Chapter Sixteen: The Loss of Reason

Brandyé awoke to darkness and the muted roar of distant flames. He tried to move, and found his hands were shackled before him. His throat was parched, and he wondered how long he had been kept here, wherever he was. As he lay in the dark, he found he could hear the sounds of many people moving about, and suspected he was in a tent. He wondered that there seemed to be no guard to keep watch, and equally wondered that he seemed alone—what had happened to Athalya, and the Sarâthen?

Continue reading →

Chapter Fifteen: The Namirèn

The Sleeping Death, as it came to be known, did not come to Courerà that year, or the next. With the help of the courts, Elven and Gwendolyn banned all travel across the kingdom, unless it was a direct matter of life and death. The great gate to Erârün was shut, and Kiriün became a sealed kingdom indeed. Camps were set up at the entrances to all the largest towns, and healers—under the watchful eye of soldiers—monitored all who entered and left for signs of illness. Many were turned away; food became scarce in the capital, and even the rich grew hungry. Word of illegal trade in luxuries reached the ears of the courts, but to Elven it was a small price to pay to keep the plague at bay.

Continue reading →

Chapter Fourteen: A Sealed Kingdom

“Gwendolyn!” he cried, and rushed to her side. Instinctively he began feeling for the wound, but she pushed his hand away.

“Elven, I’m fine,” she said, gasping for breath.

“You’re covered in blood!” he exclaimed.

Continue reading →