I love fantasy books, and I love adventure so, put those two genres together, and I get very excited! I was, therefore, delighted when I was offered the opportunity to review this book. The author sent me a copy in exchange for an honest review. The book can be purchased here. Summary Matthew is an average boy who doesn't realise his father is the Blademaster, a title given to one person capable of wielding the sword of the elements. This sword can metamorphosise, depending on what the Blademaster needs. The sword of wind can creating tornados, while the sword of water can manipulate (you guessed it!) water. When Matthew's father goes missing, and is presumed dead, Matthew is given a special book that can transport him to his father's native world. There, he finds out that he is the new Blademaster and begins a quest to seek out the evil Black Knights and hopes to find what happened to his father. Reviewing... The Plot I love stories about parallel worlds, and it's alw...
Continuing from last week's post which explored Artwork as Inspiration (the starting point for Proof of the Old Faith) I'm sticking with Norse culture. Here is The Weave of the Norns, a poem I wrote a few years ago about these three frightening women.
Enjoy!
The Norns by Arthur Rackham
Beneath the threat of utter doom
he sought them at their fabled loom.
The king searched on until he found
them on the morrow’s battleground.
The tallest worked the wheel alone;
the next, a shuttle made of bone;
the shortest bore a silver sword
with which she severed each loose cord.
What pattern spun these women three,
dictating mankind’s victory!
“I come to beg you demonstrate
a gentle weaving of our fate.”
“Then know you this, oh man of peace,
we weave the thread and cannot cease.”
“Weave us an ending to this war
and grant us threads of peace once more.”
“What cost would such a wise man pay
for us to change our weave this way?”
And now he saw the bloody thread,
time’s fabric dripping crimson red.
As though she took him in her hand
he felt her pull aside one strand.
“You have forgone your chance to leave.
Your life is foretold in the weave.”
The sword cut clear, the thread hung down,
the mediator lost his crown.
For Fate demands a sacrifice
to cast aside her weighted dice.
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