It had been another long day at the Archives, finding very little about anything. Raya had found one book about a conspiracy theory involving the city of Saanazar and the Grey Brethren, a distant religion. She couldn’t even find any conspiracies about Vagren or Ellakar. She almost fell asleep a few hours after their lunch break. Benn had poked her to wake her up, and they’d both laughed about it. Continue reading Raya 25
Lerran enjoyed a morning with Tassina, like usual, but it ended early when the assassin he sent to Lo Mallago returned to the Sheld estate. Tass let him go after a small kiss. And so it was, that once again, Lerran met with Vaenuth just after noon. Though he wore a dark green tunic over beige pants, the strange foreigner wore the same scanty blue vest she had before. It left little to the imagination, but for Lerran, she was not his type. Too many ink lines and images and metal piercings. Her white skin spoke of a southern origin: Orrene or further, despite her supposed career in Numa’nakres a land of a dark ethnicity. It would help her fashion, at least, by changing up her outfits a little more, he decided. Continue reading Lerran 37
There was so much rain that afternoon that the servants had to towel the floors in front of the balcony doors and upstairs windows. Despite it, or perhaps because of it, Yakalaka chose this day to return to Aralim’s mansion. He was doing some stretches—his worn frame often required some attention to get rid of sore muscles and skin kinks—when Ko let the foreign minister of Rema into the foyer along with two of her guards. Continue reading Aralim 29
The sky was overcast and the air was dry, even a day after Vaenuth had arrived back in Sheld. Tagg and she shared a small breakfast at the inn they were staying at, the Rogue River. It was a large building overlooking the cliffs and waterfalls of the river that rushed down from the Radregar highlands. They sat inside, and Vae watched subtle curtains of water droplets form on the glass window nearby and drip down to the window sill. It seemed like the only moisture she had seen outdoors in days. Continue reading Vaenuth 40
Arn woke up groggily and looked at the muddy roof of his hut. He lay in his hammock and tried to remember when he had gone to sleep. He had taken more of the poison, and sat up alarmed—had he gone to sleep because of it? He remembered now, coming out of the fever and deciding, consciously, to sleep off the ache of his body fighting it. Ever since Garem’s visit and his doubled efforts of stealing poison from the hunters’s stores, Arn had begun dosing himself with minimal traces of ashroot poison. He was up to two drips now, instead of one, but it kept him feeling worn out and sore. Continue reading Arn 8
As expected, Yakalaka visited Aralim a week after she had first suggested he steal Rattar’s enchanted knife. He used precisely the same excuse that the Grand Mage had suggested, that he was planning an elaborate heist, and she went on her way once more. Miresh continued her studies, and spent her days at home playing cards with Naeen or sketching on a proper sketchbook that Rattar had bought her. Continue reading Aralim 28
The salty air of Raider’s Bay never got old. There was something in it that stirred Farek up inside, made him feel like the namesake invader with his hands on the prow of a ship. Of course, there had never been a battle at sea here. The water was red because of its mineral content. Continue reading Farek 5
Raya sneezed. There was too much dust to help it. She held her fingers over her nostrils and ruffled pages with her hand as she shook with a heavy sneeze. “Sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed, as Benn stifled a chuckle. The books they were looking through were moth-eaten and dusty, the library’s atmosphere was dry and seemed foggy with the dust and dirt disturbed by the comings and goings of studious bookkeepers, business people, and scholars young and old. Continue reading Raya 24
The skies over Razaad had slowly rotted into grey and black. Even some days were as dim as the evening. It was not rain, or thunder, nor any sort of storm. Grey flakes fell once, close to the end of the last Moon. Grey wind dried their rooftops and the tall reeds of the swamps and streams. Grey blocked the sun and grey reflected the water. What had happened across the Deep, to smite the heavens and turn them ashen? Continue reading Arn 7
It was dreary all morning, and Lerran sipped the remnants of his coffee from a large mug at his desk as it pattered against his glass windows. Tass had kept him company for a while, but had been called away to oversee some workers that were repairing the grounds. While Aunt Mara had handled a lot of the estate management under Gharo’s leadership, Lerran had delegated a lot of that to his wife as she eagerly embraced her role as wife of the Prince of Sheld. Old Mara didn’t mind—she spent her days reading in her small library room and reviewing some of the lengthier documents that came to Lerran’s attention. Continue reading Lerran 36