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Excerpt from MING: The Ming Realities Book One


It was a beautiful morning on my home world of Telet. I begged my mother to let me go out into the gardens to play. I could feel the winds of change swirling, rippling through the sunbaked air: winds full of time slipping forward, melting the landscape, urging me toward doors that opened enticingly into futures filled with sparkling delights.


I wondered whether my secret friend would pay me a visit, but I wasn’t counting on it. I was still timid, although ever since I’d given him a name he didn’t seem quite so astonishing.


Listening to my brother talk about his lessons over breakfast, I’d learned the meaning of a paradox: something that is impossible and yet undeniably true. Even at age three, I realized that was exactly the word I needed to describe my new companion.


He was there, of course, waiting among the fire flowers. The breeze that always accompanies him fanned the sweetly scented flames, causing the blossoms to nod and sway, beckoning me to join them in their beguiling dance.


Existing in the fourth dimension means that Paradox can think himself into any moment in time, without having to wait for it to happen. I didn’t understand that then, but I could understand his desire to bask in the delicious aroma of burnt sugar incense rising into the brilliant blue sky.


Leading me to the terrace, he showed me the bird: the tiny t’kesek that had flown directly into the clear doors, breaking its wing. I lifted the delicate little thing and cradled it in my small hands.


“Touch the wing,” Paradox said. “You can fix it.”




“You can take the wound away, into yourself. Go on. It will only hurt a little.”


“How do you know?”


“Trust me, Ming.”


And so I learned that I am a healer. I can cure any illness with the touch of my hand, read the thoughts of others, and send objects flying through the air with my mind. While these transcendent abilities are certainly a blessing, there are times when I can’t help wishing them away. Mortal healing can be a harsh and painful burden, and I still have a lot to learn.


Paradox always tells me not to worry. He says I’ll have countless chances to make the most of my powers. There are plenty of realities waiting for me that will offer opportunities to succeed. But how can I know what this one holds?


What if, this time, I fail?


If I ask Paradox, he’ll tell me to wait ... and see.