Journey to the stars and worlds of imagination: Dark Days, Dark Actions #MFRWAuthor

Welcome to the monthly topic from the MFRW challenge. The topic is "How Different Seasons Affect Your Writing." Now there are different aspects to the seasons depending on where you are from which can affect your writing. In the northeast, there are distinct seasonal changes. Of course, some of them might feel only a few weeks long, but temperatures, storms, and different crops in the fields tell the story. Despite the fact that it is springtime outside, I'm just going to focus on one season -- winter. And to the reason why?

Winter can be especially stressful and full of dark emotions. There are shorter days, longer nights, parties (or lack thereof) and family gatherings. The effects of these on an author can break through their control and reflect in their writing.

My characters hate the long dark nights between the solstice and turn's end. More than one has ended up captured and in the dungeon. First a short excerpt from Imprisoned in Stone. Colywnn is imprisoned in a cell deep in the citadel of the Brethren He can accept no mercy from those who want to control all magic, even though his father is their leader.

Even though the blocking spells absorbed most of the light emitted from the single candle high on the wall, he used the wan glow to examine the room. Stone by stone, he searched for a way out, either through magic or physical force. His questing fingers found only walls worked smooth by those of countless prisoners. Each time he found a hint of magic and tried to summon his own powers, the prison absorbed them, eating away his strength. Although he spotted his own spell interwoven among those who over the years had placed the restraint on the cell, the faint hope it provided quickly vanished. As he watched in hopeless frustration, his spell faded, dispersed by those of the Brethren members.

His back against the wall, Colwynn slid to the floor. He considered one approach after another, then discarded it. Who could he call upon for help? Gareth’s powers were too weak. And the only other wizards he knew were confirmed members of the Brethren. Only one person had the possibility of reaching him—Maerva.

Gathering his magic, he pictured her in his mind. A prayer on his lips, he cast out a desperate call.

Dead silence greeted his effort.

I wasn't any more charitable for Talann of the dragshi or the archmage Dal. When Talann went undercover in the cult of the Parant in Hatchling's Mate, the cult's leader did not believe the son of a dragon shifter would betray his own kind. Even though no dragons sang a welcome at Talann's birth and to all the world he was an outcast, the Parant turned Talann over to the not-so-tender mercies of a mercenary captain.

Dal's captors weren't happy with just him as a prisoner. They wanted the magical equine he rode also. However because of his actions, Tairneach and his fellow herdmates escaped. Before his dark night in the dungeon, an excerpt from Windmaster of Dal's capture by his former troopmate.

Dal went sprawling to hands and knees from a blow to the back of his head. Dust clogged his nostrils. He tried to stand, but a second blow knocked him flat. He arched his back to dislodge the heavy weight of the men piled atop him. Muscles weakened by the poison collapsed. A heel stomped on his fingers and kicked the sword from his grasp. Rough hands grabbed both arms and twisted them back. Pain radiated from the foot on his neck, and the sharp edges of the rocks cutting into his face. The cold touch of iron chains around his wrists killed any hopes of escape.

The weight of those holding him down suddenly lifted. Dal gasped for air. A hand in his hair pulled him up to a kneeling position. Someone behind him slipped a choke collar over his head and pulled it tight. His skin crawled beneath the metal links. More chains were wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. He could not move enough to free himself.

The resonance of Bashim’s essence permeated each link.

Dal swore in wordless anger. The chains were enspelled. They bound magic ... my magic.