Please join me in welcoming author Marsha A. Moore as a guest blogger this week. I met Marsha through the Magic Appreciation Tour and Booksale. Her fantasy romance novels Heritage Avenged and Seeking a Scribe, books one and two of The Enchanted Bookstore Legends, are currently available on Kindle. Today she tells us a little about the system of magic that underlies both these novels, an approach that combines elements of astronomy and astrology. At the end of her post, you'll also find an excerpt from Heritage Avenged. Enjoy!
A Scribe's Mystic Astronomy Studies
I’ve long been interested in both astronomy and astrology. In my Enchanted Bookstore Legends, I combined the two fields into one that I call mystic astronomy.
The organization of magical power and leadership in my
fantasy world of Dragonspeir world are founded upon principles of mystic
astronomy. This is inspired by the balanced system of the four Chinese elements
of creation: earth, fire, water, air. Chinese mythology ties those elements to
sacred animals that foretell future events. The unicorn is supposed to spring
from the center of the earth as the phoenix represents fire, the tortoise
water, and the dragon air. For my legends, I selected those animals as the four
Guardians who collectively govern the good Alliance of Dragonspeir.
Additionally, residents of Dragonspeir who inherit magical
tendencies must learn to utilize their dominant element, air, earth, fire, or
water, in order to control and develop their abilities. This means huge
difficulties for my heroine, Lyra McCauley, who cannot learn fast enough to
stay ahead of dangers from the Dark Realm.
The Enchanted Bookstore Legends are
about Lyra, a woman destined to be one of five strong women in her family who
possess unique magical abilities and serve as Scribes in Dragonspeir. The
Scribes span a long history, dating from 1200 to present day. Each Scribe is
expected to journey through Dragonspeir, both the good and evil factions, then
draft a written account. Each book contains magic with vast implications.
Lyra was first introduced to Dragonspeir as a young girl,
when she met the high sorcerer, Cullen Drake, through a gift of one of those
enchanted books. Using its magic, he escorted her into the parallel world of
Dragonspeir. Years later, she lost that volume and forgot the world and Cullen.
These legends begin where he finds her again—she is thirty-five, standing in
his enchanted bookstore, and Dragonspeir needs her.
When Lyra reopens that enchanted book, she confronts a
series of quests where she is expected to save the good Alliance from
destruction by the evil Black Dragon. While learning about her role,
Lyra and Cullen fall in love. He is 220 years old and kept alive by Dragonspeir
magic. Cullen will die if Dragonspeir is taken over by the evil faction…Lyra
becomes the Scribe.
Although Lyra has inherited the rare powers of a Scribe,
among the highest in Dragonspeir, she cannot use her powers fully. She must
learn to drawn upon them with control through formal sorcery training. Lyra,
like all Scribes, is born under a fire sign and must be able to communicate
with the main star of the Aries constellation—her birthmate star—in order to
utilize her vast powers. That constellation gives her additional power,
enabling her to call upon scribal powers of her ancestors locked in their
birthmate star.
Members of the four Guardians who govern the Alliance are
among her teachers. Each of the magic crafts she learns is founded upon the
strength of mystic astronomy, channeling power from viewing one’s birthmate
star.
A sky reader or sibyl from the nomadic Qumeli tribe instructs
Lyra how to view her birthmate star, Hamal, the primary star of the Aries
constellation. When Lyra first finds Hamal, bright in the winter sky, she jumps
in alarm at how it boosts her power. The sibyl teaches Lyra where to locate
different fire sign constellations that are present during other seasons when
Hamal isn’t visible. These other fire stars will deliver a lesser but valuable
increase in Lyra’s power. The Sagittarius archer can help her in summer from its
position in the center of the Milky Way galaxy. In the spring sky, Lyra learns
to locate the brightest star of the Leo constellation.
While these fire sign stars help increase Lyra’s internal
scribal power, she is also taught that air signs blow or extend her powers,
like wind fans a flame. The sibyl teaches her to look for Gemini in the winter,
Libra in the spring, and Aquarius in the autumn sky to spread her power
farther.
In addition to the lesson conducted by the sibyl, The Head
Guardian, also known as the Imperial Dragon, instructs Lyra how to apply
knowledge of astronomy to work magical air instruments—the Spheres of Sidus and
the Lacuna Ales—to help her discover clues about her past and future. The
positions of birthmate stars must be well understood and replicated in order to
unlock the capabilities of those devices.
During Heritage
Avenged, Lyra is under the gun to quickly learn this vast knowledge so she
may control and use her powers. She’s anxious to use her new skills to find who
may have murdered her aunt. Additionally, she is constantly pursued by those
wishing to steal her scribal aura, which would leave her as good as dead
without a soul. Those who attempt to protect Lyra are often injured in the
process. These stresses force Lyra to race through her magic craft lessons, in
attempt to stay a step ahead of the Dark Realm. 
Excerpt from Chapter 1 of Heritage Avenged: The Letter
Lyra worried about
Cullen on his flight home. Despite the fact he was over two hundred years old,
it was only his second plane trip. The few wizards of Dragonspeir who visited
the real world seldom traveled far, and then not conventionally. He kept her
safe in his world last summer. She intended to keep him safe in hers.
“Next!” the
heavyset postmistress belted out.
“I’ve got to hang up,” Lyra quickly whispered
into her cell phone. “Be sure you call me when you land in Sault Saint Marie.
Love you.”
She sighed and
maneuvered to the clerk at the far end of the counter. If only they could live
together in one world. She needed to learn more magic first and hoped to make a
start in a few weeks, when she took her winter break from teaching to attend
his Solstice Festival. Unfortunately, her formal lessons would have to wait
until next summer.
When Lyra
approached the counter, the woman peered over the top of her reading glasses as
she shuffled papers. “Yes?”
“I’m here to pick
up my mail from a vacation hold.”
“Theme of my day,”
the postmistress muttered and then barked, “Name and ID.”
“Adalyra McCauley.
Just since the day before Thanksgiving.” She fumbled in her purse and pulled
the driver’s license from her billfold.
The women sighed,
slid off her stool, and shuffled into a back room. A few minutes later, she
lumbered back, carrying a small stack of letters, glossy ads, and magazines.
She scooted the mail across the counter.
Lyra stuffed it
all into a tote bag, then scurried to her silver Subaru sport wagon and tossed
it into the passenger seat. Driving Cullen to the Tampa International airport
and this stop barely left enough time to make it to the university in time to
teach her ten o’clock class. But the memory of those lingering goodbye kisses
made it worth the consequences.
She stopped for a
red light at a twelve-lane interchange, tapping the wheel impatiently. The
edges of the mail peeked out of the sack, tempting her. She pulled it into her
lap and riffled through the letters. The usual bills. The signal remained red.
Thumbing quickly
through familiar envelopes, one unusual return address caught her eye, William
T. Betts, M.D., Washaw, Michigan—the island village location of Aunt Jean’s
cottage on Lake Huron. Although addressed to Lyra, it had been sent to where
her aunt lived prior to passing away. She couldn’t place his name as one of
Jean’s doctors. Multiple postmarks revealed a path of forwarding, the oldest
dated last August, a few weeks after the funeral. She checked the traffic
light—still red.
She ripped open
the envelope and yanked out the letter.
Dear Ms. McCauley:
I
am writing this correspondence in my capacity of Birch County coroner. Please
accept my condolences for the recent loss of your aunt, Jean Perkins. Prior to
delivery of her remains to the Michigan State crematorium, her attending
physician, Dr. Everett Schultz, requested an autopsy. Dr. Schultz and I wish to
meet with you to discuss my findings at your earliest convenience.
Respectfully,
William
T. Betts, M.D.
A horn honked from
behind and jolted Lyra into a panic. Her limbs froze and her eyes returned for
another glimpse of the letter. She wildly scanned the page, searching for
additional information. Aunt Jean had died of cancer. What more could they tell
her than that?
At the time of
Jean’s death, the abrupt change in her symptoms puzzled Lyra and made her
question the visiting nurse. Hours before, her aunt’s mind had been lucid. Her
eyes were clear and her breathing soft and steady, not a raspy death rattle. Now
those initial concerns seemed grounded.
The driver behind
her laid on the horn.
The noise jarred
Lyra to the present. She exhaled an arrested breath. To brace her shaking arms,
her free hand clamped the steering wheel. Unable to coordinate, her foot slid
off the clutch and stalled the car.
A chorus of horns
blared.
After fumbling
with the ignition, she restarted and herded her Subaru into the stream of
traffic. She locked her eyes squarely ahead to avoid angry road-rage stares
from passing motorists.
One car pulled
alongside and tooted. Her eyes shifted onto the driver who flipped her off
before speeding away.
Shaking, she gave
up rushing to be on time. Keeping her car safely on the road was challenge
enough. She hung back to allow other cars to pass.
Plodding in the
slow lane, her thoughts drifted to the letter. What had the coroner found? In
September, the funeral home wrote, indicating they stored her aunt’s ashes, as
Lyra directed, until she returned to collect them. The director never mentioned
any question about the cause of death.
Lyra shifted
before engaging the clutch. Grinding gears vibrated the car. White-knuckling
the wheel, she gratefully turned at the sign for Southern University. Finally
in her assigned parking spot, she slumped into the seat.
Before getting
out, she reread the letter to search for clues between the phrases. She found
none, but the words “earliest convenience” loomed. The doctor wrote the letter
three months ago. Would that lost time make a difference?
Was it possible
someone harmed Jean? Hundreds in the village visited the funeral and expressed
sorrow. What about that strange man, Revelin? He came to Jean’s home,
supposedly working as an aide from the home care division of the local clinic.
He acted suspicious, trying to read Lyra’s computer screen, open to her draft
of the new version of the Book of Dragonspeir.
Maybe a person from Dragonspeir? A few supporters of the evil Black Dragon
could enter her world. But who? His alchemist, Tarom, possessed enough power
and talent. A chill ran down her spine, thinking of his glowing red eyes and
crimson cloak with moving tentacles at its hem. She sighed. No obvious evidence
linked either man.
Sun rays reflected
light through her windshield from the modern glass and concrete English
building. This alerted her to pull herself together and go inside. After
sucking in a deep breath to steady her nerves, she opened the car door and
stepped out. Her legs shook under her weight. Her shoulders sagged under the
load of the briefcase and bags. With an awkward gait, she ambled toward her
building.
She stopped cold.
Students raced around her to make their classes. What about Eburscon? Alchemist
for the Imperial Dragon’s Alliance. She clenched a fist, recalling his haughty,
antagonistic manner. He openly disapproved of Lyra’s influence on anyone in
Dragonspeir.
Opening a side
door off the parking lot, she checked her watch. Five minutes past the start of
class time. She braced herself, rearranged her bags, and climbed two flights—a
short cut to the classroom which avoided the department offices.
Three minutes
later, she arrived in the room, out-of-breath and shaking, in no shape to
teach. But, the chairman kept careful tabs on all his non-tenured professors,
including Lyra.
Thankfully, the
lesson was an easy one, reviewing short story reading assignments. The students
in her American Lit course, just returned from a long Thanksgiving weekend,
didn’t want to hear a rigorous talk about Emerson and Thoreau. Most eyed her
with groggy stares, heads propped on elbows. A handful of alert and prepared
students vied to contribute, snapping out responses to Lyra’s discussion
questions. Usually she enjoyed pitting them against each other, but today she
merely appreciated their participation.
Her mind wandered
two thousand miles away. She watched the clock, counting the minutes until she
could talk with Cullen during his layover in Detroit.
Visit Marsha at the following links:
Website: http://MarshaAMoore.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/MarshaAMoore
Fantasy Faction staff page: http://fantasy-faction.com/staff-members?uid=38
