Forsaken: The Chosen Trilogy - Book One

A Word from Kryssa

Before you begin this story, I must warn you first. This is not a tale of dashing knights and lovely damsels awaiting rescue. It is not the tale of happy endings, with birdsong and rides into the sunset. It is a tale of light magic and dark, of dragons and monsters, of heroes and villains and the thin line between them. This is the tale of being broken, being made stronger, and then being broken again. This is a story of love of heartbreak so great if feels like your chest has been hollowed out and scraped clean, like you would never feel anything else ever again, and of love so powerful it can make even the gods tremble.

This is not a happy story, but it is our story, and it is the only one I know how to tell.

I am still not sure why Lanya has asked me to begin our tale. Perhaps it is because I am the oldest and she thinks my memory will be clearer than hers, for all that she knows I have tried to forget. Perhaps it is because Brannyn has refused, though I cannot blame him if he has. 

Or perhaps it is simply because I was actually there the night our destinies first claimed us, demanding that first price, though none of us knew it at the time. I have told the others what happened, but I am the only one who remembers. Certainly, no one else that was in that room now lives to tell it differently, so perhaps Lanya is right. Perhaps I should be the one to tell it.

But before I tell you of the blood, or the violence, or the monsters and shadows we grew to know better than ourselves, first you must know this:

Before the darkness descended upon us, we knew that there was love.