Chapter 1
Shouts and yells. Heaving to the ground, arrows slamming into the deck. The smell of blood and sea salt unified.
10 years ago, still vivid in my mind.
Royle clasped the brew, white knuckled.
Vision stained red. Nose blessed with the ceaseless presence of sea water; eyes and ears cursed with the persistent fire of arrows. Wood and iron sunk deep into flesh. The enemy ship, bearing down upon them, a noble yet daunting beast. It swept waves away as if they were but insignificant pests, fortunate enough to even behold the ship that was death incarnate.
Surging water thrashed about, held in captivity, as if you could keep a leash on nature.
At the front stood a regal outline, resplendent in robes of office.
High Lord Lliman Yurin.
Royle slumped awkwardly in his chair and smacked his head on the oak table with a resounding thump.
It’s happening again isn’t it?
No. Don’t think like that. Don’t think at all.
