-A new short fiction series; what’s in a name?-
My father told me the story of our family name when I was still very young. I did not sit on his lap or knee while the story was told. That is often how such tales begin, but a Wraith does not sit on laps nor allow their knees to be made into seats.
“A Wraith does not kneel.”
That was one of the things my father said, but not this time.
Imagine you are a child again. It does not matter how old. You are small, curious and afraid. The world is large around you, towering above your head until it seems that everything must suddenly fall down and flatten you.
“Kera, you are a Wraith.”
Of course that would be the first thing he said. But it was no surprise, every child knows their own name. What he said next I had never heard before. It was not the sort of thing any child ought to hear. We should think back to that moment and imagine my life if those words were never spoken.
It would have been a good life. There would have been bloodshed, mourning and loss; that is true of any life. But there would certainly have been less of it. Of course, it would not have been my life.
“Wraith means death.” My father said.
“No, it means a ghost.”
Every child will take an opportunity to prove to their elders that they know better. I should not have done so. It was the first time my father struck me in anger and the only time. With hindsight, I do not blame him. At the time, I hated him.
“I speak of the old tongue.” He continued to say over my wails. “But you are clearly not ready. We will speak again when you are older.”
Another fantasy series, Turnkey, begins here.
Worldkiller starts here.
My novel can be found here on Amazon Kindle.