The Warrior God burst forth from the world’s first earthquake, shrouded in a light of gold. He is said to look like he is surrounded in a gold aura, which matches the sword he always keeps at his belt. Where his counterpart, Razibelle, protects the Gardens of Luas, Humurse watches over the natural world and its inhabitants.
Humurse is best known for his slaying of the Great Fears
that plagued the First People, saving them from extinction. There is said to be
a mark upon the earth where he appeared in a flash of light in the Old World,
though it has been lost to time.
The Warrior God is closely related to the summer, and is therefore celebrated during the celebration of the midsummer, Serendit Leva. His descendants are the warriors and blacksmiths, known for their creation and application of weapons to protect the Nadmilise. He has been known to intervene on behalf of the people, when they are on the verge of destruction. As such, he has closer contact with his descendants than the other Gods and Angels, save his wife, Razibelle. They are very rarely seen without each other.
Where Razibelle seems to be the personification of winter, Humurse is summer. He is warm and kind, and resorts to force only when it is absolutely necessary.
Buy the first book in the Anastasia Series
Princess Anastasia Piliar's life takes a sudden turn when she is unceremoniously reunited with her home world after ten years. There, she must reacquaint herself with her people, her world, and the magic that surrounds them.
But war is brewing. The magical protections around the royal city are being pushed to their limits. The monstrous beasts that murdered Anastasia's grandparents, and caused her family to flee, have returned and are wreaking havoc on the realms.
There is a tremendous power inside Anastasia, which could be the key to saving the realms.
The week of auditions for the teaser trailer of The Vine Yard arrived. It hadn’t hit me or my production partner, Josh, until that week that we were really making a web series. So, we sat down and had a production meeting that Monday.
We decided that we’d like to vlog our escapades, and eked out the details regarding footage, locations, and timing. After realizing that most of our actors would be either unwilling or unable to travel six hours to South Florida for filming, we weighed our options. We needed a place that could double as a club and a movie theater, but also wouldn’t be expensive to use. At that point, we realized we could use our Chabad House for filming. The café would be perfect to film in for the club, and one of the VPs of the student board had an excellent speaker we could use. And if we tweaked the script a little, we could use the parking lot for the movie theater.
After that, we worked on setting up our social media. It took fifteen minutes to pick a handle, seeing as all variations of The Vine Yard had already been used (looking at YOU Vineyard Vines). Thankfully, we settled on one, and proceeded to make a Twitter, Facebook page, and YouTube account. We started following a ton of ex-Viners, and set up our accounts for posting.
Around that time, our friend came to pick up the coffee he left at our apartment after a party we’d hosted. Upon seeing him, we both remembered he wrote music as a hobby. Excitement shot through me when he said he’d be thrilled to help us with music for the show. Not only would we not have to pay for music, but we could also promote his work to all of our followers—once we had some. It felt like everything was finally coming together.
All that was left was to audition our actors, film, and make our budget for our kickstarter!
My first ever guest blog spot has to go to none other than Josh Klafter. He's an incredible writer and an even better friend. I'm eagerly awaiting the completion and release of his debut novel, but we can all get a taste of the universe his novel takes place in with this short story.
Klafter is a fiction author and gonzo journalist living in New York City. When he isn't writing, Josh can be found working at his synagogue, embarrassing himself at a convention, or in his apartment researching and analyzing the writing of George R. R. Martin.
Check out Klafter's short story below. I guarantee it'll suck you in and you'll be wishing for more!
Mission Log #257
Team: The Protectors of the People
Team ID: 6264545
Team Leader: Sensori
Mission Log # 257
RECORDING STARTED:
Every team has that one mission, the unforeseen
disaster waiting to happen. It’s inevitable in our line of work. If you don’t
believe that, you must be new here. For all you hotshot rookies who think
you’re the best thing since sliced bread, here’s what’s in store for you. You
get cocky, you go in arrogant and come out crippled. Crippled by a clear
defeat, or the loss of innocent bystanders, is one thing. Crippled by the loss
of a team member is entirely another.
To the council, I apologize for the delay in this
recording. With the funeral this past Sunday… no… I’ll be honest. I’ve
been delaying the inevitable of this recording out of fear. This log will be
the hardest I’ve had to record yet, but, without a doubt, the most important. I
hope this will serve as a lesson in caution to all the other career heroes in
New York... no... the world. I hope you’ll bear with me through this log, and
be patient if I find myself tearing up. The message is too important.
Ok, here goes nothing.
I had gotten a lead
from my buddy Paulie Ramirez down at the Nassau County Police Department. He
believed that a group of registered villains had moved into a small house in
Franklin Square, a family-centric residential area under his jurisdiction.
While he had their location, what he didn’t have was a bite, a warrant to get
him through the front door. Of course, that’s when you turn to registered
heroes.
I saw this as nothing but a
small-time gig, checking out the house, seeing if there’s anything suspect
about the fucks living there, and taking them down to the station if anything
goes awry. So rather than take my whole team, I grabbed Connie… oh, excuse me,
registered hero alias: Force of Nature… and Brickbreaker. We even grabbed a
couple of beers at Pig n Whistle down on 36th before hopping on the LIRR (we
didn’t want to use up any of Force of Nature’s stamina in the off chance we
would need it later).
After about an hour on the train we found
ourselves at the front door of a small home, as nondescript as any of the
others. The neighborhood was silent, as you would expect from a family town at
11:30 on a Saturday night. However, the first thing I noticed walking up to
this house was that the front room’s light, though dim, was clearly on. When
you’re surrounded by completely darkened houses on all sides, you notice this.
The two cars in the driveway didn’t do them any favors in concealing that they
were home. Strike one.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK “Global Heroes Alliance open
up,” (standard procedure).
No answer. Repeat, no answer. This would have
deterred me if I didn’t know better. I gave the third obligatory knock and
announce, but no one inside budged. Wiggling at the doorknob, it gave me no
resistance, and the front door slid open. Strike two. I should have known right
then and there to turn back, but I was naive, buzzed, and, to be honest,
looking for some action.
As the three of us tiptoed our way into the front
den, we immediately noticed the room was empty. I used my difference to track
all of the five occupants of the house down to the bedroom at the end of the
hall. Motioning for my teammates to follow, I took the lead as we snuck our way
down the narrow, darkened hall. The only thing illuminating the way was a dull,
yellow light leaking out from the farthest door. Seconds later we found
ourselves in front of it.
“I know what this looks like, probably just a
family getting ready for bed, but be ready regardless, we never know,” I
whispered to my teammates.
Looking back, that was the first wise thing I had
said all night.
Three, two, one, and we burst into the bedroom.
In front of us was only a bed. At its center, in a
mess of blankets and pillows, lay a little boy. The face of this boy will never
leave me for as long as I live. His long, blonde hair drooped down over his
peachy, smiling face. Remember how he looked, I beg you. Surrounding him were
four adults, all of whom dawned the black, striped brand of a
formerly-incarcerated villain on their necks. All of whom except one, Paulie Ramirez.
Strike three.
“Wait,” I remember audibly taking a second to
process what was in front of me.
As soon as I understood, I acted.
“FORCE, GET OUT OF HERE, NOW,” I screamed, pulling
out my staff.
She understood immediately, and hurtled herself
through the window ahead, forcefield on, of course. This sent shattered glass
raining down on all of us, but that wasn’t much of a deterrence; the fight had
already begun. I hated myself for even thinking I wouldn’t need my staff, but
thank God I brought it. Brickbreaker’s fists were locked and loaded, so I was
still confident we could take them at this point.
His voice, I remember it vividly.
“Please, stop fighting…”
It was meek, timid
even, but its power was unquestionable. All four of them, including Ramirez,
stopped what they were doing and moved back into their positions at the side of
this kid.
It was at this point that I realized we were
dealing with a mission way over our ranking. I’m going to try my best to recall
our conversation, for the sake of finding this bastard, but... I’m not in the
best frame of mind and may be forgetting the exact wording.
Kid: Ah the Protectors of the People, here at
last.
Me: What do you want, who are you?
Kid: I guess you could call me a fan. I admire
your team’s work.
Me: Are you hurt, are you in danger? (ugh… so
naive)
Kid: Especially you Sensori. Your passion, your
energy, I could really use that.
What happened next really is unexplainable, but
I’ll try my god damn best. It felt like the weight of the world crushing down
on me. I could hear Brickbreaker shouting my name, feel him trying to shake me,
but it was so... minimal. My senses were muffled, the pressure was killing me.
My vision was blurred, but I could see the kid glowing, illuminated in an
orange, yellow tinge. Only then I realized that this glow was flowing from me
to him.
Then it happened.
Brickbreaker threw himself in front of the glow, pushing me away from its
grasp. I immediately felt the relief, my lungs clenching, gasping for missed
air. I turned just in time to see him floating feet off the ground, spasming,
shaking, and screaming. Sparks were bursting from his body; I’d never seen
anything like it. Suddenly, the boy shrieked, the aura stopped, and
Brickbreaker crashed down onto the carpeted floor, steam oozing from his body.
Before I could even
attack the kid, Brickbreaker roared, shot up, and grabbed me in his arms, hurtling
us down the hallway and out the front door in a manner of seconds. Down the
block I saw the familiar purple energy of Force of Nature’s difference; she was
ready to teleport us at a moment’s notice.
The face she made when
she saw us racing toward her… God. She burst into fuckin tears, I couldn’t bear
it. I looked up and saw, for the first time, what really had happened to
Brickbreaker when he saved me. His skin… or lack of… was ripped raw, blood
gushing at a rate I had never seen in my entire time as a career hero. He
roared through the agony he must have been experiencing… I’m sorry… I’m sorry.
Give me a minute here.
RECORDING PAUSED (66 seconds)
RECORDING RESUMED
He didn’t make it back to the city, whatever life
he still had left him in the portal.
If any of you were at the funeral… you would
already know that I didn’t make it out of this either… not really. Whatever
this kid did, whatever this kid took from me, he succeeded. I’m a cripple… A
FUCKIN’ CRIPLE! RECORDING PAUSED (153 seconds)
RECORDING RESUMED
I may not be able to walk, or fight... or use my
difference. But I still have my mind. I won’t stop until this kid… if he even
is a kid… is buried in the ground. I hope this log will give the council the
ammunition it needs to declare a level 10 threat. No hero is safe… no different
is safe. Together, we can stop him. Divided, he’ll take us out one by one,
until he’s the only one of us left.
