Lervana
Musings

What is a Lervanian?

Lervanians are the humanoid species that inhabit the planet Lervana. I know they look elf-ish with their long ears, but they are genetically modified humans. Earth has been destroyed by the humans inhabiting it. I won’t go into too many details as I’m working on a book to explain how this all happened and all those specifics.

Major differences between Lervanians and their human counterparts:

Telepathy: While telepathy doesn’t give Lervanians any real evolutionary advancement, the alien species who created them were telepathic and wanted their creatures to be able to communicate in the same way. This telepathy is limited by distance, cannot be used to span across the planet. The further away you are, the harder it is to reach the person.

Ears: Lervanians have elongated ‘elf-like’ ears. This was done to help adapt them to the forests on Lervana. They have increased hearing ability and the ears also have increased mobility to be able to point them directionally (think like a cat).

Eyes: It’s unknown if their eyes changed due to the aliens giving them telepathy or if it was intentional at all. But unlike human eyes, Lervanian eyes have a base color; unlike them, they react to their emotions. If their eye color is green, there would be a base color of green, and then they would go lighter or darker depending on their emotion. It is considered rude to hide one’s eyes; however, with practice at regulating one’s emotions, one can get better at not having one’s eyes be so reactive.

Skin: Another evolutionary change to help the species survive on their new planet was the modification of their skin to blend in with the forest. Trees on Lervana are typically dark shades of blue, green, or purple to help absorb sunlight. Lervanian skin color typically takes after their trees, ranging from blues to greens to purples, but the shades do not always range on the dark spectrum. Like the trees, this pigmentation also helps the species absorb the needed light, which the species uses to produce essential vitamin D3.

Here is an image of Kaelor as a middle aged adult verses as a young adult:

Image created by the talented Meep!

What is a Lifegiver?

Throwing back to my other post, my world originated from my obsession with telepathic dragons. While I assure you, I still very much love dragons (please, give me all the dragon novel recs!) I remember the day I was sitting at my dentist’s office staring through the huge glass window and into the ivy, plants and trees that grew between the office and the stone wall. And I thought, how cool would it be to have a living tree to fight for you! Keep in mind, this was before the days of the hit Guardians of the Galaxy movie and our dear Groot hit the big screen, and I was never a comic gal in that way, so I had no idea he was a thing before my creation.

But what if I combined this idea with my love of telepathic dragons? So my mind birthed my Lifegivers. They are large, ent-like creatures that are telepathic and bond to Lervanians. A single drop of blood gifted to their Mothertree allowed her to choose who would be the next protectors for their species. No one knows precisely what makes the Mothertree choose who she does, but she creates them a perfect lifemate, a friend, a creature who will help complete their Lervanian partner, a Lifegiver. This is not romantic, but it’s the deepest friendship one can have.

Here is a Lifegiver/Lervanian pair from my original novel, drawn by the always lovely Huskie back in 2009:

And here is a modern redesign along with a velu drawn by OrionArte:

As you can see, there have been some changes, some evolution between the two of them. Their colors have changed a bit, but the general concept is still the same.

If these creatures seem interesting, then you’ll just have to read the books!

January 23rd – Writing Prompt

Prompt directions: 

Use as many of the words as you want: Pear, Sand, Dark, Play, Bird

I should have known better than to trundle out into the dunes alone, but anger makes you stupid. It coursed through me, rushing through my veins like electricity, making it impossible to stay still, impossible to listen to reason.

As the sun crept lower, sending long, haunting shadows across the sand, regret burrowed deeper into my bones. The shadows reached like claws from the twisted brush that barely clung to life, twisting my insides with worry once my anger had fizzled. Worry wasn’t good company. It left me alone in the starlit expanse of darkness with the occasional eerie hoot of a bird I hoped was an owl.

It was all so stupid now. Throwing a fit over the way she had peeled my pear instead of sliced it. Was I a child throwing a petulant tantrum? Could I not be trusted to interact with civilized company? Or at least pretend I didn’t mind, thank her for the fruit and play nice?

No. I definitely couldn’t be trusted. Not that it mattered now as I wandered, hopelessly lost in a world of sand. I only hoped that this would not end with my bones bleaching beneath the harsh summer rays and that someone would care enough to find me. Even if I am an idiot.

November 7th – Writing Prompt

(Prompt was to include any of the following words: Yellow, Branch, Potato, Mountain, Spoon)

I sat, surrounded by the flapping tarp walls of our glorified grow tent, going wild. The sky was angry and yellowed as the reddish granules were kicked into the air in suffocating clouds. Not like it was the clouds that would kill me out there, being there was none of this air stuff my fragile body relied on. With a grumble, I shoved my small spoonful of half-eaten potato into my mouth, mashing the bland substance between my teeth and wishing more than anything that I had some ketchup to slather the thing in. But on Mars, we weren’t growing tomatoes; we were growing potatoes. So I had to suck it up and long for the artificial red-hued sauce that I may never taste again.

What I wouldn’t do for that little zing it would give my tongue. Or the little bit of moisture it would add so that the potato wouldn’t stick like taffy to the back of my throat. I’d even take some salt. Anything to make the damn vegetable more appealing after having eaten it for the last 365 days. While today marked a year of being on this planet, and I had spent the better part of the morning dragging my sorry ass up the side of the mountain—that was more like a glorified hill—that rose up behind our settlement. Planting a flag as if I were Neil fucking Armstrong, because I’ve lasted here an entire Earth year. Not a Martian year. That’d come though, just hopefully not with 322 days more of fucking potatoes.

(Inspired by the Martian, one of my favorite movies)