this – All of it.

~ The Pirate Poet