#its supposed to melt the ice out of hearts and transform people from stone.

[quietwingsinthesky]

i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.

#it wouldn’t have to change any of the actual plot of the season. except MAYBE amy’s choice but even then i think amy’s choice would be the #one episode where they should be adults. if only for the half where they live in a village in that dream. #because that’s the kind of future that children would dream up. they live in a little cottage and nothing ever goes wrong and their best #friend visits them all the time even though they’ve grown up. #they aren’t actually adults there just children with an idea of what they should be as adults and acting accordingly #and it would still end the same way. #but idk its just. rory’s 2000 years waiting for amy inside the pandorica is already tragic. yes. #now imagine its a kid. a kid in a little roman soldier helmet who will never grow up. who will not leave his best friend. #he loves her and she’s more important than the whole universe and that sort of love is supposed to MEAN something in a fairy tale! #its supposed to melt the ice out of hearts and transform people from stone. #and what that love means here. is that he will have to wait 2000 years. a child and a box. #little rory and the amelia who followed the doctor’s letters to the pandorica. and she doesn’t recognize him again. #and amelia in the pandorica… 2000 years a child trapped in a small box waiting to be rescued. #s5 is already fucked for them but it could be worse. it could be so much worse. #and it would make the doctor choosing to take her place in the pandorica to save the universe later even better. #because who else but the doctor would put the fate of the universe on the shoulders of two children and realize much too late what a #monstrous thing he’d done. and still have to hope. have to hope. that amelia would remember him fondly enough to bring him back to reality. #the logistics of all of this would have been a pain lmao. child labor laws in acting and all that. #BUT. hypothetically. it would have slapped. #doctor who #amy pond #rory williams #<- also this entire time ive been referring to him in my head as rory pond so much that i fuckin. forgot his actual last name. #and then like if you want them to be adults in s6 or whatever you can just timeskip to them getting married and still have amelia remember #the doctor there. it would work. it would. #amelia pond au

[anikkis-fantasirealities]

“Misty Meets, the Valued Rocks and Seas”

② Travelogue ┊ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʳᵃᵍᵉᵈʸ ᵃˢ ᵗᶦᵐᵉ ᵗʳᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ··· ᵗʳᶦᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᶜᵗᶠᵘˡ ᵗʳᵉᵃˢᵘʳᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗᶦᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵉˢᵗᶦᵐᵒⁿᶦᵉˢ·

꒰⁺˚₊·₍₍loading...₎₎ ✎...۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ -ˏˋ 🗺 ˊˎ- ༘✶ ㊉ ㈦〘 ⅯⅯ 〙⋆｡˚𓆟 ༉ ║ Posted : ０６/１５/２１° ｡༄ ‧₊˚ ๑ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ •ଓ.° ｡❍ ㈩ ㊇

- - ——— ꒰ An article by Nicole “Nikki” Elaine S. Chua ꒱

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ࿐ྂ—͙❬₊° ᶦ ᵃᵐ ᵃ ᵇˡᵒᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ·“= ‹⸙͎

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ❐ · ⸰ㅤ ㅤ ⋇ · ◦ ㅤ ㅤ ⁕⸰ ㅤ ㅤ ☁

⊹ ㅤ ㅤ ⋇ ㅤ ㅤ ·⁕ ㅤ ㅤ ◦ ❏ ⋇

ㅤ ㅤ ◦ ⸰ ㅤ ㅤ ◍ ㅤ ㅤ ⊹ ⁺

· ㅤ · ⊹ㅤ ㅤ ⋇ · ◦ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ · ❏

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ · ⁕ ㅤ ㅤ ⋇ ⸰ㅤ ㅤ ❐ ⊹

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ❐ ⊹ ·

ㅤ ㅤ ❐ ⊹

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ · ⊹ ⋇ · ◦

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ · ❏

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ· ㅤ ㅤㅤ⁕ ⸰ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ⊹ · ⁕

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ❐ ⊹

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ.ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ .

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ. ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ.

“Wait, it’s about to rain?” I can vaguely remember saying something similar to those impulsive thoughts, as I look up into the gray skies and those monotoned clouds steadily sailing in mid-air. I felt the raindrops on my face—the mix of awe and worry from my father, mother, and sister who were about to trek on those rocky grounded fields of the wild Yehliu. The other visitors, whose language I could not understand, fiddled through their belongings. They opened umbrellas and covered themselves in pastel-like colored jackets, transparent in design, as I observed their casual clothing for a supposed sunny adventure. This was about to be one of the greatest family travels out of the thousand places I’ve visited—one that was like no other.

Welcome to 𝙔𝙚𝙝𝙡𝙞𝙪 𝙂𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙏𝙖𝙞𝙥𝙚𝙞, 𝙏𝙖𝙞𝙬𝙖𝙣! For this article, I’d like to tour you around one of the most memorable and breathtaking travel destinations that my family and I visited during our second vacation in Taiwan. To be honest, the Chuas loves to stroll around new locations together—whether we linger the Pearl of the East, or the rest in the Heart of Asia. Whenever there is time to escape from the world of academics, we break out from that comfortable 3D box to walk to the outskirts of recreations, entertainment, and sights to behold. Dad, who was always our captain on the steering wheel of our adventures, would schedule the perfect itineraries during our summers. Mom tends to take pictures and post mementos of our times together on Facebook—as my sister and I enjoy the blissful moments noted in our own book of life.

This geopark, however, gave a different kind of atmosphere to our typical visits. The humidity has been thickening and the cold crisp air swept through the open area. A geopark is molded by nature’s wonders. There are no futuristic buildings, leaning towers, nor brilliant inventions of men standing uproot, rather, jaggy rocks and murky land persists in this long-cape landscape. It has 1,700 meters of earth carved from top to bottom—shaded by bland hues of brown and green. However, such a scenery cannot be underestimated just because there is nothing but bumpy stones, flimsy pathways, and barren holes on the crust. This is the sole reason why it is visited, for Yehliu Geopark is not only a tourist attraction, but also a habitat for rich ecological resources and thriving fishing communities. The entirety of Yehliu’s cape runs through a sea—yes, you read it right, a 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙚 of soothing waves that compliment the greenery of the mountains above.

╭⋟──────────────────────────────────────╮

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ❝dissolve into seafoam. ❞

╰──────────────────────────────────────⋞╯

Do you know the story of how Yehliu Geopark became to be in its present form? Each rock and stone structure in this site has its own character, as if they are interacting with one another. The locals here in Yehliu witnessed how nature refined itself with its own miracles. Hence, they are also the ones who shared the geopark’s origins to tourists like us. The landscape was crafted by marine erosion, because it so happened that the seashore’s layer is made out of limestone. Because of the scientific method of weathering and movement by the Earth, the limestone crumbled over time—dissolving slowly by the seawater bashing itself into land. It resulted into those eerie, yet interesting sea-water eroded holes on the ground. What’s even more amazing is the fact that because of the flurry winds, blinding sunrays, salty water, harsh rains, and dreadful northeastern monsoon paths, the rocks gained identity and almost became celebrities due to their unique figures.

It is truly a work of God, that these elements who continuously burdened stones to rapidly change and adapt to the impact they cause, made them into what they are today. It is like humans, who also tolerate, endure, and persevere from pain to transform into better people—tested by time, yet surviving with resolve. The day my family and I visited the geopark, the rain drizzled from the heavens. There was the thought that I could slip over wet ground and plunge into the sea if I was not careful, but looking around, I figured that this peaceful nature will not allow anyone to be taken by its mystical works. It embraces you, like there’s nothing to be scared about. Instead, it greets you hello with open arms—wanting us to continue our plans despite the misty dewdrops.

╭⋟──────────────────────────────────────╮

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ❝ bridge to terabithia. ❞

╰──────────────────────────────────────⋞╯

The chilly atmosphere was actually quite relaxing, especially when nature desires its visitors to breathe for a while after an industrious environment in the urban society. My family and I walked with our umbrellas on our heads with smiles on our faces—the waves from the sea yearning to approach us, only being stopped by the sturdy ground that we walked on. If ever you visit Yehliu Geopark, you must get ready to meet some of the rocks in this travel destination! There are candles, mushrooms, a cute princess, that arch-shaped gorilla, some kind of marine bird, ice cream, tofu, and the main attraction: the Queen’s head. Just like the other tourists, we did not hesistate to take home souveniers of our adventures from the unwinding views we’ve seen. Even though more than 1,000 meters is a big horizon to explore, we walked around—hoping to spot more rock formations.

╭⋟──────────────────────────────────────╮

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ❝ uniting the cynosure’s roads. ❞

╰──────────────────────────────────────⋞╯

Imagination is what created those rock formations’ attributes and parts in this still story of Yehliu. If you have tons of imagination of both the possible and impossible, then your sightseeing will be plenty of fun to commit to! The 𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙨 are like little children sitting on the seashore, except they were not just two but 180 of them all together in one area. After stepping with caution across the slippery rocks, you will notice a familiar figure that looks like a woman with a large headdress. She wears it with all honor and responsibility as the star of Yehliu. Oh! You guessed it, we found the 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣'𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙! We captured a shot with her hazel beauty which you can see in my cover edit. Mission accomplished, now let’s look for the other rock characters, shall we?

╭⋟──────────────────────────────────────╮

ㅤㅤ ❝ ephemeral angst, nefarious epiphany. ❞

╰──────────────────────────────────────⋞╯

After walking for a while over bridges and stairways that connect the geopark together, we discovered the 𝘾𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙨. They were soaked in sea-water, so its usual beige color like all the rocks we’ve seen so far has dimmed to pitch black. Though, you will be surprised that they are shaped like short candles—with their wicks sticking out in the middle, as if it has already melted deeper into its center. According to the brochure we held before entering the tourist spot, these rocks were originally ball-like concentrations with softer surfaces, before they were completely scoured off. So, that must be the magic of Yehliu, huh?

Then, we noticed an unique rock formation that was not documented on boards or printed material by the management. It was like an animal, laying down on a rock—resting with pride and confidence. I wanted to call this the 𝙇𝙮𝙣𝙭 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠, because it looks like a feline who is about to hunt, perhaps the marine bird from meters away. It’s not the official name of the rock formation, though, I felt closer to it when I made the connection. I felt chills all over my body when I heard the tiny pitter-patters hit my navy blue umbrella. It was definitely a fateful encounter—the calm rain, the rushing of the sea ridges, and a new found friend. When you come over to Yehliu, do say hello to Lynx for me! I terribly miss her, after all these years that I haven’t picked up my suitcase for another trip.

╭⋟──────────────────────────────────────╮

ㅤㅤ ❝ the serendipity of tranquil encounters. ❞

╰──────────────────────────────────────⋞╯

There is apparently an anecdote documented in Yehliu’s history about a certain fisherman, namely “𝙇𝙞𝙣 𝙏𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙯𝙝𝙚𝙣.” In 1964, a group of students were visiting the scenic charm of the rocks and sea, when one of them unintentionally fell into the sea. Without thinking twice, Lin Tianzhen showed his courage and jumped into the raging sea to save the helpless pupil. Sadly, none of them were able to come back to shore alive—devoured by the depths of the salt water, unaware of its crime. When the news came to the attention of President Chiang Kai-Shek, the first president of Taiwan, he quickly ordered for a monument of Lin Tianzhen to be built in Yehliu. That’s why if you would see a marble sculpture of a man in baggy pants, that is the heroic fisherman in the stories of the locals here.

Throughout the rest of the adventure we’ve challenged to carry on despite the moist surroundings, we faced the 𝘾𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 and her adorable figure, like she was posing her bent head to the camera. We found the arched-shape 𝙂𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙖 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠, who stood still, yet to our surprise, it was a literal arch! You can see the Gorilla in one angle if you do it correctly, though, you could also look at it in another angle to realize that it has a hole through its structure. We raised our peace signs in eagerness of the enticing discovery while the camera flashed. The 𝙄𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠 and 𝙏𝙤𝙛𝙪 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙨 made us hungry, because they looked like actual food enlarged and hardened in their positions—though, of course, they never expired! I could imagine that famous Taiwanese ice cream brand scoop on that jar-like rock, and the dream of tofu soup, for the Tofu rocks laid in two rows within the middle of the sea.

╭⋟──────────────────────────────────────╮

ㅤㅤ ❝ a pluviophile soaked in hyperborean aqua. ❞

╰──────────────────────────────────────⋞╯

Since we were hungry, we looked for a place to fill our tummies to satisfaction. Thankfully, Yehliu Geopark still has facilities to accommodate tourists’ basic needs. A visitor’s center is established for dining, renting of wheel chairs & baby strollers, and inquiries of guests to the staff of the geopark. You can also ask for assistance from the friendly tour guides of the travel destination—if you are able to speak in Chinese, that is! Don’t worry—they are able to understand and speak basic English. Just make sure to pack your skills in speaking the foreign language if you’d like to talk more with the locals here, then! They also have a nursing station & lost and found section in the center in case of emergency or urgency, which is useful for scenarios such as the unexpected rain when we visited.

Because Yehliu Geopark takes care of the reefs and water ecosystems nurtured in their location, they also have a oceanpark in the geopark! It is called “𝙔𝙚𝙝𝙡𝙞𝙪 𝙊𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙,” though we were not able to spend time taking a peak into the realm of sea creatures and corals freely living in the pictures of exhibits. There are diving performers in the oceanpark, too, that make visitors astounded by their splendid act. Oh, and how can we not forget the souvenier shop for merchandise from Yenliu Geopark? It’s always great to show your loved ones how much you enjoyed Yenliu, its stories, and the sights you’ve seen! It also supports the geopark’s operation, so that it can continue its goal and mission to keep sharing the wonders of this valued scenic area by the Heart of Asia.

╭⋟──────────────────────────────────────╮

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ iridescently frozen in an ethereal epoch. ❞

╰──────────────────────────────────────⋞╯

There are also many earthy figures here that were molded by weathering. They are known as “𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙨,” that possess an artistic style like that of a solidified sponge. Through these rock structures, Chinese culture is shown—an example being the “𝟮𝟰 -𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙡-𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡” that presents the importance of superiority and inferiority relationships to Chinese people. The hill of rocks have 24 men-like figures standing nearby each other, revealing a picture of hierarchy based on the positions of each men.

Additionally, the geopark has fossils scattered across its long cape. We only found this urchin fossil in the picture above, plaqued like a prized possession with the proud mark of Taiwanese tourism. The words, “Tai Power,” reminded me of the rest of the adventures that my family and I had in the warmth of this country. Even though the distress comes, it fades away with the power of bonds to go against the negativity to be refined everyday—that’s Tai Power, the ability to touch hearts wherever you are right now!

╭⋟──────────────────────────────────────╮

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ❝ petrichor at selcouth midday. ❞

╰──────────────────────────────────────⋞╯

Before I forget, if you’re looking for extreme activities, you can try tracking down the caves of Yenliu that were also crafted by nature’s power. They are placed in spots that are hard to reach by visitors—including me and my family who did want to risk getting harmed. Do try it out, however, if you’re looking for the thrill! There are other rock formations to uncover in Yenliu Geopark aside from the ones we were able to locate. You can trace down the footprints of a fairy in the 𝙂𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙨 and notice the 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙮'𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙚 was left behind before it has taken flight again. The locals here believe in a legend that this fairy sent by the Jade Emperor, from Taoist beliefs, cursed a turtle elf who troubled the seas and caused many shipwrecks back in the day. So, if you see white smoke coming from the mountains, locals will exclaim that the turtle elf is taking its last breath. It’s a motivating tale to conclude this article, and our visit to the geopark.

Most importantly, I’d like to remind everyone who plans to visit Yehliu Geopark to obey and respect the guidelines given by the management of the landscape, as well as the North coast and Guanyinshan National Scenic Area Administration! If you observe red warning lines on the ground, do not pass that zone—always stay on the path, because it is for our own safety. Let’s 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 these astonishing wonders offered to us by the beloved nature we owe daily. We need nature, but nature does not need us. We should not touch nor damage these creations of Mother Earth. Climbing & tagging on the rock formations, smoking, biking, wading, swimming, fishing, littering, or disturbing the plants in the location is strictly prohibited! Otherwise, you might need to pay for a fine when caught.

Our duty to look after Yehliu Geopark, while saving the environment in our own way, is for the sake of the next generations whose imagination will also be aroused by these treasured beings and narratives of this place. The staff would like more people to enjoy the unique scenery it offers to the world. The rock structures in this geopark are still actively developing and dynamically changing with the tides of our times today. So, it is only rightful if we give them the same amount of growth they need, as much as we do.

At the end of the day, the trip I had in Yehliu wasn’t too bad at all! It was beautiful, stunning scenery to keep in my memories as I move forward to the present. Through my travel to Yehliu Geopark, we were able to unveil the mist and take a glimpse of the true colors of ordinary rocks and common seas. We got to know many stories of still stones, and the amazing people who make the geopark the apple of the eye for more tourists. A part of nature—to witness its ability and wonders through an alleviating journey to find peace—Yehliu Geopark can surely be described that way. If you’re interested in travelling to Taiwan, Yehliu Geopark is a tourist spot that you absolutely must consider in your own bucket lists! Maybe not now while the pandemic is still ongoing, but someday, hopefully! I’d love to hear your own experiences in visiting the geopark in the comments!

╔ ———————————————————————————— ╗

Yehliu Geopark is open from 8 AM to 5 PM. One entry ticket costs 80 NTD or New Taiwan dollars for one adult tourist. On the other hand, kids aged 6 to 12 can avail an entry ticket half its price. In the Philippines, 80 NTD is 139.54 pesos, while 40 NTD is 69.77 pesos, as of June 15, 2021. However, you can get a 20% discounted group ticket if you are a group of 30 or more people. The geopark is located in the Heart of Asia—Taiwan! Its exact address is No. 167-1, Kantung Rd., Yehliu, Wanli, New Taipei City, Taiwan.

If you are already in Taiwan, you can get to Yehliu Geopark either through bus or car. There are four routes that you can choose from if you will ride on a bus. Meanwhile, if you choose to arrive at the geopark by car, there are five dispatch options that are possible to use, depending on your starting point. You can check this link for more information regarding a planned trip. Safe travels, and thank you for reading! Let’s meet again in another blog where my fantasies become realities! A Nikki reminder: find passion in your work, and you’ll never tire from it! See you!

╚ ———————————————————————————— ╝

· * ✫ * ⊹ * ˚ . . 　　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · . * · . · · + . ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ· ** ˚ . . + 　　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · . *

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ. . + 　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · .˚ ⊹ · * ✧ ⋆ · * . · . · · .. . .

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ· + ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ· * ✫ * ⊹ * ˚

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ · ** ˚ . . + ㅤㅤ　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · .˚ ⊹ · * ✧

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⋆ · * . · ㅤㅤ . · · .. . . · + .

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ. · + . *

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⋆ * . * . .

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ . · ·

ㅤㅤ﹙dedication. ﹚ ୨˚୧ ˚ ༘♡.↳ ₊˚‧

This blog is dedicated to heroes who stay to be ordinary, because they glisten the most when their humbleness is that of the rocks and seas. You are truly the ones who give Rising Hope to all of us.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹋﹋﹌﹌﹌「 🌄 」﹌﹌﹌﹋﹋

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ┊彡 Credits

➥ Cover Edit

➫ Pictures captured by my mom, Helen Sy

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

➥ Blog Dividers

➫ Pictures captured by my mom, Helen Sy

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

➥ Source of Information

➫ Yehliu Geopark Bruisure

➫ Yehliu Geopark’s website

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ﹋﹋﹌﹌﹌「 end. 」﹌﹌﹌﹋﹋

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ⭆ Back to Homepage ⭅

⇦ Previous Blogㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ Next Blog ⇨

#NEU-IS PH #Creative Non-fiction #Feature Article #Blogging #Travelogue #aNikKis Fantasirealities #Yehliu #Yehliu Taiwan #Yehliu Geopark

[annarellix]

THESE FEATHERED FLAMES By Alexandra Overy (excerpt)

On Sale: April 20, 2021 INKYARD PRESS YOUNG ADULT FICTION/Fantasy/ Epic/Fairy Tales & Folklore/ Adaptations/Family/Siblings/Romance/LGBTQ+

Book Description

When twin heirs are born in Tourin, their fates are decided at a young age. While Izaveta remained at court to learn the skills she’d need as the future queen, Asya was taken away to train with her aunt, the mysterious Firebird, who ensured magic remained balanced in the realm.

But before Asya’s training is completed, the ancient power blooms inside her, which can mean only one thing: the queen is dead, and a new ruler must be crowned. As the princesses come to understand everything their roles entail, they’ll discover who they can trust, who they can love—and who killed their mother.

About the Author

ALEXANDRA OVERY was born in London, England. Ever since she was little she has loved being able to escape into another world through books. She currently lives in Los Angeles, and is completing her MFA in Screenwriting at UCLA. When she's not working on a new manuscript or procrastinating on doing homework, she can be found obsessing over Netflix shows, or eating all the ice cream she can.

Social Links:

Author website: https://www.alexandraovery.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/alexandraovery Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/AllyWritesAndStuff/ Facebook: N/A Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19571930.Alexandra_Overy

Buy Links: Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/These-Feathered-Flames/dp/1335147969/ Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/these-feathered-flames-alexandra-overy/1137165080 IndieBound: https://www.indiebound.org/book/9781335147967 Books-A-Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/These-Feathered-Flames/Alexandra-Overy/9781335147967 AppleBooks:    https://books.apple.com/lv/book/these-feathered-flames/id1518023051

Excerpted from These Feathered Flames by Alexandra Overy © 2021, used with permission from Inkyard Press/HarperCollins. 

Chapter One

The prey wasn’t meant to be a child.

When Asya had smelled the sharp tang of magic—strong even before she emerged from the tree line—that possibility hadn’t so much as fluttered across her mind. It was never meant to be a child.

But the scent of magic was undeniable. That indistinguishable combination of damp overturned earth and the metallic copper of blood, cut through with the acrid burn of power. It was overlaid with the cloying sweetness of waterose, as if someone had tried to mask it.

A futile attempt.

And Asya was sure this time. The person they were looking for had to be here.

The comfort of the forest stood at her back, the dark canopy of trees stretching behind her in every direction. The fading sunlight could not break through the writhing tangle of branches, so in the shadow of the trunks, it was dark as twilight.

Most people feared the forest. Stories of monsters that lurked in its depths, witches who lured unsuspecting children in and tore out their hearts. But to Asya it had always felt safe, the gnarled trunks and rustling leaves were like old friends.

“This is it,” Asya said, inclining her head toward the clearing in front of them.

A slight smile tugged at her lips. Two years ago, when her great-aunt had first deemed her ready to try tracking herself—to follow the magic with only her mortal senses once they were close enough to the source—she’d found it impossible. More often than not, she just led them in circles until Tarya gave up on her. But today, Asya had managed it.

She might not be as unwavering as her aunt, as strong or as dutiful, but at least Asya had succeeded in this.

She glanced over at Tarya, waiting for her reaction. But her aunt stood stiller than the trees, an immovable presence in their midst. The shadowed light filtering through the leaves cast her face in stark relief, carving deep hollows into her snow-white cheeks and emphasizing the wrinkles at her brow. She could have been a painting—one of the old oil portraits of the gods, soft brushstrokes of light adding an ethereal glow to her stern face.

It made her look otherworldly. Inhuman.

Which she was. One of the creatures that prowled these trees.

While Asya, or any other mortal, could smell the residual magic, her aunt could feel it. No amount of waterose or burned sage—or any of the other tricks people tried—could hide magic from Tarya.

Her dark eyes flickered to Asya. “Correct,” her aunt murmured, a hint of satisfaction in her soft voice.

In front of them, the comforting trees gave way to an open paddock. It had been allowed to run wild, chamomile glinting yellow in the long grass, like sun spots on water. Purple-capped mushrooms pushed their way through the weeds, intertwining with the soft lilac of scattered crocuses.

The tinge of pride in Asya’s chest melted away, replaced by a thrumming anticipation. The paddock could have been beautiful, she supposed. But the cold apprehension burning in her stomach overshadowed it, darkening the flowers to poisonous thorns and muting the colors like fog. It was always like this. Ever since the first time Tarya had taken her on a hunt. Once she was left without a task to complete—a distraction—Asya couldn’t pretend to forget what came next. She’d hoped it would get better, but she still couldn’t shake the lingering fear.

She shifted her feet, trying to ignore the erratic rhythm of her heart. She hated waiting. Each frantic beat stretching out into an eternity.

She just wanted this to be over.

After all, her sister had always been the brave one.

But that was why Asya was here. Why she had to follow this path, no matter how she wavered. She owed it to her sister. They were the two sides of a coin, and if Asya failed, then her sister would too.

Tarya’s words—the words Asya had to live by—pounded through her. This is our duty. Not a question of right or wrong, but balance.

Her aunt stepped forward. She moved silently, slipping like a shadow untethered from its owner, from the gnarled trees and out into the overgrown paddock beyond. She didn’t speak—she rarely did when she felt a Calling—but Asya knew she was meant to follow.

Asya took a shaky breath, touching one finger to the wooden icon around her neck. An unspoken prayer. She could do this.

Far less quietly, she followed Tarya into the uneven grass, wincing at the snapping twigs beneath her boots.

The paddock led to a small cottage, surrounded by more soft crocuses. Their purple seeped out from the house like a bruise. The building’s thatched roof had clearly been recently repaired, and the gray stone was all but consumed by creeping moss. The stench of magic grew with each step Asya took. Wateroses lay scattered on the ground, interspersed with dried rosemary sprigs. The too-sweet scent, cut through with the burn of magic, made her stomach turn.

Tarya stopped by the wooden door. Marks of various saints had been daubed across it in stark black paint, uneven and still wet. Acts of desperation. They felt out of place in the idyllic scene. The sight sent a prickle of unease through Asya’s gut.

“Your weapon,” Tarya prompted, her voice as low as the rustle of grass behind them.

Asya’s fingers jumped to the curved bronze shashka at her waist. A careless mistake. She should have drawn the short blade long before. She couldn’t let the apprehension clawing at the edge of her mind overwhelm her. Not this time. 

She had to be sure. Uncompromising. She had to be like Tarya.

Asya unsheathed the weapon, the bronze glinting in the fading light, and forced her hand to steady.

Her aunt gave her a long look, one that said she knew just how Asya’s heart roiled beneath the surface. But Tarya just nodded, turning back to the freshly marked door. Sparks already danced behind her eyes—deep red and burnished-gold flames swallowing her dark irises. It transformed her from ethereal into something powerful.

Monstrous.

Asya swallowed, pushing that thought away. Her aunt wasn’t a monster.

Tarya reached out and pressed her palm to the wood. Heat rolled from her in a great wave, making Asya’s eyes water. A low splintering noise fractured the air, followed by the snap of the metal bolt. The door swung open. All that was left of the painted sigils was a scorched handprint. Asya’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t help but feel that breaking the saints’ signs was violating some ancient covenant.

But Tarya just stepped inside. Asya tightened her grip on the blade, trying to shake off the sense of foreboding nipping at her heels, and followed.

The cottage was comprised of a single small room. Heavy fabric hung over the windows, leaving them half in shadow. As Asya’s vision adjusted, she took in the shapes of furniture—all overturned or smashed against the cracked walls. Clothes were strewn across the floor in a whirl, along with a few shattered plates and even a broken viila, its strings snapped and useless. A statue of Saint Meshnik lay on its side, their head several paces from their armored body. The room looked like it had been ransacked, perhaps set upon by thieves.

Or like someone wanted it to seem that way.

Tarya turned slowly, her sparking eyes taking in the room. Then her gaze fixed on a spot to her left, and flames reared across her irises again. Asya couldn’t see anything. But she knew her aunt was not really looking at the wall, she was feeling—reaching for those intangible threads that bound the world and using them to narrow in on her prey.

Asya waited, her breath caught in her chest.

Tarya moved in a flash, as though Vetviya herself had looked down and granted her secret passage through the In-Between. One moment beside Asya, the next in front of the wall. Flames, as golden and bright as sunlight, sputtered from her wrists, licking along her forearms. She put her hands on the wall, and the flames eagerly reached out to devour.

They burned away what must have been a false panel, revealing a tight crevice behind. Three faces stared out, eyes wide and afraid. Two children, a boy and a girl, clutching onto a man with ash-white hair, now covered in a faint sheen of soot.

“Oryaze,” he breathed, terror rising on his face like waves over a hapless ship. Firebird.

Bile burned in Asya’s throat. She took a halting step back, staring at the huddled family. It’s the man, she told herself. It had to be. The thought murmured through her, a desperate prayer to any god or saint who might be listening.

The man leaped forward, spreading his arms as though hiding the children from view might protect them. As though anything he did would make a difference. “I won’t let you touch her!” he cried, grabbing one of the broken chair legs and brandishing it like a sword.

Asya clenched her teeth, a sharp jab of pity shooting through her. It would be no use. Nothing would.

The flames coiled lazily around Tarya’s wrists as she watched the man with a detached curiosity. “The price must be paid.”

He let out a low sob, the chair leg clattering uselessly to the ground as he clasped his hands together as if in prayer. “Please, take it from me. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

The room was too hot, the flames scorching the very air in Asya’s lungs. This is what has to be done, she intoned. This is our duty. The same words her aunt had hammered into her. Asya’s knuckles shone white on the hilt of her shashka, the cool metal tethering her to the ground, to this moment, and not the rising guilt in the back of her mind. A panic that threatened to crush her.

“I cannot,” Tarya said, her voice hollow. “The price must be taken from the one who cast the spell.” With a casual flick of her wrist, a burst of fire sprang at the man. He dived aside, toppling into an overturned table.

The little boy was crying now, soft whimpers barely louder than the spitting flames. But the girl did not cry, even as Tarya wrapped an elegant hand around her arm and dragged her forward.

Asya saw the stratsviye clearly against the milk-white skin of the girl’s wrist. A mass of black lines that coalesced to form a burning feather, seared into her flesh like a brand. The mark of the Firebird. The mark that meant a debt had to be paid. 

“Please,” the man said again, pulling himself from the collapsed table. “Please, she didn’t mean to—”

“Asya,” her aunt said, without looking up from the mark.

Asya knew what she was meant to do, but her legs took a moment to obey. Muscles protesting though her mind could not. But she moved forward anyway, placing herself between the man and the little girl, shashka raised in warning.

No one could interfere with the price.

The man scrambled for the chair leg again, leveling it at Asya with trembling hands. “She only did it to save her brother,” he pleaded, emotion cracking through his voice like summer ice. “He was sick. She didn’t know the consequences.”

Asya’s gaze slid to the little girl. To the determined set of her jaw, her defiantly dry eyes. That look wrenched something in Asya’s chest. The resolve she’d so carefully built crumbled around her. She knew what is was like to have a sibling you would do anything—risk anything—for.

But Tarya was unmoved. “Now she will know—magic always comes with a price.”

He lunged. He was clumsy, fueled by fear and desperation. Asya should have been able to stop him easily, but she hesitated. A single thought caught in her mind: Is it so wrong of him to want to protect his daughter?

That one, faltering breath cost her. The man swung the chair leg at her, catching the side of her head. Bright lights danced in front of her eyes. She stumbled into the wall as the man let out a fractured cry and threw himself toward Tarya.

Tarya did not hesitate.

Another tongue of flame reared from her, forcing the man back. This one was more than a warning. The acrid smell of burnt flesh sliced through the scent of magic. A low, broken sob trembled in the air as the man clutched his now-scorched left side.

Tarya’s head snapped to Asya, flames flashing bloodred.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in her head, Asya darted forward. She grabbed the man’s arm and twisted, sending the chair leg tumbling to the ground again. It was painfully easy. The injury made his attempt to swing back at her fly wide, and her hands fastened on him again. She spun him, one arm wrapping around him, the other holding the shashka to his throat. Her chest heaved, and her head reeled. But she didn’t move.

He let out a low whimper, still trying to struggle free. Asya pressed the blade deeper, almost wincing as a trickle of blood ran down his throat. “Don’t,” she said, half command, half plea. “You’ll just make it worse.”

Tarya had already turned back to her prey. Her gleaming eyes, still threaded with flame, stared down at the girl. There was no malice on her face, just a cold emptiness. Asya wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

“You must understand, child,” Tarya said. “The price has to be paid.”

And in a breath, she transformed.

Flames devoured her eyes, spreading from the pupils until they were no more than luminous orbs. Twin suns, captured in a face. But the fire did not end there. It rose up out of her like a living thing. Glinting golds and burnt oranges twisted with deepest crimson to form hooked wings, spread behind her like a blazing cape. Another head loomed above her own, a vicious, living mask. It formed a sharp beak, feathered flames rising from it to forge the great bird’s plumage. They arched up into an expression of cruel indifference, mirroring the human features below. The very walls of the cottage trembled.

The Firebird.

Asya felt her hand go slack. A deep, instinctual fear sank into her bones. She had seen her aunt transform before, more times than she could count. But that primal fear never went away. The mortal instinct that she should run from this creature.

She was eleven when she’d first seen her aunt exact a price. Asya had been naive and desperate to shirk her new responsibility, to run back to her sister. Tarya had brought her on a hunt to see—to truly understand—the weight of this responsibility.

It had terrified Asya then. It still terrified her now, six years later.

Everything about the flaming creature exuded power. Not the simple spells mortals toyed with, but the kind of power drawn from the depths of the earth, ancient and deadly.

The girl could not hide her fear now. It shone in her dark eyes like a beacon as she tried to back away, but Tarya’s curled fingers held her tight. The boy was screaming. The sound rose in Asya’s ears to a high keening, writhing through her insides.

The creature—Tarya—looked down at the girl, head cocked to one side. Considering.

Asya wanted to close her eyes. To pretend she was somewhere far away, safe beneath a canopy of trees. But she couldn’t. 

She had to do this. This was the duty the gods had chosen her for. The burden she had accepted.

And looking away would feel like abandoning the little girl.

Asya tried to take a breath to steady her whirling thoughts, but the very air was bitter and scorched. Please be something small, she thought. Not her heart.

She couldn’t stand back and watch that. Or, perhaps, she didn’t want to believe that she would just stand aside as this monster tore the girl’s heart from her body.

Because Asya knew she would. Knew she had to. That was her price.

The flames spread down Tarya’s left arm, coiling like a great serpent as they bridged across her fingers to the girl. A cry tore through the air, raw and achingly human. The greedy, blazing tendrils wrapped around the girl’s arm, as unmoved by the screams as their master. They consumed the flesh as if it were nothing more than parchment.

In only a few frantic beats of Asya’s heart, the girl’s left arm was gone. Not just burned, but gone. No trace of it remained. No charred bone, not even a scattering of ashes.

The price had been paid.

The flames receded, the creature folding back in on itself until it was no more than a spark in Tarya’s eyes. All that was left was a heavy smoke in the air, thick and choking.

Asya let her hand holding the shashka fall. The man threw himself forward—though Asya had a feeling he would have moved even if her blade had still been at his throat—and clutched the little girl, who was still half-frozen in shock. The boy flung himself at his sister too, his screams reduced to gasping cries. 

Asya’s stomach curled as she stared down at the huddled family, enclosed in a grief she had helped cause.

She backed away. It was suddenly all too much. The suffocating smoke. The man’s ragged sobs. The blistered stump that had been the girl’s arm. Her aunt’s impassive face, as empty as the carved saint’s head on the ground.

Asya whirled around, pushing back through the broken door. She doubled over as she stumbled across the threshold, leaning a hand against the moss-eaten stone to keep upright. Bile rose in her throat.

It had never been a child before. Despite all the hunts Tarya had taken her on, all the training lessons, Asya hadn’t thought of that possibility—that it could be a little girl desperate to save her brother.

Something wet trickled from the wound on Asya’s head, but she barely felt it. Her insides had been hollowed out.

All she could see were the little girl’s eyes. The ghastly reflection of the Firebird in them, looming and monstrous. A creature of legend.

A creature that, one day, Asya would become. 

#chapter excerpt #YA #LGBT #inkyard press #NetGalley