Chapter Seven

The morning crept on The Sword with a swiftness and with it approached Whitewool’s army.  Before Billingsley’s men were ready to move out, Whitewool was already approaching the base of The Blemish. A horn sounded, waking Seth up from his deep sleep.  Groggy eyes and yawns surrounded him as confusion broke out around the reasoningContinue reading “Chapter Seven”

Chapter Six

Strand separated from strand.  Cloth ripped from cloth.  Sharpened steel wedged between them.  At the hilt was Seth’s distraught hands, trembling with the memory of each strike on the dummy.  Not from shame or guilt, but from pure fatigue.  Muscles that had only lifted fingers their whole lifetime were now wielding blades. Beyond the handsContinue reading “Chapter Six”


The dodecahedron sat idle in the depths of The Windbreak.  Floating at the center of a great mass of trees.  The Shape had been there since before the birth of written history.  At the end of each rainy season, five years, travelers ascended onto the plains paralleling that great stripe of wood.  Each looking toContinue reading “Prologue”

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