- May 11
- 5 min read
Writing fiction provides the unique ability to cause significant distress and harm to characters and then heal them almost immediately. I have contemplated this extensively in recent weeks, observing various bruises and surgical sites as they undergo healing and repair. This process is intriguing and requires time, but patience for this process is something I lack when it is MY own healing that needs to occur.
On April 16th, I had surgery. While I won't go into the graphic details, it was a significant procedure. The soreness at the surgical sites, in addition to the bruising from IV sites and blood draws, is expected but is still equally challenging both physically and mentally, as it forced me to confront human vulnerability.
In the Wings of Time trilogy, I crafted both Liam and Hallie to exhibit immense bravery as they encounter various supernatural challenges. I remember doing thorough research on hand-to-hand combat before writing the scene set in that Ferrum field on July 4, 1958, where Will (also known as Liam) faced the demon, Sariel. This is the same demon who had killed his cousin and friend in the past. Although Will was much stronger now compared to back then, he needed all his courage to fight in that battle:
From nowhere, a bone-chilling roar cuts through the air.
Will's muscles tense. "Over there at the woods edge."
He and Connie respond, drawing swords and moving around the girls and Hallie until Sariel steps into the meadow. They turn, moving toward him. Will tightens and relaxes his grip on the hilt of his sword. Air flows in and out of his lungs, and the oxygen saturates every cell of his body. His eyes narrow, focusing on the threat before them, and his thoughts gauge the best strategy to counter each of Sariel's potential moves as he advances.
"How dare you defile the perfection of my sacrifice?" The gritty allegation fires from a transforming Dillon McCaffrey. His eyes are tawny and blazing. His thin frame barely holds in tense, bulging muscles while his skin shines with a glistening film of sweat. Within seconds, his frame expands to a bulge of powerful muscles, shredding the slender human form they had been occupying. A poleax appears in Sariel's raised hand, and he closes the distance between them while completing the transformation to the demon known to Connie and Will with a cloven hoof, fiery red skin, and braided hair hanging to the middle of his scarred back. A horned helmet crowns his head while a breast plate and spiked shoulder guards appear. Leather replaced the casual pants with a heavy boot covering his foot, while lethal barbs circle above his hoof. The ground trembles under his weighted steps...He is focused on Hallie, charging straight towards her.
Time seems to slow as Will spins around, blocking the way. There is a moment when they circle, sizing one another up, but then the clash of their weapons rings across the wilderness, silencing the bird song once again. Will's body reverberates with the blow, and the three serpents hiss, striking several times, but they don't hit their mark. Sariel grabs Will by the neck and flings him to the side, resuming his advance towards Hallie.
Will sees her stand with her spindle in hand. Her eyes widen, and she shifts her weight with trembling legs. Connie runs forward with her sword, but Will recovers quickly, bounding towards them while taking a leap to close the space more quickly. He swings his sword, slicing into Sariel's arm. The demon swings around toward him.
"Connie, stay put," Will yells as he raises his sword to deflect Sariel's next attack. The demon is powerful, but Will's protective marks shine bright, fortifying his strength. He turns and swings tightly to his left, lunging forward and slicing the demon's flank.
Sariel roars and ensues with a forward advance, plunging his poleaxe with one blow after another, sending Will back with each strike against his sword. Sariel turns and cuts an elbow across the back of Will's neck, hurling him onto the ground.
Will's head hits hard, and he loses grip on his sword. His ears ring, and he feels the sticky trickling of blood at his mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees Connie advancing. "No!" he bellows.
Sariel turns on a heel toward Connie. Will grasps desperately at the ground, laying his hand on a large rock. He hurls it towards Sariel, striking him on the back of the head. Sariel falls forward, affording Will time to retrieve his sword and rejoin the melee. He holds his hand up to Connie, warding her off the field. She paces, holding her weapon at the ready. Hallie is just behind her, gripping her spindle while casting side glances towards the girls.
"When I signal and not before," Will shouts towards Connie. Drew could not bear losing her, and Will knows he must work on wearing the demon down as much as possible before she engages.
He staves off several more blows from Sariel. His muscles are starting to tremor with exhaustion, and he fears he may not be able to bring the demon down. A mixture of sweat and blood stings his eyes, and he spats to the ground the salty mix that has accumulated in his mouth. He continues blocking blow after blow but makes little progress with the offense, and the demon shows no sign of slowing down.
He bears down hard on Will and roars, landing a powerful strike that hurls Will to the ground. The final assault from the demon threatens to crash down over Will's skull, and he looks to the side, seeing Hallie and Connie looking on, ready to engage, but he knows the demon has not been weakened enough for them to take him on. He musters his strength and raises up his sword over his head, blocking the swing of the weapon. His arm shudders while he struggles to rise from the ground and keep Saril's poleaxe at bay. His muscles burn and threaten to fail him. Connie moves forward and distracts Sariel just long enough to allow Will to spin around, causing the metal-on-metal from their locked weapons to screech with a sickening sound that abruptly silences when Will plunges his spindle into Sariel's side, cracking through ribs and puncturing his lung.
The demon's arm falls downward, and he loses grip on the poleaxe, watching it hit the ground. His eyes widen, and he rolls them towards Will while drawing in a noisy breath...
(Book three of the trilogy: Secrets of Time: Finding Light.)
No, I don't think so. I would have left at the first roar. Yet, that's the beauty of fiction—it crafts a world where we can momentarily escape from a harsh and demanding reality. Magical realism is among my favorite genres. This is just one of the many reflections I had while recalling this battle in my story, as I eagerly awaited healing and reclaimed my mental clarity over what feels like an excessively long period (though it's not that long, all things considered).
May every challenge you face ultimately provide you with strength in the way that benefits you most. SD Barron.
