From Raiselig to Albithurst

The End

Did I succeed in my efforts with The Raiselig Dossier? An interesting question to think about, for me. A lot of my intent was to play around in a world, to take a specific “what if” and drag it to its logical conclusion. What would a magical fantasy world be like, if magic were legislated to near extinction?

Because that’s what became obvious, as I wrote. More and more the magical beings and spells of the ancient times faded away, not because “the world has moved on,” but because the laws of magic themselves became too onerous. Try as you might, there comes a time when even the most zealous among us must rest, and as more and more beings grow weary of their burdens…

Expectations can be cruel things. Even the minor or simple ones can wear on a person, like microaggressions building up to a critical mass. I purposefully never explored Raiselig before their shift, because I didn’t want to torture the poor thing.

What it must have been like, to make that choice; to look at yourself and agree that you need to fundamentally change into something else to continue to survive in the new colonized world. To no longer be what you are, but to put on a hat, take a new name, and become what they want you to be. And then to police others…

You must have noticed common themes in my ouvre by now, yes?

So I think I can say I did succeed, at least by my own measures. Raiselig journeyed from a broken supplicant of the colonizing status quo, to a free spirit, one who burns with their own light and is open to taking their place among the others who have left this world behind. While I still feel the urge to edit/improve, I think I can be satisifed with what I’ve done.

The Poems of Madam Albithurst

So what’s next?

As I wrote earlier, Ozzie was a bit of an experiment with language, to see if I could tell a story about a person using not-quite-MLA-standard-language. It was interesting, to say the least, but from there I moved on to my next experiment: telling a story with not-quite-standard-structure.

The Poems of Madam Albithurst is not a story. Does it have beginning, middle, and end? Of a sort, but in my exploration of the written word, I have come to appreciate that the distinction between prose and poetry is a bit more of a spectrum than a binary — as most everything is.

Don’t read this like a story. It may be hard at points, uncomfortable even, but this isn’t a story. It’s a poem. A long one, to be sure, but if you engage with it on this level, and you may find it easier to understand.

The poem takes place in the Myriad Worlds setting; Inspired in part by the absurd worldbuilding of Troika! and the surreal beauty of Evan Dahm, The Myraid Worlds is a setting of complex and conveluded realities hanging in the deep purple Velvet. I hope you enjoy the tour.