The name-chain and the Kyl-Cris stones

Have you, as the parent of more than one child, ever ran through the names trying to get to the one you are calling down? You know, one kid is doing something and in your effort to call their name, you run through the litany of all the kids names. Sometimes, you even include pet names, or make up names. I know my mom did it and with six kids, it could be a long stuttering list. If you were the child in question, (and you always knew if you were) you would stop and wait. You knew the names would get to you eventually. This brief respite while the name chain was being rolled out, was your momentary pause before the punishment or explanation was doled out.

I have seen TJ do this many times. Yes, she does at times include the pet names. TJ has two daughters and two sons. On one of these occasions, she called one of the boys, "Kyle-Chris." From this name chain came the Kyl-Cris stones.

Hence:

The legend of the KylCris stones.

The power originates from the joining of the twin stones .. Kyl and Cris

The possessor of the stones .. rules by the power of the stones ..

Morgan the Lee .. ruled with fear and an iron hand .. challenges to his rule were met with swift and merciless retribution .. Battlefields were stained red with the blood of those opposed to him .. His dungeons rang with the groans of tortured souls ..

Logan the Swift was born a peasant. He grew up a thief. He was a skilled pickpocket and was just as quick with his tongue should diplomacy be called for. More than once, he had escaped the iron hand of the Lee and the shackles of his dungeons.

Still, these were hard times. A man needs allies to live in such days. Alliances were forged in the fire. Every man was an asset or a liability. These days, one could ill afford many liabilities. Life was not highly valued unless it was your own. The lives of others were merely bargaining chips in a game that stretched over the decades since the Lee came to power. Allies were still allies because they were still alive. Ill-fated alliances were generally left bleeding on the field or screaming in the dungeons.

Logan trusted very few. He was loyal to his allies, but relied more on his own cunning and skill.

There were two dungeons located on the opposing ends of the kingdom of the Lee. This was more than coincidence. Beneath the crowded cells in each of them was a small hollowed out cavern. In these caverns were the twin stones. The Kyl in one and the Cris in the other. The power of these two stones crossed the entire kingdom, bathing it in their affect.

At his side, sheathed in leather, was the sword of Morgan the Lee. In the hilt, overlaid with silver, were two slivers, a piece of each stone. This was the source of his control. This was the source of his power. This was the birth and progenitor of his madness.

The power and effect of the twin stones permeated the land. They boosted the natural aggression of warriors. Roving bands of cutthroats roamed the land. Danger was everywhere. There were few laws in a land ruled by the most lawless of all. There were no more idyllic villages. Villages became the property of the underlords of the Lee. The underlords and their bands took without fear. They owned not only the lands, but the inhabitants as well. No one dared oppose them. Owners became slaves at the whim of the Lee.

To be continued ....

someone mentioned stories ....

I was reading one of my regular reads and the author mentioned how times have changed how we tell 'stories.' Way back in the old days (you know, when I was a boy) video cameras were not as prevalent as today. Some people had them, but no where near like today when every cell phone is a camcorder and every person is a video-journalist. Way back in those days we had this archaic method of saving stories - we told them to our children. We passed history down by word of mouth.

This got me to thinking about stories I had heard and stories I knew to be true. I thought about my Granny. (Don't tell the other kids, but I was her favorite grandkid.) My Granny was an amazing woman. Here is only a small part of her amazing life:

One of my heroes

My grandmother on my dad’s side is one of my heroes. She is a truly amazing woman. She passed away in April of 2007 at the age of 92. She lived a full and colorful life. She related tales to us on several occasions as I was growing up. I will try to relate some of those as I remember them and add a few that I witnessed personally.

Husband #1
She married my papaw when she was 13 years old. He was 27 years old. He owned a farm and had a two story house on it. When they moved in, papaw told her she had no need to go upstairs. As is curiosity, it finally pushed her to venture upstairs one day while papaw was working in the fields. When he returned that afternoon, she asked him about all that stuff in one of the rooms. He beat her. She had found his still. Papaw was a moonshiner. Her brothers were going to kill him, but she convinced them not too. She told them that she would just leave him. She was 14 and pregnant. She gave birth to dad when she was 15 years old.

Husband #2
After papaw she married a guy whose name none of us seem to remember. He was inconsequential as he was unfaithful within six week and the marriage was ended.

Husband #3
Then came June Griffeth. He was the papaw I remember best. I remember granny telling the story of June coming to meet her parents for supper. She and her three sisters were at the table with her parents and June. One by one the sisters excused themselves from the table. What June and the parents didn’t know was the reason. They were fist fighting with the neighbors. They were actually in the middle of a highway with traffic stopped both directions and they ‘duked’ it out. In spite of this, she and June married. He died when she was 70. I remember his as a good man. They were married 40 years.

Husband #4
When granny was 72, she told us grandkids that she had to get remarried. When we asked her why, she told us that she “was horny.” She had to get married as she didn’t accept sex outside marriage. She married Henderson. He was a great guy for her. He worshipped her. He put her on a pedestal. She was like a kid with him. He passed away when she was 80.

Husband #5
She called me when she was 82 years old. Dad had forewarned me of her impending call. I asked her what she wanted. She told me she wanted me to marry her. I told her, “Granny, there are laws against the in this state, but if we go to West Virginia, I think we can do it.” “No no no ,” she said, “I want you to perform the ceremony.” Of course, I agreed. I skipped my 20th year high school reunion and married my grandmother to Homer.

Now, Homer had some issues. He was jealous of her dead husbands. I am quite sure none of them were coming back to steal her. He also had another issue that caused problem. Homer had a erectile problem. At 82, Granny was still about some sex. Homer got that problem fixed. Homer died a couple years later. I think she might have been just wearing these poor fellows out.

Husband #6
Before she met James, she was seeing a guy that was younger than dad. I remember that conversation at Christmas time. That didn’t work out and she met and married James. James was a good man. Granny was like a young girl. She got excited about simple things. She loved to pop bubble wrap. She loved good conversation. She loved my wife. She said, after meeting Tammy for the first time that I “had picked a pretty one.”

Granny was infamous for her “prettiest one yet” line. Every great grandchild born was the prettiest one yet. She had a stroke about a year before she passed. She had some troubles after that with clarity. She was clear most of the time, but could be muddled in the mornings.

When Dad had surgery and the subsequent events that lead to his death, she didn’t know. She had a stroke just about that same time. Her veins collapsed so she was not able to be fed intravenously. With no food and only as much water as would be expressed in wetting her lips, she held on for over a month. When we visited her, she would squeeze our hands. She couldn’t speak, but she would make her desire known. She pulled my hand close. My voice and dad’s voice are very similar. I think she thought I was him. I let her know it was ok to go.

Four weeks to the day after Dad passed, she joined him.