“We should write a book…”
Over the wineglasses, it seemed like a good idea. Not that anyone would believe the half of what we would have to recount. Far from exaggerating our adventures and jumping on the bandwagon of sensationalism, we would probably have to tone them down a little. Not everyone believes in magic.
There was no lightning strike called down by some evil villain, no waving of wands or chanting of barbarous names… but magic was what we found in the living land, its ancient and sacred places… and in the birds that appeared to be guiding us on a quest we barely realised we were beginning. It was a journey that would see us questioning the meaning of beheaded saints painted on the walls of a medieval church and the arcane stories hidden in plain sight. It would lead us along the dragon lines, teaching us to listen to the whispering of the land and into the realms of vision.
It was a journey where “nothing happened”… and everything changed.
We wrote the story. It was not the first book for either of us, but it was to be the first of many that we would write together, documenting a magical and spiritual quest through history, symbolism and the ancient places of Albion.
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