Death Touch Final Version Preview

 Hello, readers! I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately! Life got in the way for a very long time, but I am still working on the final draft of Death Touch! I'm not going to post every single chapter again but, I wanted to give y'all a chance to compare the polished of the version of this story that will eventually be released in book form to the version that we've enjoyed together on this site with one more look at the first chapter. You can find the previous version of this chapter here and check out the rest of the story from there! Information about the release of the finally complete story will be coming soon!

Chapter 1

Sara

What a dreary place! Sara Marle was never one to complain that anything in her life was uninteresting, but there was no other word for the village of Palon. This quiet hamlet had only been standing for twenty years when she found herself there for the first time, strolling to the top of a grassy hill within its local park. Beyond this grove of peculiar white trees with orange leaves atop a seemingly endless expanse of rolling hills, there was very little to see. Less than two dozen houses, four ships, an inn and an infirmary were all one had to mark the reach of civilization into this corner of Southern Resta. 

Palon was no place for children and families, to be sure. Most of the people Sara met during her recent visit to the local inn claimed to be adventurers who would challenge the nearby Lightning Ridge. The spellwarriors of Hem Academy once claimed this jagged valley of wild growth and even wilder creatures as a training ground until they were forced to abandon their facilities to the elements. This had led to a plethora of adventurers setting up camp in Palon, hoping for the slightest glance at the inscriptions left behind the Hem Order in its abandoned ruins. One could encounter the small crowd of hardened travelers and conclude that supporting their work was the entire purpose of Palon’s existence. 

But for Sara, it was only a stop on her way home. Just days ago, she had faced the first test of her life as an acolyte of the Blackstone Order. As a priestess, she had only recently begun to practice speaking with the gods, but no amount of hours spent drilling their language into her mind had prepared her for the confusion that followed when she heard the verse of her goddess, Lady Serenity for the first time. She hadn’t expected to completely understand her words during their first conversation but, for the life of her, she couldn’t help suspecting that what she had been struggling to make sense of had been an especially dire warning. 

While this seemed too urgent to discard as the impressions of an undisciplined mind, the mere suggestion of the Goddess of Tranquility uttering words of danger to an acolyte and not the more-experienced clergy members was more than impossible to accept. It had actually caused her to be imprisoned in her quarters for a week as the others desperately hoped for either clarification of Serenity’s will or confirmation of Sara’s misunderstanding. Finally, it was decided that she must leave the Blackstone Monastery, which she called home, and meditate on her interpretation of the divine independently. 

This is how Sara found herself traveling west. From Palon, she would be home in Beldor after another another two days of walking north. But, as the sun began to crest over the mountains to the west of the village, it was decided that this was the place where she would rest for the night. The sky’s fading golden light glistened through her silken auburn hair as she wandered up a narrow path toward the top of a particularly steep hill. She was fascinated by the massive white tree that was nestled on its pinnacle. As she approached, she would brush her fingers against the clusters of orange leaves which hung from its bleached branches as she recalled its name: Whitebark’s Promise. 

She breathed a sigh of reverence as she passed under the tree’s extraordinary canopy and pressed her palm to the smooth bark of its trunk. The air here wafted with a pleasant, minty aroma that brought back memories of drinking tea back in the gardens of the monastery. Through her study in the Serene faith, she knew that such calming places were nearly always meaningful. As she groped this rare arboreal specimen, she quickly felt the sensations she expected to. Her pulse slowed, her mind began to float with euphoria and her breathing became easier. She nodded to herself, thinking, This seems like a good place to meditate before retiring to the inn.

So, she straightened the hem of her dark green travel robes before and sat, cross-legged, at the base of the tree. She then inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, leaning back very slowly. When her head came to rest against the bark, she released her breath. Choosing to contemplate the stillness of the land around her, it was easy to lull herself into the trance she sought. No predators, evil presences, or adverse weather remained to worry her. In this place, she was free from danger and could, just for now, lose herself in feelings of peace. In this blissful solitude, she then prayed to feel the loving peace that was Lady Serenity’s gift. 

The trance came for her quickly, as was characteristic of her particular efforts to commune with the divine. While anyone could theoretically do this, no one could slip into this state more easily than her. It was this gift which guided her to the Serene faith and, at the age of 21, she had already accomplished what had taken her elders twice her lifetime. She would hear frequently that the spiritual connection she had formed with the sacred realm of Fadal had grown to the point in which could actually hear Serenity’s voice a decade too soon. 

In this meditative state, Sara thought not of this, but of the mystery that had unfolded at what was once her sanctuary. She had long since gotten used to hearing disjoined words that held no particular meaning, figuring that meaning would come with more experience. But what chilled her was the one phrase she had been able to make out: “...lulled into complacency…”

Up to that point no one had any difficulty believing that Sara could hear the goddess’ gentle voice, but the possible implications of those words had soon caused a rift among the Monastery’s Serene sect. Some agreed that they were intended as a warning but far too many people instead viewed these words as proof that Sara must have lied about hearing Serenity’s voice at all. The more they debated, though, the more certain she became that there was something in those words. 

The Serene Church is in trouble, she had determined. For centuries, those of her faith had paid tribute to a goddess they always believed would shelter them from the dangers of this world with her own power. But if she were threatened, what use would her acolytes be to her if they had never known anything but perfect tranquility? When the goddess spoke, Sara could sense the desperation in her voice. There was something to this the others weren’t seeing, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. 

When she first put her home of seven years behind her, she had planned to travel further north to the capitol after a respite in Beldor. It was there she had hoped to consult with the leaders of her faith to make sense of the warning she was sure she had received. But time was clearly against her, given how her elders had reacted to her warnings and the means with which information could flash between the various temples of the kingdom. 

So, Sara found herself in desperate need of the sort of guidance that had failed her for the first time. Without mentors to rely on, all she had left was praye, so she beseeched Serenity for clarification with no clue what to expect in return. Every time she went into a trance, she could feel the words becoming clearer, but her blood soon turned to ice with the eventual realization that she could hear nothing now. 

Fearing that she had made a mistake, the idea that she may have been excommunicated for disrupting the harmony of her former sanctuary began to play on her mind. The fear nearly brought her out of her trance entirely, but she soon felt as if a long pair of gentle arms had closed around her shoulders. As her thundering heart began to settle once more, it was immediately clear to the young acolyte what was happening. Though she couldn’t find the words to describe the sensation, it filled her with a certainty that Serenity was with her. Freed from her anxieties by this comforting embrace, the burning questions that had plagued her for the past few days raced through her mind. 

To Sara’s surprise, she soon heard Serenity’s voice once more. To compound her shock, the goddess spoke in a clear voice. 

“Sara Marle, I knew you would understand.”

Sara’s heart skipped as she took in this complete sentence. The Lady’s words didn’t yet convey any real meaning, but they confirmed the acolyte’s suspicions. She let out a deep sigh in her effort to control the growing elation which threatened her trance. To hear a deity’s voice as clearly as she had was unheard of and she didn’t want to lose that feeling soon. Her focus was further threatened with the chill wind that had rustled the leaves above her come dusk, despite the impenetrable warmth that now surrounded her. Despite this, she managed to put together a reply.

“My lady! I am honored by the sound of your voice!”the young cleric declared, for lack of anything better to say. 

“Be at peace, my child,” the goddess replied warmly. “My people and yours alike live in troubled times, but you are safe for the moment.”

These words, meant to soothe, tore away the veil of confusion that had encompassed Sara’s initial attempt at divine communion. The implication that the gods were in trouble might have caused her to gasp if she could even find the fear that she should be feeling. So powerful was Serenity’s calming aura that she might have just been told that nothing had been wrong at all. But Sara couldn’t afford to lose herself in her calm, as that was the mistake that her detractors at the monastery seemed to be making. She wondered to herself, Why is she telling me this?

As if sensing this inquiry, the goddess would add, “For you see, my daughter has once again escaped our world to haunt yours once more. 

This time, Sara was unable to quell her gasp. Serenity could only be talking about Maula, the Goddess of Death. Recollections of her history came quickly to Sara, for every deity was the subject of an acolyte’s studies. Born to Serenity and Chaos, the God of War, Maula was a potential heir of Fadal. The last time she descended upon the world of Comalan was over two-hundred years ago, when it was said that Maula had rebelled against the elder gods by crushing the land of Resta under a wave of death, hence her moniker as the Goddess of Death. 

A majority of the population had suffered Maula’s wrath and all would have been lost if not for four legendary champions. Nicholai Desmond, the chosen champion of Chaos, joined forces with Helen Winstrom, the champion of Serenity. They were later joined by Artix Maloran, then the crown prince of the kingdom and Orion, the queen of the elven nation of Tanis. Together, the four had devised some sort of weapon that had driven Maula back to Fadal, where only deities and the souls of the dead may roam. 

Founded in the wake of a deadly plague that once devastated the lost nations of Necros and Coronos, Resta had seen its fair share of catastrophe but the Wave of Death was the most deadly by far. This fact sealed the legend of the Champions as a central figure in the kingdom’s history. 

If she is truly back, Sara thought to herself, surely she could only have grown more powerful in the last two centuries. Many more people could die this time!

Sensing the terror that had crept into Sara’s heart, Serenity continued soothingly, “It will be alright, Sara. Mortalkind have always surprised us! When the champions who came before banished Maula, they foresaw her return. The left behind their secrets so that others could take up the cause of banishing her once more when they were gone. I beseech you to gather the courage to be one of those who defend mortals for a second time!”

Sara initially relaxed under the belief that a plan was already in place to deal with the looming threat. But to think that she might be a participant brought back the chill in her blood. Could I really continue the work of such strong warriors?

“I once believed that Helen’s grace and determination were without equal, but I have watched over you for seven years. When first you knelt before one of my altars, I sensed something familiar,” Serenity explained in a hasty attempt to mollify the nervous woman. “Not since Helen’s death have I seen such sincere devotion. When you pledged yourself to the Doctrine of Tranquility, despite many urgings to the contrary, I felt certain that I had found what I am looking for, so I nurtured you on your path. I sense a potential equal to Helen in you!”

Sara was torn with conflict. She could not bring herself to believe what she heard about herself, despite her firm conviction that Serenity couldn’t possibly be wrong about her acolytes. To be the equal of someone so brave and strong? Impossible!

Sensing Sara’s unspoken objection, Serenity seemed to laugh. “My dear, when have I ever prized martial strength? Your historians may have made it a point to remember that Helen was a formidable warrior, but that is not what I asked of her, nor will I ask it of you.”

Desperately wishing that Serenity would reconsider, Sara could only reply, “I’m really not so special. It won’t be simple to banish a deity with devotion to you alone!”

“You are not the one who will banish her,” the goddess declared flatly. “What I ask of you instead is to keep the peace. When Maulas designs are set in motion, many will suffer. I would ask that you convince those who remain that we have not forsaken them. You must heal their wounds, ease their burdens, and protect them from despair.”

With Serenity’s desires fully clarified, Sara began to feel better about what was being asked of her. To fight on Serenity’s behalf was something best asked of a templar, but healing the hearts and bodies of those in need was something she had actually trained for. This left just one obvious question. If I am not to banish Lady Maula, who is?

“You will be aided in your quest by others chosen by my family,” Serenity explained matter-of-factly. “Two of them are close, but you may not see the last for some time.”

This changes things, Sara thought immediately upon hearing this response. Although reconnecting with her sisters and brothers in the faith to share this new information remained vital, it was clear that she had to find the other two champions in town before she left. 

“Thank you, my lady,” she said with a smile to herself. “I think I know what must be done now.”

With that, the heavy sensation of tranquility that followed her trance had begun to dissipate following Serenity’s final reply, “Trust me, trust your comrades, and trust yourself.”

Sara then found herself alone once more, uncomfortably aware of the early evening chill that hung over the hills. She stood up once more, shaking the numbness out of her legs. She had planned to return to her room at the inn much sooner, but had lost track of the time. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet with some difficulty due to her left leg, which had fallen asleep after remaining stationary for so long. Between the numbness in her foot, and a sudden gust of wind which nearly lifted her of the ground, she would stumble on her descent from the hill and tumble all the way to the bottom. 

As she lay there on the ground with a throbbing pain in every part of her body that could feel pain, she cursed her own luck. The first steps of my journey, she thought sourly before she passed out, inwardly thankful that there had been nothing on the hill for her body to hit besides tall grass.

Further into the foothills, a tall man with short red hair and a young woman with braided raven-colored hair had noticed Sara’s fall and rushed to help.

The Skysworn

By the light of the kilg, Comalan's sun, there is a cabal of warriors who swear to uphold the values of Tanis' Serene culture. Based in Fort Kieransgard, the elves of the Skysworn are a counterpart to Resta's templars, differing primarily in their solitary focus on Doctrines of Serenity. All Serene Doctrines are represented, namely Tranquility, Love, Dreams and-- to a much lesser extent-- Shadows. Those who join the Skysworn are taught to live by a particular ideal; all life in Tanis is to be protected. This informs various responsibilities including nature conservation, hunting for casters of dark magic native to the Bog of Anguish, offering safe harbor to Restan and Galean pilgrims, and collaborating with rangers to protect the land from their Heronite enemies.

This order owes its origins to a Restan templar by the name of Kieran Hawke, who once saved Tanis while escorting a group of pilgrims from his monastery in the year 2E87. He was unaware of the dangers of the Bog of Anguish, and so attempted to lead his people through it to Boggarde so that they may pay homage at a Serene temple there. This might have ended in the death or corruption of his entire group if not for a chance encounter with a ranger from Medear named Nalan. It was she who led the Templars safely through the bog, skirting known locations of sinister magical activity. Upon reaching their destination, Kieran bestowed a gift of prayer beads engraved with the markings of the Shadow Doctrine. Nalan initially rejected this gift for its association with Chaos, but a long and respectful discussion ultimately convinced her that the Shadow Doctrine was just as much a part of Serenity's wisdom as it was the war god's.

With the acolytes' charge to pray at the Boggarde temple completed, Kieran would thank his new elven friend once more before setting off toward Medear on a journey that would lead them back to Resta. Along the way, they would encounter an army of demons that bog witches had been cultivating in secret for over three decades. Although the rangers expected him to escape in order to protect his charges, Kieran led the acolytes to join the rangers in defense of Boggarde. While many acolytes would distinguish themselves as strong candidates for priesthood and knighthood in the ensuing battle, Kieran alone suffered a mortal wound from the horn of a crazed fever morph that took the form of a human-bull hybrid.

Understanding that this wound would finish him, Kieran surrendered his body to the gods for a powerful blast of divine energy that eradicated the remaining demons and rent a massive hole in the forest canopy. Elves who studied this miracle would find traces of Serenity in its aftermath as it opened up the sky not by harming the treeline above, but shoving thee branches aside. This exposed part of the Bog of Anguish to the sky for the first time and inspired many rangers to declare the site of this battle holy land. They would build a tower in this spot that reached beyond the treeline and swore to honor their newfound hero by adopting some virtues of his order. The Blackstone Order would send a commendation to the garrison of this new tower fifty years later, declaring them the Skysworn, Tanisian allies of the Blackstone Order. Nalan accepted this honor as the Skysworn's first Grand Master, pledging to uphold the honor that Kieran Hawke showed as a templar.

It Comes for Those Who Don't Run Part 16

Back to the Beginning

Previous

Aennin's day of drinking with Katim and Landah was a fateful one in that it seemed to start a tradition. From that point on, Aennin would be compelled to sit down at the bar for a round of flux whiskey whenever there was no work for him to do. This soon became a nearly weekly occurrence with mixed results. Even on the worst days, it was hard to complain because he was paid for his time and didn't need to do much besides stay conscious-- which was immediately paid into his family's debt. As he considered this during a particularly raucous occasion two months later, he thought to ask how much he and his sister still owed them.

Katim shrugged moodily. The flux wine had not been strong with him that day. "I don't carry the damned bill around with me! I only see on it pay days when I'm striking your month's pay from it."

Aennin frowned and slapped his glass on the table, which Landah quickly refilled. "I feel like I should know this information! Where do you keep the bill?"

Katim took a deep gulp straight from the bottle. "Gods damn! Why do we still drink this stuff? I'm not going to get it right now and you're not going into my office. If you want to know, ask your sister. She pesters me about it every month, so I can't imagine anyone more likely to remember your debt than her."

"It's about time for her shift," Landah slurred lazily. "You could-- you should go ask her now and check.. check on her. See if she's gonna be here."

"She'd better be," Katim growled before smashing the bottle behind the bar. "I'm not paying her to leave us high and dry in the week before Tey Bola ul Handeen. There are going to be hundreds of people pouring in! I might have to stick an apron to you two and put you both to work as well!"

"This one'd look good in the serving uniform," Landah said as he threw an arm around Aennin and pulled him in. "Imagine how much we could make with a red-haired version of Kana!"

Aennin ducked under Landah's arm and shot him a venemous glare while Katim said, "Those legs are for running, not for showing, you idiot!" Turning to Aennin, he added, "You seem to be doing better than this drunken lech right now. Maybe you could put those legs to work right now and get your sister. The first wave of celebrants will start pouring in any minute!"

"All I'm saying is if we're going to pay him to get drunk here, he may as well be making us money!" Landah protested. 

Whatever was said after that, Aennin didn't wait to hear. He darted out of the bar before Landah could start sizing him up for a skirt and jogged home as quickly as his drink-addled body could carry him. He took a shortcut he had discovered over months of repeating this route in order to avoid any nosy guards. He stumbled into the house to find Kana sitting on his mother's old armchair with a stony expression on her face.

"Have fun?" she said waspishly.

"Another day, another handful of gold," Aennin said weakly as he fell into the sofa.

"I'm not sure being drinking buddies with our mom's killer is what I'd call work," Kana hissed with hardly concealed contempt.

"Nor is getting your ass pinched by his customers," Aennin said a little hotly. "But we do what we must to get him off our case. How much do we still owe, anyway?"

"Nine hundred and fifty seven promises as of yesterday," Kana said with her face contorted in anger. "How much are you getting paid to drink with Katim and Landah?"

"Five a day," Aennin replied with a sigh. "Half what I make for each delivery. Fair, considering I don't actually do any work when I'm there."

"I wouldn't socialize with those two for ten times that much!" Kana snapped.

"It's not like I have a choice! We agreed that we'd do whatever they want until they wipe our debt," Aennin shot back. "Don't judge me for having a few drinks! I'm lucky they don't make me shuffle around the pub, serving drinks in the same uniform you wear! And considering what I just went through, I do mean that literally! Talk about something they couldn't pay me to do!"

"Yes, it's humiliating, but how do you think that makes me feel?" Kana shouted as she jumped out of the chair. "I'm angry every damned day! And I use that to motivate me to actually pay this damn debt and put this behind me! How are you supposed to do that if you become friends with these monsters?

"I'M NOT THEIR FRIEND!" Aennin roared, kicking the sofa over in a rage as he jumped to his feet as well. "I'm not getting close to Katim because I admire him, I'm doing it because I want him DEAD!"

Kana let out a gasp of shock. "You're not... planning to kill him, are you?"

Realizing his mistake, he shook his head. "No! I just--"

"I need to go to work," Kana said as she grabbed her apron from the coat rack and hurried to the door. "Whatever you're doing, forget about it! We never talked about this!"

Kana slammed the door in her haste to get away, leaving Aennin alone to contemplate what had just happened. Of course he wasn't going to kill Katim, he was waiting for Maula to do it! She wanted him to learn something from his employer, but the fact that Katim still drew breath meant he still had yet to learn it. He began to wonder if he was wasting his time by spending it in the way he had and what it would take to see his tormentor dead.

The Robber Was Slain

To Grand Master Blackstone:

As ordered, I have dispatched twenty of my knights to Seres in pursuit of the fiendish witch referred to as Annette Skye. I shamefully admit to my skepticism that it was necessary to send so many and am humbled to report that of the twenty men and women I have sent, only one has returned. There is solace in the report of the lone templar to return from this mission, which is that not all of them were killed in the attempt to apprehend their foe. It seems that the many months of practice we have allowed the Robber in Robes have caused her power to grow to the point of corrupting even some of the most devout men under my command. Per your instructions, I hereby relay the report of the knight, Sir Reginald Hawke, who shall be commended for his exemplary work in the Gods' names in accordance with the Southriver Charter.

The company reached Seres little over an hour past the dawn of the second day which followed their dispatch. Their leader, Knight-Commander Gerald Marle ordered a stay of our customary purge protocol out of misguided concern for innocent civilians. There was some disagreement from another Knight-Commander in the unit, one Elizabeth Winstrom. She felt compelled to remind her colleague of the dangers of dark magic as well as the very necessity of the purge protocol. For the record, I must express that the ensuing discord was quite understandable for it is unclear which idea is more entrenched in our order: the sanctity of Crane's holy city or the absolute prejudice with which we must handle dark magic. An accord was reached on the premise that to purge a holy city required acknowledging that the gods could not protect their most favored settlements, which would be a stain on the honor of us all. However, this dispute was all that was needed to alert the witch to their presence; a sad punishment for their sin of imprudence near the seat of Crane.

Sir Hawke was the knight who was dispatched to gather information on Madam Skye's whereabouts. It was only through this miracle of happenstance that he happened to be separated from the group when the Robber in Robes saw fit to ambush them. Upon returning with knowledge of the heretic's location, he arrived just in time to witness what transpired. Before Hawke could intervene, the witch used her dark magic to corrupt Knight-Commander Marle with an uncontrollable lust for her, which she exploited to manipulate him into turning his blade on his own men. Sirs Ronald and Bartholomew Whitetree, Sebas Gold, and Lady Martha Desmond were all felled in the initial attack. In the heat of the moment, Knight-Commander Winstrom struck down Marle before he could harm anyone else. Unfortunately, it was she who was selected as the next victim of the witch's magic. She was afflicted with a powerful rage and unable to stop herself from striking Sirs Harold Midas, Grant Harret and Ladies Reina Midas, Victoria Whitetree, and Gloria Desmond with this unnatural wrath. It took the combined efforts of Sir Matthew Blackstone and Lady Pomona Clark to defeat the second Knight-Commander, but they both sustained mortal wounds in the process. In a fit of desperation, Lady Rosaline Gold tried to finish off the witch only for the latter to afflict all five of those who remained in the room at once with an unholy tide of magic. 

Screaming her disappointment at this embarrassing failure on their part, she left each of them groveling pitifully for the touch of her flesh. This included Sirs Anthony Winstrom, Red Desmond, Wendell Clark, and Ladies Clara Gold, and Emily Clark. Sir Hawke, who remained unseen up to this point managed to strike the witch down unawares with a blow to the back of her head with his mace. He then rushed to check on the survivors, but their corruption was sadly so complete that they could do little more than flee at the sight of him. He enlisted the help of the Town Guard to apprehend these corrupted templars and deliver them into the Grand Temple of Crane where they are currently being treated. The body of the witch was also taken by the clerics of the temple, citing a desire to study any trace of residual dark magic in hopes of developing an effective countermeasure into the future.

The only thing that troubles me more than the tragic loss of fourteen of my greatest knights is the result of Hawke's search of the witch's home. There he found a second set of bedding, but no clue in regards to who had previously used it. I have dispatched more men to watch the house in secret in hopes of spotting this potential accomplice, but no one has been seen going in or out all week. While we do not intend to leave Seres without a templar presence in the near future until we discover who was staying with Madam Skye, the fact remains that the Robber in Robes is no more. Thus, I am happy to declare the Gods' will has been carried out on this twelfth day of Serda in the thirty-first year of the post-war age.

With Both Pride and Regret,

General-Commander

William Skye

I Know What You Did

Dear Mother,

You must be surprised that I have chosen to write to you. The truth is that, despite everything, I am not sure why I am even bothering to do so. It may be true that I accepted all of your lies when last we spoke, but surely there must have been a reason you asked me to write you only in times of desperation. Perhaps this is a desperate letter. I cannot truly hope to accomplish anything by writing to you, but the smallest part of me wishes for any of what I have learned about you to be falsified. I hope that the irreparable damage you have done to our family, and now Auntie Deidre's, was the worst of your crimes. But, as I understand things now, this may be hope against hope.

You see, I have heard rumors that seemed to follow you back west. Stories of lives ruined by violence and base depravity that defy explanation. People have started to change in this land and the most damning thread to connect each of these events is the fact that they all began after you left. Once I began to consider this fact, which should be little more than coincidence in a fairer world, what happened to us began to make more sense. You told me you had to leave because father was unfaithful to you. I didn't want to believe what I heard, knowing what I did about the good man I knew my father to be. From the lips of anyone else, I wouldn't have. I now suspect there may have been some truth to that. Father has brought many women to his bed since you left while professing attachment to none of them. What one could interpret as the acts of a philanderer who was liberated by the revelation of his true self seemed oddly similar to these haunting tales from across the country. Such a condition seems to be an isolated case in the capitol, but placing him at the fore of the list of the warlock bandit's crimes works a little too well.

Of course, this is a purely circumstantial claim, so I had to find out more. Thus I decided to look through that trunk you left behind. You did well to hide it considering what was inside, but you did not do well at hiding it. I discovered all of the notes you had collected as well as the documentation of your earliest experiments. There is an entire book's worth of secrets about "dark magic" here! I am horrified to now know what this is and you should be ashamed of the interest you took in it. You can't just meddle with the Gods' designs however you please and expect there to be no consequences! We were all made to perfectly suit their needs and what you have been doing perverts their goals. I cannot look the other way!

That is why you will no doubt be seeing knights of the Blackstone Order soon. In fact, another reason I am sure the writing of this letter is futile is that I am writing it after I have made them aware of your malicious deeds. Thus, you may never find this letter. On the off chance you do, however, I want you to know that I am ashamed to call you my mother. To me, you are now only Annette, the Robber in Robes. It is with some hope that I expect the clergy can undo what you have inflicted on Father and all of your other victims. But for me, things can never go back to normal because I can't stand the idea of ever seeing you again. If you come near Father, Ronald, or me again, I will not hesitate to summon the templars again. May you burn in the Forge for this!

With regret,

Cecilia Skye

Death Touch Chapter 35 (But Better)

Introducing Chapter 35 of Death Touch, now with a better ending in which the point of view character actually does stuff! The original version will remain up for posterity, but it's no longer canon.

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Mia

Frustration pounded in Mia’s head as she felt herself awaken at the sound of someone brushing through foliage. She rolled groggily onto her back as she tried to make sense of her position. She saw that the sun was low on the horizon and cursed herself for her mistake. Then she cursed Sara with double the anger for falling for her own tricks. A whole day, lost!

The rustling among the flowers grew louder, stirring her ever closer to full alertness. She turned to see what appeared to be five large men with thick coal black skin towering above her. Seeing the three horns and spiked tail were enough for the assassin to identify these creatures according to Sara’s prior description. Maulans!

Her drowsiness quickly forgotten, Mia willed herself to her feet as quickly as her momentarily numb body would allow her and looked around wildly for her unlikely companion. Sara didn’t seem to be in the vicinity. In fact, Mia didn’t appear to be anywhere close to the pond that had been nearby when she fell asleep. She staggered backwards while considering running. She should have whipped out her gun and started firing into their necks-- the creature’s only known weak point. But while caught in the grip of this valley’s pacifying magic, fighting back didn’t even occur to her.

Mia watched as the maulans flicked their tails dangerously, daring her to stand still so they could strike. She felt helpless as she began to back away more quickly. The maulans should have been rendered harmless by the fey as well, but it was starting to look like they weren’t even affected at all. Run, damn it! 

Mia finally shocked herself into turning around and running more quickly than she ever had before, realizing as she did just how unusual it was for her to be running away from something. She had only done so for the first time in years a few short days ago when she had to escape from her cell in Beldor. But this was the first time she felt genuinely terrified. Spellwarriors chasing her through open streets could never have hoped to catch her, but this was much different. The flowers in her way slowed her down, but the creatures who pursued her streaked rather quickly through the field by following in her wake. I’m not fast enough!

She was at a loss. They were close to catching up and didn’t appear to be tiring in the slightest. She was alone and unable to fight back. Her only hope was to clear Flora Field and make her stand outside the confines of this damnable pacification. But there was no telling how far she would have to run. She dared not look up to figure out which way she was going, fearful of slowing down or--

She then tripped over an exposed root to one of the field’s larger, tree-like flowers. She cursed as she scrambled to her feet in a panic, but the chase was over before she could begin to run again. They were already whipping their tails at her. Years of evasion practice was all that protected her now. Or so it seemed.

Mia’s heart felt like it was about to explode as her panic reached a fever pitch. But just then, a strong gust began to sweep the surrounding plant-life away. The ensuing wind caused the maulan’s tails to flail around slightly, causing their tail jabs to miss even more wildly than before. Although, a more logical Mia would have recognized this as a sign of good luck, the gust only intensified her alarm. What the hell now?

As the wind intensified with the assassin’s fear, she could see the creatures struggling to maintain their footing. It was at this point that Mia realized what was happening to her. More storm magic that she’d have to learn to control.

Mia began to laugh as the first of the maulans was pulled toward the tornado small that now circled the ground before her. “I should find myself a phobia!”

Soon, all five of the creatures were drawn into the vortex, but curiously the champion was unaffected by the wind. This didn’t make her completely safe, however, as she learned when they began to whip their tails out at her as she passed. These bastards are persistent!

Mia watched her pursuers as her apparent magic tossed them around for several minutes. She might have used this time to plan her next move if she weren’t taking so much satisfaction in the spectacle before her. Unfortunately, her returning calm began to slow down the wind. She was close to running again when something else she didn’t expect happened. Clusters of thorned roots exploded from the ground and began to ensnare the maulans. All 20 limbs, 15 horns and 5 torsos and tails were bound in stems. Okay, why not?

“I must not have made myself clear the last time!” A familiar voice called out from behind.

Mia turned to see Millie the fey spellwarrior, stomping up to the cluster of wrapped maulans with a livid expression.

“I told at least two of you that maulans are not welcome here!” She raged as she held her hands up in what Mia assumed was some sort of spellweaving gesture. “This is supposed to be a safe space of communion for mortals and fey, but your kind never follow the fucking rules!”

Mia finally found herself starting to like the floral sprite as she walked right up to the struggling beasts. With a swipe of her arm, all five of the maulans instantly disappeared and the roots that held them began to sink back into the ground. Mia whistled as the spellwarrior turned back to her with a smirk.

“What did you do?”

Millie smiled and glanced somewhere to the east. “A quick targeted translocation. They won’t be back for a loooong time!”

“Where are they?” Mia asked, duly impressed with what she was hearing.

“On the ocean floor, hundreds of miles away from our coast.”

Mia snickered and shook her head. “Well, thanks for the assist and… uh…” She began to survey the carnage that had stricken the plants around them. “Sorry for the tornado. I didn’t know I could do that.”

Millie gave the champion an appraising look and chuckled. “Really? An instinctive user of storm magic sounds very uncommon. In fact, since I don’t know anybody who’s heard of one, I’d even be willing to call you unique."

Mia shrugged and nodded awkwardly. “Well, for some reason, Salica thinks I need to be able to do that. She’s shown a lot more faith in me than I deserve.”

“Interesting!” the spellwarrior chirped with an inquisitive stare. “You know, Hem Academy put out the word that we were all to assist some people favored by the Gods as champions. My plan was to put the safety of my home first, but if you’re to be believed, I may have followed that order by accident!”

Mia shook her head impatiently. “This is too weird for me. Two days ago, I was no friend to any spellwarrior, but now you people are all over my business!”

Millie shook her head and chuckled. “Actually, two days ago, you were still asleep.”

“What?!” Mia barked suddenly. “How long have I been out?”

“Almost a week,” the spellwarrior said with a shrug.

“A week?!” Mia screeched in renewed alarm. “If you knew, why didn’t you try to wake us up?”

“Should I have?” the spellwarrior asked indifferently. “Lots of people meet with members of the Serene clergy to have themselves put to sleep here. For all I knew you were both suffering from nightmare-induced insomnia!”

“Wait! What about my--” the next word got stuck in her throat for a moment. “--friend?”

“The woman who put you to sleep carried her out of the valley, somewhere to the north.”

“And you didn’t think that there was anything wrong with two women you knew were looking for one of Maula’s cronies being knocked out and separated?”

“Yeah, I might have been a little distracted in my duties,” Millie replied with a frown. “I may as well redeem myself by helping you find your friend, since I’m supposed to be protecting you anyway.”

Just like that, Mia started to dislike Millie again.

“If you know which way they might have gone, just tell me,” the champion grumbled. “If they’re outside this field, there’s absolutely no reason I can’t save her on my own.”

Millie shook her head. “Unfortunately, I don’t. Unless you have some experience in tracking, you’re going to need my help and I’m happy to give it!”

Mia sighed and growled, “Fine, but you’d better not be wasting my time!”

“I’m hurt!” Millie whined. “I haven’t given you no reason to suspect I’m not good at my job, have I? How was I know that I’d need to protect anyone from a mortal here?”

Mia glared at the spellwarrior. “Save the excuses! I’m not really in the mood! If you want to help, now would be a good time to get started!”

“Oh fine!” the sprite said as she reached into the cleavage of her dress. 

Moments later, she withdrew one of those tiny, curved cones that Mia recalled were used by spellwarriors to summon their mounts. She blew into the narrow end, but no sound came out. Mia watched as flowers in the distance began to rustle.

“C’mere, Vinca!”

In response, a large wolf with a beautiful mane of white hair flecked with green bounded gracefully into the clearing that Mia had made. The beast seemed to float as she galloped to the spellwarrior and began to nuzzle her affectionately.

“Come on, girl!” Millie said, giggling madly. “I just saw you a few minutes ago! Stop!”

Mia watched impatiently as she struggled to get the enthusiastic wolf under control. When she was finally atop Vinca’s back, she offered a hand to the champion. Mia swallowed her chagrin and climbed aboard and took a seat behind the spellwarrior.

“Hang on!” Millie shouted excitedly.

With the help of the spellwarrior’s lupine companion, it only took an hour to find where Sara had been dragged: a small cavern that Millie had referred to as Resbroka Grotto. Mia felt a surge of excitement as the predatory urges that she had become so used to returned to her. Together, she and Millie dismounted and were just about to enter the cave when a boy approached them from behind and called out to then.

“Sen na sai crana eka grag Maula,” he said with a smile.

Mia narrowed her eyes as she studied the boy who had come to follow her. He appeared to be a teenager--maybe two years younger than her--whose skin was brown and completely hairless and who was dressed only in white cotton shorts that were impossibly clean for all the dirt that surrounded them. He seemed to be marked from head to toe with white tattoos that Mia could surmise were druidic patterns thanks to the expertise of Camellia, one of her fellow compatriots in the Scarlet Starlings. Yes, yes, they’re druidic! No need to go thinking about old memories now!

“I don’t know ancient, kid!” the champion called back. “Can you even speak with real people?”

The boy shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry! I have been speaking the old language for so long that it’s become second nature! I don’t even realize I am doing it sometimes!”

“What do you want?” Mia snapped. “We’re kind of in the middle of something!”

“I only mean to warn you that a servant of Lady Maula is hiding within this cave!” the boy said with a cringe. “It falls to me to confront her, but I must urge you to leave this place for your own safety.”

“I know about the witch,” Mia growled impatiently. “I’m actually here for her, so if you want me to leave, you’d better be prepared to make me.”

“I cannot stop you if you wish to rush into such danger, but please at least stay behind me,” the boy said as he began to walk into the cave.

Millie and Mia shared a look of confusion before jogging to catch up with the boy, who seemed to stride into the relative darkness with a sense of purpose.

“Wait a minute!” Mia hissed. “What does this have to do with you?”

The boy stopped in his tracks and bowed slightly. “I have been chosen by Lord Kerun to help stop his sister and her servants from destroying this land.”

Mia smacked her forehead impatiently with her palm. “Another champion? Who the hell are you?”

Recognition seemed to flood the boy’s face. “I see! You must have been chosen by one of the other gods! Let’s see… I think I feel Lady Salica’s solidarity in you!”

“How perceptive,” Mia grumbled. “How about you answer my question instead of your own?”

“I am called Kevin,” the newfound champion said with a friendly smile.

“Kevin what?”

“Oh, I have no family name,” Kevin said with a shake of his head. “The druidic commune that found me as a baby didn’t see any need to give me one.”

“Kevin’s a pretty funny name for a druid,” Millie said as she conjured a ball of light to illuminate their way forward.

“My name is all I have left of my family,” Kevin said with a shrug.

“Well, Kevin the druid, it’s nice to meet you!” Millie said with a friendly smile.

Who the fuck has time for this? “Yeah, yeah, let’s get acquainted later! I’m trying to rescue someone!”

Kevin nodded and strolled deeper into the cave silently. He seemed to be an awkward kid, not that Mia came to think of it. He didn’t seem to care that anyone else was there. He appeared to be concerned with his mission and little else. Without any engagement from Millie or Mia, he seemed perfectly content to focus on his objective. It’s nice to have such an efficient ally for a change! As they watched the boy walk from behind, Millie leaned in to whisper to Mia.

“Hey! Do you want to hear something cool about that boy’s ink?”

Mia didn’t bother to speak, but looked at her with her eyebrows raised. 

“Those tattoos are like welcoming messages to me and other fey,” Millie said with a grin. “I think he’s made a contract with the elder of some fey village.”

“Oh, then it’ll probably look pretty when he decides to make himself useful,” Mia grumbled.

Just then, Kevin disappeared around a corner that Mia had nearly missed in the semidarkness. As she turned to follow, she found what she was looking for. The oni priestess who had put her in her current predicament stood near a brazier positioned under cave paintings Mia didn’t care to do more than glance at. She leered over Sara’s prone form, muttering to herself as she waved her hand over the other champion. When she saw the three people who invaded her dank sanctum, she stood up and regarded them with a cruel smile.

“Well! I was planning to come back for you once I finished with this one. Thank you for saving me the trouble of carrying you,” she said with a smile that looked innocent, but reeked of intent that was anything but.

Millie, who had been staring at Sara, asked, “What are you doing to her?”

“There is great power in the soul of one who is favored by the gods,” the witch said with a roll of her eyes. “This is something that appeals to me. Feel free to use your imagination.”

“No need!” Mia growled threateningly. “It’s going to stop now if you’re interested in keeping the same amount of blood in your body!”

Adaling laughed mirthlessly as she gave Mia a lazy wave of her hand. “The Death Goddess dubs thee… Rego! Wargo! Lugo!”

The witch’s incantation caused three burly maulans to appear in the narrow space between herself and her foes, causing Mia to click her tongue impatiently. She was in a position to fight back this time, but she wasn’t left with nearly enough space to move around. Avoiding their tails would be a problem. She had to think about how to work around this, but she didn’t have long to consider her strategy before Kevin stepped forward and began to approach the maulans. He did so casually, seemingly without any fear of their tails. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Mia shouted in disbelief.

Kevin made no effort to dodge the maulans’ tail strikes, which in turn failed to even penetrate his skin. He only continued his apparently pleasant stroll until he was close to touch the creatures. When he pressed his palm to the torso of the first, the creature screamed in agony as his body began to dissolve as if affected by his own poison. Kevin repeated whatever he had done twice more, leaving Adaling alone with her prisoner once more. With a snarl, she whipped her arm across the room, causing a cold feeling to come over Mia and everyone else in the room.

“I’m not sure what the hell that was, but it looks like you’re outmatched here,” the assassin said with a smirk as she tried to get closer to the witch, only to be stopped in her tracks by Millie.

“Wait! Don’t move!” Millie shouted urgently as she pointed to the ground beneath them.

Mia followed the spellwarrior’s gaze down to her feet, between which a black stalactite seemed to be protruding. She nudged the spike with her foot, which seemed to cause it to grow slightly. 

“If you don’t hold absolutely still, that thing is going to keep growing from your own shadow until it impales you,” Millie said breathlessly. “I hate this spell! It’s so evil!”

Kevin continued to stare Adaling down for a moment longer before opening his mouth. From it, a dozen tiny winged creatures with white fur swarmed out toward the witch. With a hiss of frustration, Adaling floored the majority of them with a spell which conjured a sickle of black light that Mia might have remembered seeing Seth use in one of his RGT matches. Only one of these new creatures remained flying after this assault and, considering the way it began to bob through the air, it didn’t seem unharmed. The creature retreated to Kevin, who opened his mouth and swallowed it once more. Once he did so, the druidic markings that covered his entire body changed from white to black. 

“Those were eversprites!” Millie whispered excitedly to Mia. “Oh my gods! He’s a feykin!”

As Kevin began to walk once more, a spike began to grow from his shadow as well. But he seemed unconcerned as it grew and grew until it should have skewered him. Instead of harming him, the shadow began to phase harmlessly through his body.

“Thanks to those eversprites he conjured, he’s immune to her shadow magic!” Millie added to Mia’s slight irritation.

“Okay, what’s a feykin?” Mia grumbled, more out of frustration with finding herself helpless again than genuine curiosity. 

“Feykin are mortals who have formed a connection with the fey,” Millie explained while Adaling lashed out with her shadow claw spell. “That means he can use our powers! His hands pulse with the light of a kerunite’s eyes, which explained what happens to the maulans! Hell! I bet he can spit lava like a magmadon or even inflict maulan venom with his touch!”

“Eversprite magic won’t protect you from this!” Adaling hissed! “Amul dala!”

Black flames suddenly erupted from Kevin’s shorts, causing him to jump in alarm, howling in pain.

“He’s going to need our help! How do we get out of this spell?” Mia snapped curtly. 

“There is no escape!” Millie wailed. “We have to wait for the spell to wear off or for the caster to voluntarily remove it!”

Mia was already beginning to feel stiff. “Screw that!” She could feel the insidious spike inching further upward beneath her as she pulled the pistol from her holster and took aim at the witch.

Millie gasped as soon as she saw the weapon. “You can’t! There’s someone innocent in there!”

Millie rolled her eyes as she loaded an unusual round into the weapon. Sometimes, the work of a Starling needed to be public when the target preferred to stick to places that were anything but. When those times came, they had thin glass-tipped bullets filled with a sleeping potion that could be administered when their saturated shards cut into the target’s skin. They were used rarely as assassin tools, but now that she was giving a less deadly lifestyle a try, she would have cause to fire a lot more of these sleep rounds.

“Like I care,” she grumbled as she squeezed in the trigger.

Even in the dimly-lit environment, the Starling’s aim was true. The bullet struck her prey cleanly in the chest, where Mia suspected that the potion would be quickly dispersed. Within moments, Adaling began to falter and her grip on Sara loosened. Millie would then breathe a sigh of relief as the dangerous magic that had rooted them to the spot vanished. The spellwarrior turned toward Kevin and waved the flames that assailed him away with a wave of her hand and an accompanying gust of wind.

“Thank you,” the young druid murmured. “I didn’t count on there being fire. I’ve never been good at handling that.”

Mia ignored the two of them as she went to go check on Sara. She still appeared to be asleep, but didn’t respond to the Starling’s attempts to revive her. When Kevin was reasonably certain that he wasn’t badly burned, he joined Mia at her side and smiled. 

“What was done by the mother can easily be undone by the father. Invigorate!”

Sara suddenly sat bolt upright and looked around in bewilderment. When her eyes found Mia’s, she mumbled. “Where happened?”

“I hope at least one of you knows!” Another voice boomed from behind them.

Mia looked up to see the spellwarrior that she had first seen in the RGT approaching them from behind. Seth Midas looked impatient, and for good reason. A week of waiting for her and Sara can’t have been good for the nerves of the rest of the group.

“This woman is apparently s servant of Maula,” Mia murmured. “She had us knocked out with some Serene magic this whole time. We had to track her down to this spot because she was trying to steal her soul or something.”

Seth studied the woman’s features and groaned. “Shit.”

The others snapped their gazes toward Seth. “What?” Sara said.

“This is Adamora. She’s my second-cousin,” Seth explained darkly. “I ran into another second-cousin very recently who seemed to serve Maula in the same way. Clint says they were guarding Orion’s artifacts.”

The spellwarrior coated his hands in a black light similar to the shadow magic Mia had recently just escaped before driving his hands into the sleeping witch’s chest. Moments later, he pulled out a thick, black, spiked chain that had apparently been resting within her. 

“This is the last piece,” he said solemnly as he seemed to study his relative.

“By the gods!” Sara gulped. “That… was a thing that happened!”

“This is what we were looking for, right?” Mia said eagerly. “This means we’re nearly done!”

Mia hadn’t invested nearly as much time in this quest as Seth or Sara had, but she was eager to be done with it nonetheless. At this point, she was far more interested in eradicating the Scarlet Starlings than participating in some divine whatever-this-was, but she felt compelled to keep the promise she had made to Sara. Therefore, she was more than eager to see this ultimate weapon’s completion. The sooner this ends, the better!

Next Chapter

What Have You Done To Me?

Deidre,

I would have written sooner, but I was only just released from the stockade today. I was arrested for breaking a man's jaw in anger. I have never stricken another man before, but so much has happened in my life lately that I never thought possible. I never thought a friend would turn to ridicule me for failing as a provider and husband. I never thought you would leave us to fool around with that slut you call your "friend". I never thought I would forget about our children because I was blinded with rage.  Our world has changed so much this year and I can't help but blame you for some of it.

I was lost when I found your letter. It took you just fifty-two words to explain why you left. Fifty-two words to justify forsaking me, Jonathon, and Emily. Looking back, that was where my unyielding anger began. The idea that the past fifteen years we have spent together was worth only fifty-two words was a slap in the face. I have never hurt you, but have worked hard to keep you and the children as happy and healthy as possible. I have given my soul to make your life as easy as I could and I have given you experiences that have paled in comparison seemingly only to whatever you have with Annette. I deserved better than to have lost you, never mind to have it explained away with the paltry sum of only fifty-two fucking words!

With that in mind, I wasn't about to give up on you. I left the children with poor Clara thinking she could use some wholesome company after what became of her husband. I then took to the road when I should have been resting from my last hunt. If nothing else, I wanted to get the explanation I deserved. I wanted you to look into my eyes and tell me that this was how little our family mattered to you. But along the way, I ran into the magic-wielding brigand that destroyed Edward and Clara. I gave him everything I had so he would let me pass. I thought that was the end of it, but now that I think back, the righteous anger I felt seemed to deepen after that encounter.

That was when I found my first deer in months. What irony it was to have struggled for so long to provide for you only to find this damned creature after I had already failed. I fear this wasn't the most logical thread of thought to follow, but I became infuriated nonetheless. I chased that animal deep into the woods and may have crossed into Tanis at some point. I wanted that unlucky bastard's hide, and to take its meat to my children. But before I could catch it, we both ran afoul of a larger predator. The deer rightfully belonged to the bear at that point, but I couldn't accept that. With nothing but my bow, I fought the beast and lost.

I woke up back in the village, embittered by my foolish mistake. Within days I had become an even bigger village fool than Edward, who looks more and more like a wanton wench by the day. That was when Joseph made the remarks that caused me to hit him. The most terrifying part was the satisfaction I felt when I sent him sprawling to the ground. It was as if my mind rewarded me for indulging my anger. I don't understand what's happening to me, but I know the anger isn't going away. But who is to blame? Is it you for betraying me so carelessly? Was it the bandit's sinister magic that did this to me? Or has this anger been hiding within me my whole life, waiting to be expressed? I don't know, and I'm starting to wonder if I even need to.

So, instead of continuing my journey to confront you, I am writing this letter to express the feelings you have left me with. I'm not sure I can even trust them after meeting the Robber in Robes. But here is what I can tell you: I'd better not see you ever again, for your own safety. I will never see the children again, either. Clara is good with them and she needs them a lot more than I do at the moment. Although you certainly don't deserve it, you can rest easy knowing they're safely out of the way of the man their father has become. I can't promise myself that I won't hurt anyone again, and a growing part of me looks forward to it. If only you could see what's become of me thanks to you, you would recoil in terror and I'd welcome it.

Sincerely,

Avery Hawke

The Last Maloran Prologue

Introducing a new story for World of Comalan's line of serials! The Malorans are a line of magic users descended from Resta's first king and the founder of Hem Academy. This story is about how the Malorans passed their legacy on to the elves who have succeeded them in modern times and how the history of Resta's throne became so turbulent.

Thea

Freedom at last! The world changed the day the Malorans abdicated Sunburst Keep to their Blackstone allies. Those with opinions about her father's decision to pass the kingdom into the hands of the new king, Rudolph Blackstone, considered this great change to be her responsibility. The logic was sound. After all, no one ever thought she was fit to succeed the great Artix Maloran. From a young age, she had proven to be unconventional in how she presented herself to the world. No matter how her father and the family retainers tried to get her to act more like a man, she could never deny the person she saw herself as. Despite the daily pressure that she was under, young Theodore Maloran could never accept the life that everyone else laid before her. 

This was a source of great shame for her father, but Thea never understood why. Who cared if she identified more with her Aunt Isabelle than her father? It wasn't as if she lacked the intelligence to protect her people. It wasn't even as if she lacked the power to carry on the Maloran family legacy. She was a skilled magic user, but that was the only thing she shared with her father. Somehow, this meant that she could never fill his shoes or his throne. This was something she could live with if the alternative was accepting the narrative that others had foisted on her about herself. Wasn't she entitled to determine her own identity? It was this belief that had turned her into a joke and somehow ended the Royal line.

Now she lived in Gyanda, where there was little to do but worship Chaos day in and day out. Here in the Grand Temple, many of the problems she experienced in the capitol didn't matter. Everyone here knew to take her seriously because she had been given plenty of opportunity to prove her strength. Here, where power was all that mattered, she was free to be herself without consequences.

Cierra

The world changed for the Blackstones when the Malorans abdicated the throne. Before Cierra's family name became synonymous with Royalty, their lives had been very simple. There were two choices for all of the children as they grew up. Some chose to be groomed for life in the clergy at the Monastery her grandmother Karla founded while others chose to preserve life by toiling on the family farm. As the source of the majority of Resta's food, Blackstone Farm was the pride of the kingdom. Many of Cierra's relatives jumped at the chance to experience a life of decadence at Sunburst Keep, but even that wasn't enough to convince her to give up the life she grew up with.

The upshot of this was that she had the farm all to herself. She still had farmhands to help her, but no one around to argue with. She was free to plant whatever she wished and set her own schedule. This was what it meant for a devoted farmer like herself to be free. On the day this realization struck, she might have turned the entire property in her jubilee, but she had work to do.

The morning of Cierra's very first harvest was wracked with anticipation. The time had come to pull up the very first of her special golden potatoes. This marvels of agriculture were the culmination of many years of selective breeding that her father would never have given a single row of their precious fields for her to grow before. This was what she had been looking forward to since long before the abdication: the chance to bring her experiment into the world to delight the masses. But just as she was ready to rush into the fields with glee, an urgent knock rattled her door.

A messenger came to tell her that her brother Gaston had been murdered.

Kalaal

The last of the trees in the westland forests offered a strange sight to Kalaal as they scattered and broke away, revealing a clear blue sky. The wagon he rode in jolted as the horses pulling it took their first steps onto a Restan road. This was it; a hundred-year life in Tanis ended in that moment and gave way to something new. The forest he grew up with was now gone and in the sky he had already seen something few elves had seen before. It was hard to imagine that this was what people in the world beyond the trees were used to seeing when they looked upward.

Everyone called him crazy when he announced that he would be going to see the world. His parents even threatened to disown him, but he didn't care. Kalaal had never felt at ease in such a dark home as Setria. All that surrounded the places where he worked, ate, and slept was stone. To even have a chance of seeing the sky meant leaving the city entirely. Even then the skyline around Setria, the closest city to the Restan border, was almost nonexistent. Ever since he received that fateful letter from Olenia, he had been enamored with the world of blue skies and bountiful light. If his little sister could find more happiness there than among their people, who was to say he couldn't and who were his family to try to stop him?

The wagon turned southward to the city of Amora, where Olenia said she was staying. He supposed the odds of culture shock were minimal there, as the people there were said to worship the same goddess his people did. The cultural values that his sister described seemed so familiar, but couldn't be exactly the same in such an unfamiliar place. Kalaal was ready for all of it; what the humans had in common with his people, the ways in which they were different. In this country, he anticipated a harmonious blend of what he loved about his old home and something new.

And if everything was different, he could handle that too.