Mythology and FantasySince I was a young child, I was fascinated by legends and mythology, especially Hun legends such as Emese's Dream, King Attila, and the legend of Turul bird
According to http://turul.info/, the mythical Turul bird is one of the most important symbols of the Hungarians. The Turul is seen as the ancestor of Attila and is often depicted carrying the flaming Sword of God.
The legend of Emese, who was the descendant of King Atilla and wife of Ügyek, once had a dream. As the Turul bird appeared in her dream, a crystal-clear stream started to flow from her. As the water flowed, it grew into a mighty river. It was thought that the dream represented her symbolic impregnation by the Turul, and it meant that she would give birth to a line of great rulers. Emese found out shortly after the dream that she was pregnant. She gave birth to Álmos, who was the father of Árpád, the great leader of the Magyars and founder of Hungary. This legend reaffirms the Hun-Magyar kinship and the knowledge that the Magyars re-conquered Hungary as their rightful inheritance from Atilla's great Hun Empire.
In my fantasy series, The Ancestors' Secrets, I weaved my favorite legends and bits of historical facts into the story, that plays out in the present and past, with intriguing tribal secrets, magical heritage, love triangle, and an exciting and dangerous life in a secret society.
I love this beautiful video about the ancient beliefs, the mythology of the World Tree. It also mentions Attila the Hun and the Turul bird that carries the Sword of God.
Video credit to Mythology https://youtu.be/NLxEl7pnsMc
Read short excerpts from book 1 of The Ancestors' Secrets Trilogy
I lit the sacred candles infused with herbs and then placed them in a silver candle holder on a small round table. The ancient wooden male and female figurines holding hands stood between the candles, with our delicately carved Turul bird with a crown on its head and a sword in its talons. The Falcon held widely stretched wings over the figurines as if protecting them.The statues had been in my family for centuries, they were small and had a deep, warm brown color. The rich, shiny brown hue came from the hot herbal tea Elza poured over the statues every morning, as my ancestors had done for generations. Beside the statues was an ancient, dark leather-bound book. Its permanent place was on the Prayer table, and every Hun family had one. I had leafed through our book many times. The first few pages remained empty to me, but the rest of the book contained my ancestor’s names and achievements, written in ancient handwriting. Mom had said when I asked her about the empty pages, “The Book will reveal all its secrets to you, but only when you when you reach the age of maturity.” I wondered if I were ready; I was entering into Hun adulthood after all, so I made a mental note to check the book the next day, after prayer time.
Elza wrapped the ceremonial shawl over my shoulders as I took a deep breath and held my hands above the table. I began the prayer by reading the Hun writing, carved into the leather cover of the book of my ancestors. Following the ancient traditions, we prayed as a family in the morning to the First Mother and Father, and we prayed to the Creator at night, in solitude.
Mother and Father leading in unity,
Protected by the Turul for eternity,
Guide my soul and keep my body healthy.
Test my courage and try my patience,
Let me prove I have endurance.
Let compassion always guide me,
Make me wise to help the needy.
Challenge me on my daily journey,
And give me the strength to prove I’m worthy.
Closing my eyes, I held my hands in silence over the table for a minute and embraced the serene feeling I always had while saying the prayer. Warm energy flooded my insides, and I experienced a deep connection to something powerful, majestic and welcoming.
I was still a little angry with Elza for not letting me read her feelings. She was murmuring under her breath, as she did every morning. It was a low, rhythmic humming sound, but I did recognize some of the ancient Hun words. She refused to give me an explanation whenever I asked her about it, but I’d seen her doing the strange whispering, at Morning Prayer, ever since she came to live with us.
I turned and saw Joland collapsing on the ground in agony. He held his head with both hands, screaming in pain. I didn’t understand what was happening to him. He didn’t appear to be injured.
Elana made it clear, “It was foretold. The minute the child is born, Joland will lose all his powers.”
I watched Joland wiggling on the ground and then he went still. I thought he was dead, but then he moved. “Curse you. I curse you all,” he shouted.
He stood, climbed up on his horse, and nudging it he started galloping out of the cave. Cheers erupted, and Joland’s remaining army rode after their defeated leader. I dropped the shield and shouted, “Wait, Joland!”
He looked back with a murderous look in his eyes, “What? You defeated me, and I’m nothing but a broken man. I won’t stand your gloating.” He turned.
“I can take you to Morana. You can spend the rest of your life with her.”
He turned back to me and gave me a suspicious look, “Why would you do that?”
“Because… It just feels like the right thing to do.”
He rode closer and slid off his horse. “You would do this for me? After all I have done?”
“Yes, I would.”
He gave me a long and hard look, and then the fierce look on his face slowly softened. Tears filled his eyes and rolled down his face. He knelt before me, “Then I’m your servant,” he said.
Mundzuk drew his sword and took a step toward Joland, “You can’t trust him,” he said with a sneer.
“No, don’t hurt him. He’s an ordinary man with no powers,” I said. “He can’t harm anyone. I will take him to our timeline and unite him with his love.”
Mundzuk obeyed and put his sword back, “You are a noble person, Ilona. I would not have been so generous.”
A sudden bright light poured down from the ceiling of the cave. A 3D picture appeared before us. It seemed so real. The sacred Turul with a flaming sword descended slowly and hovered over us.
“The Sword of the Gods!” I heard Elana’s voice.
I felt a burning sensation on the side of my neck and itching under my left eye as I stared mesmerized at the lifelike image of the magnificent bird.
“Ilona!” I heard Elza’s voice, “There is a mark of the sword etched into your skin, and your Royal mark has changed.” She reached into her pocket handed me a makeup compact with a small mirror. I saw the sign of the Queen on my face.
Mundzuk kneeled, “My Queen.” He said, and the others followed. I looked around frantically and saw everyone kneeling and offering their service and life to me. The kneeling people around me had the expressions of devotion and submission on their faces. Bela knelt with the others and looked up at me with devotion, deep pain, and acceptance in his eyes.
I was stunned and automatically froze time. I was surprised to see the group of spirits still moving, gesturing and every one of them looking at me with expectation.
“Chosen by the Sword is a great honor and also a great responsibility.” I heard Tua’s voice.
This suspense fantasy takes the reader back to the life of people in ancient times.
A romantic suspense novella. Dark family secrets separated Emily and Daniel when they were teenagers, but fate brought them together again. Jayden, Emily’s brother, finds a leather book in his grandmother's secret room that was written in 426 by a shaman. Emily can read the ancient runes and finds out that if the family curse remains unbroken, it will bring ruin their lives as it destroyed many of their ancestors' lives for centuries. Can they find the way to break the ancient curse? Could Emily find happiness with her childhood puppy love, Daniel?
"Szabo expertly weaves this story through both today's timeline and that of yesterday's and brings us out on the other side with an amazing ending."
I write fantasy novels, children's books, and health-related books. Visit my website: http://www.authorerikamszabo.com