Tag Archives: mystical beings

A Focus on the Telepathy Power

There are a bunch of powers in the Distant Horizon universe, from Tim’s techno sight ability to mentally connect with computers to Jenna’s elemental ability to manipulate plant growth and use super speed. Previously, I’ve talked about the life-spirit power and it’s ability to save or suspend lives.

Today, let’s talk about telepathy.

There are several uses for telepathy, including the common ability to read minds and broadcast thoughts for communication, to the more obscure abilities of possession, and even more skilled (albeit nefarious) trick of planting specific memories in a target’s thoughts.

It’s the latter I want to focus on today. Tim got a taste of this in The Glitch Saga.

But Jenna… she deals a lot with the finer troubles of telepathy.  While she’s not a telepath herself, a certain notorious Lady Winters leaves a set of memory seeds in Jenna’s head—seeds which, over time, attack her mind with false memories and nightmares meant to leave her more susceptible to future telepathic attacks. The primary seed she has to deal with in Distant Horizon is of beastie transformation, which proves burdensome while she’s trying to search a beastie plant.

Here’s an excerpt from Distant Horizon:

The winding corridor opened to rows upon rows of floor-to-ceiling tanks, each filled with thick, greenish fluid. Bubbles traveled up the tubes, passing over occupants who had been stripped of everything but a breath mask. A helpless, sickening sensation spread through me. I stared at the liquid, petrified.

Lady Winters dragged me into a tube and shoved me inside, the numbing liquid surrounding me, slick against my skin. Burning.

I needed to escape, to breathe, to run—

“Let’s not open these doors, ‘kay?” Jack said, jarring me from my nightmare. I glared at him, but for once, I didn’t mind his sarcasm. Lady Winters had taken joy in giving me that memory. Her identity charm rustled against the fabric of my shirt.

“Isn’t there some way we can help them?” I asked.

“By the time they’re here, it’s too late.” Inese motioned to the tanks around us.

I closed my hands into fists. Lance pushed me forward, and as we passed the tanks, one of the occupants woke. Bubbles erupted around her mask. Her eyes bulged, terrified. She pounded her fists on the glass.

Lance stepped back, despite all his show for strength, but I saw my reflection. It placed me in that tube—in that thick, unknown liquid with its sense of helplessness…

I flinched and turned away. I was betraying the people who were imprisoned here, but every time I looked at them, I was the prisoner.

A memory seed tends to use some sort of outside world trigger (in this case, the beastie tanks), to activate a pre-planted memory. In some cases, the victim will be aware they’re the target of an attack, and in some cases they’ll simply react without knowing why. In other cases, the victim is trapped in the memory, only aware of of what the memory is showing them.

The more skilled the telepath, the harder it is to remove these seeds. Unfortunately for Jenna, Lady Winters is one of the most skilled telepaths within the Camaraderie. And, unfortunately, the memory seeds makes it a tad difficult for her to do research that the rebels need in order to combat the Camaraderie.

Here’s a look at one such scene in Fractured Skies.

I huddled under a mass of vines, Tim’s tablet in my lap. All the lights were on, and I’d made sure the flower charm was nestled firmly against my skin. There was a good chance the charm was the only thing that was going to keep me from having a memory attack. I pressed the icon on the tablet for the Legion Spore folder. A list of files popped up. Some of the documents contained lines of code—gibberish I had no hope of understanding. But some of the documents looked promising, more like a research paper.
 
Biology—a science I understood.
 
My heart pulsed in my wrists, warning me this was a bad idea. But if I wanted control of my memories, I had to understand what the Legion Spore was and what it could do.
 
I opened the first document:
 
The Legion Spore is an experimental project requiring beasts and power users to be merged with a computer AI to form a single entity of enormous capability and power. To do this, the Legion Spore utilizes a hub system. This system consists of both beasts and power users, each assigned to use their powers for specific tasks while being linked to a single mainframe.
 
That must have been why I heard multiple voices when the Legion Spore spoke, why it sounded like a discordant chorus. If everyone was trying to think at once, with so many voices crying in pain…
 
The tablet shook in my fingers.
 
I could do this. I could read a simple research paper without freaking out because of some stupid thoughts in my head.
 
For mobility, the Legion Spore flies by utilizing a combination of air and fire elementals who provide the upper membrane with hot gas. In order to conserve space, the air sacs may be deflated while inside a hangar. The hull of the ship, including the membrane, is formed from the bodies of shapeshifters.
 
I stared at the words. I’d seen all of this before. Not personally, but I’d seen what Lady Winters showed me in the memory attacks. The shapeshifters had been tied to the outer steel frame, a grid of interlinked metal that created the skeleton of the hull. The other beasties and humans were forced to kneel inside a tower of cages. Though the structure was metal, it was mostly empty space and not much bigger than a cargo-hold. Wires ran around their skulls and across their bodies, and into glass tubes between them…
 
Cold sweat poured down my back.
 
Dear Community, how could anyone have supported this project?
 
The vessel is mostly organic, and entirely self-sustaining. Like the Portuguese Man O’ War that it was designed to resemble, the Legion Spore ensnares its prey with long tentacles, targeting organic matter and devouring it through the use of various acidic agents. This may prove doubly useful in battle, as the Legion Spore can feed itself while targeting enemy combatants.
 
The Legion Spore ate people?
 
The room wavered in the corners of my vision. My stomach revolted. I closed my eyes and took quick, shallow breaths. I needed a drink of water—
 
I needed to get through this document first. This was a short one. The more I understood, the better off I’d be against the Legion Spore next time.
 
Even if the ship did eat its enemies.
 
Once its prey is devoured, the nutrients go to the Legion Spore’s nutrient tanks. These tanks feed into the hull of the ship, which mimics the flesh and muscle of various warm-blooded creatures—
 
The fleshy hull stretched out before me, veins pulsing underneath its skin. A sour odor drifted to my nose, but when I tried to wipe it away, a thin tentacle caught my hand.
 
Thud-thump.
 
A heart was beating.
 
Thud-thump. Thud-thump. Thud-thump.
 
My heart pounded, each thump growing louder as other beating hearts joined in.
 
A column of thinly covered muscle rose above me as the tentacle dragged me toward a seething, bleeding organ. I couldn’t let it take me! I yanked my hand from the tentacle and fled to a small door at the end of the vessel. A sticky hand grabbed my ankle. I careened to the ground. Airy whispers filled my head, vying for attention. My eyes were dry from the heat of the ship. I was on the top level, next to the air sac. Hot air swirled above me. Their murmurs tickled my ear.
 
We are legion…
 
No—I couldn’t let it catch me—couldn’t let it trick me into revealing the location of the Coalition. I pounded on its walls. I had to get out—

Needless to say, Jenna is ready to put a stop to the memory seeds’ attacks, and much of Fractured Skies revolves around her searching for a solution to the problem of those seeds.

Eventually we get to Starless Night, where, without giving too many spoiler, Jenna discovers that the memory seed is a lot more involved than she first thought, and considerably more dangerous. Because, what might happen if a telepath leaves more of themselves in a seed than anyone realizes?

* * *

Join Jenna’s fight with memory seeds in the Distant Horizon series!

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Happy reading and writing!

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A Focus on the Life-Spirit Power

There are a bunch of powers in the Distant Horizon Universe, and at some point I’ll go into detail about all 40-something powers that Isaac and I listed for use in the original role-playing campaign that we played, with each power divided between one of four categories: Mental, Physical, Reality Shift, and Elemental.

Today I want to focus on the “elemental” category, and in specific, the “life-spirit” power.

The life part is easy. A life-spirit elemental typically has healing abilities and can sense the presence of living beings around them.

Here’s an example from Distant Horizon, with a character who uses a combination of healing and telepathy to do her work (slightly edited to avoid spoilers):


I rested my elbow on my knee as Gwen moved to treating Lance. It’ll be okay, I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how much this elderly woman could help us.

Over the next half hour, the bruises cleared from Lance’s face and the deep scratches turned to faint scars. Finally, Gwen leaned against the wall and rubbed her eyes.

Lance rotated his shoulder as if he’d never been wounded. “What’d’ya do?”

“My power is in healing: the ability to save or suspend lives.” She rubbed her forehead gingerly, then looked at me. “It’s your turn. I won’t go deep in your thoughts; I just use telepathy to find the damage.”

I swallowed hard, then felt something else—be there. She was present, searching across my mind, but she wasn’t intrusive. Each memory was tucked away, as if it’d come unbidden, and her presence was friendly. When she did find pain, the memory flashed to the surface and vanished as quickly.

I tried to focus on memories I didn’t mind her seeing, drowsy as she soothed the grazed shoulder and eased the bruises.

However, when it comes to the “spirit” side, that’s when the details get trickier. Life-spirit elementals can “suspend” lives, partially removing a person’s spirit and causing them to go unconscious, or even remove a person’s spirit completely, killing them in the process.

An example from Whispers in the Code:

“Have the Legion Spore remove her spirit,” Commander Rick says, “then dispose of the corpse.”

My throat constricts. I know that it isn’t practical to keep the scout around, but there’s still something unsettling about the idea of having just been in the mind of someone about to die. “Dispose?”

“The Legion Spore needs nutrients and, this way, there will be no evidence for the Oriental Alliance to find,” Commander Rick explains.

What he leaves unspoken sends shivers down my neck. “You want it” —I swallow hard— “to eat her?”

Commander Rick glances at me, and his cocked eyebrows indicates that he understands I’m not ready to give that command. I know he’s right. The process is efficient, but the idea doesn’t settle in my stomach.

Legion Spore, remove her spirit, he sends.

Her head lolls. I detect one less presence of life through the vessel’s scanners.

Legion Spore—consume the remaining body for sustaining nutrients.

Dozens of tiny, translucent tendrils extend from the ivory floor, wrapping around her body. They flatten against her arms and chest and her skin dissolves, revealing the muscle and bone beneath. The body melts away. I force myself to watch, despite the terror creeping through every pore of my skin.

Within a minute, she’s gone.


On the farthest extreme, a life-spirit elemental can bind their spirit (or someone else’s) to an artifact, separate from a body, and thus allow a person to live on as a spirit, rather than die. It’s a tricky process, and not easily achieved.

But a few notorious figures have succeeded. Benjamin (the enthusiastic alchemist we see in the Glitch saga, and who has a cameo in Distant Horizon) is one such spirit.

Another scene from Whispers in the Code (again, slightly edited to avoid spoilers):


Benjamin’s sharp features glow a faint blue. His crisp sleeves are rolled past his elbows, and he wears a work apron over his shirt. His pockets are filled with small tools that may or may not be apparition. He’s odd like that. Sometimes he only manifests the appearance of a craftsman, while at other times, the tools are actually present.

Most noticeable, however, are his wire frame spectacles, green eyes, and his spiky, dark red hair, their colors prominent even with the lack of color across the rest of his translucent body. He’s also got a slightly mad gleam in his eye, though my encounters with the man suggest he’s mostly sane.

Benjamin grins and soundlessly claps his hands. Wonderful! Shall I take amber or emerald? His thoughts echo in my head with the determined curiosity that his voice might have held in life.


The upside of being a spirit is having additional powers. Once a person becomes a spirit, they automatically gain access to telepathy, life-spirit powers (because that’s how they sustain themselves), telekinesis, and to some extent, enhanced insight. However, it still takes them time for them to learn how to use their new powers to interact with the world, and even to manifest, unless they’ve had practice with such powers in their former life.

There are a few downsides to being a spirit, though.

First, they’re attached to an artifact. If their artifact gets destroyed, they die. Also, radiation, life-spirit powers, and electricity become much more damaging. “Shielding,” which temporarily shuts down powers, is especially devastating, since a spirit can’t manifest without access to their powers.

Still, it’s a trade-off some characters are willing to take, and one we see to an extent in Fractured Skies, and definitely becomes more of an issue in the Starless Night.

What do you think? Would you want to be a life-spirit elemental in that universe?

(Bonus: Life-spirit elementals also tend to have a natural bonus against telepaths and those with enhanced charisma!)

* * *

Life-spirit powers play a huge role in the Distant Horizon and Glitch series.

And if you don’t mind diving right into the action, Whispers in the Code is free at most online ebook retailers!

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Happy reading and writing!

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Magical Guardians

In both the Glitch saga and Distant Horizon series, we see the mention of “time stones,” strange artifacts protected by a mythological guardian. While they’re only researched in Glitch, (and used as bait to lure the rebels into a trap), Jenna and the Coalition of Freedom, a ragtag team of rebels, are a bit more adventurous with these things in Distant Horizon. They have a hands-on experience with a time stone in the first book, and continue to deal with these stones in Fractured Skies.

Here’s a peek at their introduction to one of the guardians in Fractured Skies:

(SPOILER WARNING! – There are two characters present here who aren’t introduced until the beginning of Fractured Skies, so if you don’t want to know who is involved in this scene from later in the book, you may want to skip the quote block).

I grabbed the radio from my pocket. “Inese? Where are—”

A portal appeared in front of us with Inese, Dad, and Lance tumbling through. The portal closed and Inese—with the stone—skidded to a halt, staring at the statues. “Here, too?” Her eyes widened. She clutched the stone to the black body armor of her chest with one hand, her pistol in the other.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Lance,” Inese snapped, “portal to the car, now!”

“Sure thing.” Lance wiped perspiration from his forehead as another portal swirled in front
of us. “Let’s go before that mummy comes back.”

“Mummy?” Lily yipped. “The mummies are alive, too?”

“They’re not exactly living,” Lance muttered.

“They’re spirits,” Dad clarified, breathing hard. Dark purple rings colored the underside of his eyes. Inese disappeared through the portal. The rest of us followed them to the museum roof. Dust swirled around us, revealing the location of the car in faint, shifting sand. I yanked the edge of my turtleneck shirt over my nose. Inese slammed the driver’s door shut behind her and the car went visible. I hopped in. Lily dived in behind me and yanked the door shut. Outside, trees bent against the wind, leaves whipping across the roof as the sky turned a deep, rouge red. Dark yellow dust clouds rolled in the sky, crackling with electricity.

“Inese…” Dad pointed into the distance. “That’s not a statue.”

Bright, white light traced the outline of a giant lion with the face of a man. It stepped through the cityscape, purple lightning wrapping around it and flaring in bright streaks. Lily’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lance shook his head. “After the mummies, nope. Not kidding.”

A deep, resounding voice pounded through my head, overriding my thoughts.

Return the stone.

I froze, my hands clenched on the edge of the seat. The voice of the guardian echoed in my head. A thick blanket of dark sand blasted the windows, obscuring the sphinx.

As seen here, one of the guardians has the appearance of a sphinx. Each one references a different mythology, and each one has a different set of powers:

  • Guatemala – Jaguar shapeshifter with power stealing
  • Japan – Asian dragon with water powers
  • Egypt – Sphinx with radiation and electricity powers
  • Peru – A puma earth elemental with radiation powers
  • India – A representation of Durga with healing powers, riding a lion mount

They all tend to be protective of their stones. They’re also extremely powerful spirits… making them difficult to steal from.

Not impossible, but not without cost.

And then trying to keep those stones is another story entirely…

* * *

See the interaction of the team with some of these guardians in the Distant Horizon series!

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Happy reading and writing!

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