Gwendoline's Story

By Loren Elias

As she finds herself swept away into the enchanted caves that are said to be the only safe place for her,she learns that no place is safe except that which we make so ourselves.
Will a dashing knight come to rescue her?
Will she ever return home to the people and the life she so loved?

In this short story excerpt from Sorrow’s Twin Sister:Book 3 of The Healer’s Creed Series,a tormented young girl struggles to understand her power,to control it.Can any goodness arise from this curse or is she no more than the monster her beloved uncle declared her to be?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Loren Elias
• Release date: Dec 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301491131

Loren Elias

I am a city dweller living in the Southern United States who often dreams, as many of us do,of times when you would ride two weeks on horseback to get to the next city, news spread upon the lips of a bard, and your life could be snuffed out at any time by an offended mage.I am a student of world religion, philosophy, linguistics and history; a practitioner of martial arts and a dabbler in alternative medicines.I come from a long line of Healers. Nurses, Doctors, and Pharmacists(once called witches) are among my ancestors so my current project, The Healer's Creed Series, while set in fantasy-based medieval times, is both a tribute to the healing arts and an allegory of sorts for the contradictions that plague a Healer as he strives to uphold the creed to which he has sworn himself in modern times.From the Hippocratic Oath:... I will keep them from harm and injustice.I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody if asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect. Similarly I will not give to a woman an abortive remedy. In purity and holiness I will guard my life and my art.I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work...What I may see or hear in the course of the treatment or even outside of the treatment in regard to the life of men, which on no account one must spread abroad, I will keep to myself holding such things shameful to be spoken about.If I fulfill this path and do not violate it, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, being honored with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely. may the opposite of all this be my lot. End.

Book preview

Gwendoline’s Story

A Complete Short Story for your enjoyment

Excerpt from Book 3 of The Healer’s Creed Series

To be released Summer 2013

Loren Elias

Copyright Loren Elias 2012

Published at Smashwords

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Part 1

(Seventeen harvests past)

Tree swallows dipped and swam on the crisp, cool morn; spilling into the air trills and chatter only delighting the ears. Their bright blue plumage fell in contrast with the solid white clouds that tumbled across this hillside as it burst into the sunlight in shades of pink and yellow and pale, pale blue.

The girl having seen but fifteen harvests could only lie there as shadows and light rolled across her form. She could only find awe in the sights and sounds and smells of a flowering field in planting season. Bees buzzed past her face as if to say hello to the young woman who had joined them this fine day. Butterflies so nearly mistook her for a flower as again and again they tried to land on her nose.

She had brought with her a book, a splendid tale of love and adventure, but she could not call herself to crack the cover, for at that moment the world around she found simply too beautiful to hide behind oft-used beige pages.

Her life had been a pauper’s dream, never in want, never sad, never without. Everything in life had been given to her for her mother was the only sister of a High Councilor in the Province of Flannigan. Upon his sister, upon his niece, he had showered every luxury, every jewel, every gown a man of his status might afford, and he had never been lacking.

Gwendoline had grown up in her uncle’s castle, with great pink washed buttresses and high white towers. A small castle, it was, when compared to the dwelling of some other High Councilors, but still a sight to behold and the only home Gwendoline had really ever known.

She had servants who tended to her every whim and wish. Every day might as well have been Harvest Day as day after day her uncle’s subjects brought her gifts as a way to pay homage to her uncle’s strength and kindness.

Yes, she had everything that her young heart might desire so why did she dream of something more, of a great armored knight, with a head of wind swept blond and a face strong but kind upon a white horse coming to take her away, showing her the world far beyond Flannigan’s hills and forests and streams, one like she had read about in her beloved books of lore, one who she could call her own, one who would love her forever and ever without end.

Mistress Gwendoline, Mistress Gwendoline. A voice met Gwendoline’s ear.

It fell to her as an annoyance for it was neither the buzz of a bee nor the chirp of a swallow. She heard footsteps bounding up the hill, through the knee