David Dalglish - Dawn of Swords

“Not Kaurthulos,” the god responded. “Though I do remember you, as if from a dream. We are splintered now, Order and Justice, War and Love. I am Karak, and though you are right to serve, I am not the one you should thank. It is he, over there, who set you free.”

The beast lifted its head, gazing at Jacob from across the expanse.

“Fellow child of the mighty Kaurthulos, I thank you for releasing me,” Darakken said, bowing low. “Please, tell me your name, so I may call it out in reverence when I shear the flesh of our enemies.”

“His name is Jacob Eveningstar, First Man of Dezrel,” said Karak.

Jacob shook his head as the power of the beast he had devoured surged through him. He was no longer who he was. No, he was something greater. His mind exploded with knowledge that made his journal a pale mockery of wisdom. Everything he used to be was gone. He cast aside the last vestiges of his weakness, swearing to never again whisper the name Brienna. Standing to his full height, shadows and light playing off his fingers as if he could command the universe itself, he stared into the beast Darakken and let it know he was its master. A child of two gods, commander of demons, the first man of a fledgling world. The pathetic human name no longer fit him…it would no longer suffice. So he took another.

“Jacob Eveningstar no longer exists,” he said through clenched teeth. “Let me bear a name far more worthy.”

And as Darakken fed on the corpses before him, Velixar laughed and laughed.

Ang was a quaint little fishing village, a rocky land filled with nothing but crude wooden huts and tents. It was unlike anything Aully had seen before, for even the homes built within the trees of Stonewood had been elaborate constructions, many with separate living areas, bedrooms, and even solariums. Living in a single, cramped space? That compared favorably only to the cells in the dungeon below Palace Thyne. She cursed at her own selfishness for the unworthy thought.

Beggars cannot be choosers .

Kindren came up beside her. They were hiding out in a thatch of trees just outside what looked to be the village’s common area. There were people everywhere, humans whose flesh were differing shades of brown, chatting among themselves, wandering the narrow, dusty path that led through the center of the clearing. She recognized a few of them from her days at her father’s court, when there had been disputes over borders, as Ang was positioned very close to Stonewood’s southern boundary. She remembered Bessus Gorgoros and his wife, two of the loudest, most intense, and intimidating people she had ever met. Of course, that had been before she came to understand true intimidation, so she guessed that it was possible she was building the pair up in her mind.

“I don’t see a palace,” said Kindren, whispering. “Or a fortress of any kind. Where do the leaders reside?”

Aully shrugged. “I don’t know.”

A sharp pain flared inside her knee, and she winced and flopped down on her rump. She rubbed the sore spot vigorously, gritting her teeth. I should be used to this by now , she thought, and shook her head. Cramps had become an unwelcomed friend over the last month, as she and the rest of her people who had escaped from Dezerea traipsed from place to place, first to the river, then south along its banks, until finally they reached the coast, which they followed to what Aully was convinced would be friendly territory. When they weren’t walking or trying to avoid hunting parties sent out by Neyvar Ruven, they were scavenging for food, trying to rest their weary bones and blistered feet, or hiding from those who traveled across the Gods’ Road. They never knew who might be friend or foe, and that weighed the most on Aullienna’s heart-even more than the constant worry over whether she should inform her mother of Brienna’s death.

It had been the most discouraging part of her short life, and Aully just wanted it to end.

The people of Ker had not been friends to her people. Bessus and Damaspia held a long-standing loathing for her father, and her mother and her advisors constantly brought up this fact as Aully insisted on the trip. She refused to listen. Instead, she was placing her entire hope on one man and one man alone, the giant named Bardiya.

She had met the son of Gorgoros only once in person, though she had spied on him often. He had been the sole human in all of Ker who talked sensibly with her people, who seemed to care about the sanctity of their forest as much as they did. When news had come of him needlessly butchering a flock of kobo, she’d refused to believe it. Not long after that unfortunate event she’d run into him in the forest. He had been sitting there calmly with a pair of wolves, his tree trunk legs crossed and his eyes closed. When he spoke to her then, his voice had been soft and delicate. It was only because of her father’s warnings that she’d remained wary.

I believe in the sanctity of all life, the giant had said. Now, it was time to put that statement to a test. If she could simply talk to Bessus, convince him to hold court with his son, then perhaps.…

Her mother came from behind her, speaking in hushed tones.

“What are you doing, Aullienna?” she asked. “Will we remain here or ask for help?”

Aully rolled her eyes. Her mother was filthy beyond compare-they all were-and she looked desperate. Aully wanted to tell her to do it herself. But that wasn’t fair. Traveling to Ang had been her idea, which made it her responsibility to make contact. She took a deep breath, blew a kiss to the ancient Noni, and then grabbed Kindren’s hand.

“My love?” she said.

He nodded.

Together they stood and left the cover of the copse where they’d been lurking, walking hand-in-hand into the center of the clearing. At first they were paid no mind, and Aully imagined that with the dirt and grime covering them, they must have blended in with their surroundings. Finally someone spotted them and voices were raised in alarm. Fingers pointed, and a woman quickly shooed a group of small children away. “Elf!” became the rallying cry, and the word was spoken with disdain, as if they were wild beasts set on devouring the village young. Men carrying spears with tips of sharpened stone rushed up to them, and those spears were pointed their way.

“There are others!” Aully shouted in the common tongue. “Hiding in the woods. We mean you no harm. Please…we just wish to speak with the master of House Gorgoros.”

That statement drew confused glances from their captors, but that confusion was replaced by determination as the men lunged into the forest, where Aully had pointed, and rounded up the rest of their group.

None of them were harmed, but they were kept at arm’s length as they were ushered down a dusty path and led to the coast, where a rocky beach jutted out into the crystal blue waters of the southern Thulon Ocean. On a large, flat rock sat a mountain of a man, his skin black as coal and beaded with sweat. Aully and Kindren were escorted away from the others, and they approached the giant Bardiya. He opened his eyes and surprised her by greeting her with the first smile she’d seen that day.

“Ah, young Aullienna. What brings you to our fine paradise by the sea?”

Aully curtseyed. He remembered my name , she thought.

It was Kindren who spoke. “We come seeking asylum, Prince of Ker.” He dropped to a knee before the giant. “Please, our group is hungry and afraid, and we seek shelter within your…” his darted from side to side, “…walls, as it were.”

Bardiya chuckled. “I am no prince, young elfling. There are no titles in this land.”

“What should I call you then?”