Lindsey Byrd on magic touches in The Sun Blessed Prince
"Sitting here, in the comfort of my own home, I can confess that the temptation to want the ability to heal anything is certainly there."
Midas’ magic touch is famous in pop culture, but have you imagined what would happen if someone with a healing magic touch meets someone with a killing touch? Lindsey Byrd explores in this in her captivating queer fantasy, The Sun Blessed Prince.
Guest post is written by Lindsey Byrd, author of The Sun Blessed Prince.
I wrote the first versions of The Sun Blessed Prince during the start of Covid in 2020, and within the span of a year I lost my grandfather, great-uncle, and (due to non-Covid related issues) two dogs and a cat. By the time my six-year old dog’s heart was failing due to a previously undetectable tumor, I would have given anything for the chance to just hold him in my arms and make him better.
While I was writing my book, I couldn’t help but find a great deal of comfort in the notion of being able to touch anything and make it better. It’s a thought I think everyone has, naturally, in times of grief. If only you had the ability to make it all right: with a simple touch, the problems would go away.
The notion of a “magic touch” is not new. Midas is one famous example, where everything he touch would turn to gold. The caveat of course being that included food, people, clothing, etc. Rogue from the X-men is another person cursed/blessed with a magic touch. She can steal the life force or powers of anyone she touches for a short period of time, but it makes it so she cannot actually have skin to skin contact with someone without potentially harming them. In The Sun Blessed Prince, my Givers are capable of healing anything they touch, and resurrecting the dead. However, I made another group of magical people to go alongside them: Reapers, who kill anything they touch, and can cause things to rot.
As the author I’m a bit blessed in the sense I have a full “spoiler” filled understanding of how these powers work and why, so I can’t go into too many details here, but balance was what drove this decision first and foremost. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and to my mind: if one could heal anything, then another should be able to destroy anything in equal measure.
Death is, after all, an inevitability. It comes for everything, one way or another. When friendships end, the relationship “dies” between those involved. When the sharp edges of rocks erode away, the rock itself may eventually entirely disappear – losing all that makes it whole and “dying” as it falls apart and becomes something else. For elders who have lived a very long time, death may come as a balm, a gentle passage or transition from this world to whatever comes next. It can be cruel, taking a six-year-old dog who never did anything wrong in its life, but it acts without malice. It simply is.
Sitting here, in the comfort of my own home, I can confess that the temptation to want the ability to heal anything is certainly there. That is a facet of love. But also, what I hope I have conveyed through The Sun Blessed Prince, is that sometimes the inevitability of death is a comfort in its own way. And while it can be of great grief to those who are left behind, it can also be a gateway for the potential of a new phase or component in the life that comes after. While I wouldn’t want either a Giver or Reaper’s abilities for myself, I do think that in this book they can serve as powerful metaphors and as framing devices that may, just a little, help when grief lingers just a little too long.
The Sun Blessed Prince is available on May 1st, you can pre-order a copy here.
