*Book 1 of "The Heim Texts"*
A High Fantasy novel.
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A Casteless magus who is much more than she thinks she is.
A King.
A Queen.
A banished prince.
A rebel.
The Third Quenching is near. The Holder might consum...
"Stern at level with the bow There we go, on we go. Voyage out with the straits cleft of pain Hither he went as a hurricane.
His lips sang as shattered winds Hallowed seams filled with battered beliefs that he thinned. Let water be a bed, a bed of Nherse Meet Creation the Mother, the Father, the Child that hath birthed.
Temperate thunder, now gay winds do blow Seeds to sow, on we go. Thoughts thirsty, as is the tide - sea drowns sea Which drowns mesh, drains sand, heals wounds, cuts flesh.
Swim and duck and kiss a friend - aye, fiend's billow of burn Embrace Creation the Mother, the Father, the Child that hath Birthed. Lo! Counselled, sprayed, wet with wisdom, wit in thine heart - There we go, on we go, on we go."
~Unknown, 'Records of Requiem'
{retrv. Nywan Era - Educatori, Chisteen}
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The girl looking back at her from within the mirror was a stranger. Her hair was sleek black where it should've been the color of dried mud, and there was a allure to her eye which the previous Addie had not possessed.
The miracles a bath can render, commented her nails.
Morning crawled across her skin when she got into the breeches Disha had arranged for her. It had not finished its crawl as Addie gorged on food, nor when she graced the oat-hay-horse-manure-smelling ostler with a most kind smile.
"Ain't she lovely, m'lady?" said he in response. "When she's a-walkin' it feels like she's a-flyin'. Not a better steed in the w'ole Gorpal you could find, wager me on that."
"Yes." Addie stroked the piebald in front of her, whinnying in her breath. "Why would you want to sell her?"
"Money, 'course, what else? Wouldn't've sold her still if I had 'nother to, but I don't. She's the only free horse up for availin'."
"What's her name?"
"Dumket," said the ostler. "Ain't it a lovely name for a lovely steed?"
"Dumket? As in Reancese for Untiring?"
"I wouldn' be knowing none o' that, m'lady. Osson named it. 'ee was the last man that worked 'ere. My tongue suits only me language well."
Balwen came out and paid the man the exorbitant price of Dumket and Gryphik's roan. Any lower breed horse they could have make done with - to the docks was only a few hours' ride from the Stayback Inn - but the ostler was convinced they would not be able to find steeds elsewhere. At any rate, they did not have the time for scout or bargain.
The four Jen already had orrocks they had hired at their arrival - each taller than any horse, stronger and meaner on top, with maroon eyes and pebbled skin and two whip-like tails.
