The Harrowed Half-Breed: A Tarnished Lands Story (Forgotten Woods Book 1)

False King

Hoger sat tall on his righteous throne, wondering why everything had been falling apart around him. An adviser was going over details regarding the folk/human sanctions.

"We cannot just abandon that part of the forest. Its resources are much too valuable," the adviser explained, peering over a hand-drawn map.

"They have the upper hand. And we need to break that hand," Hoger said, The Pit of the Forest—the feather-folks' most prized jewel—clasped inside his palm.

"They have already built a wall around our water supply!" the adviser said, while wrinkling the map with his over-exaggerated gesticulations.

"Watch your tone."

"Sorry for the intrusion, sir." An out-of-breath warrior burst into the royal chamber.

"Not now," Hoger said with a snap of his fingers.

"But...I've found them..."

"Valara?"

The warrior now had Hoger's full attention.

Still without a solution to his current predicament, the agitated adviser leaned against a wall, looking defeated. He feared that Hoger was never going to seriously heed any of his advice.

"Yes. A couple hours east of the grove."

"Did you capture them?"

"Well...no. They went over the wall before I..."

Without warning, Hoger threw whatever was inside his hand at the warrior. This time it happened to be the precious artifact.

Violent outbursts were a somewhat normal occurrence with the reactionary leader.

The warrior dodged out of the line of fire, mostly out of habit.

A guard approached the warrior, his mouth twisted in disgust. "Defending yourself against your chieftain is like attacking him directly," the guard scolded, kicking the warrior to his knees.

The adviser rushed over and picked up the artifact carefully, showing it the precious treatment it deserved. "Sir?"

"Uh, I know I shouldn't have thrown it. It's his fault for upsetting me."

"It's not that."

"Can you just stop bugging me for one single day? Then maybe, just maybe, I might actually be able to get rid of this headache," Hoger grumbled.

"I think I know why things are so bad for us."

"Can it wait until I'm finished with this incompetence?!" Hoger gestured at the warrior.

"No!" the adviser yelled through years of pent-up frustration. He was sick of being an adviser who couldn't advise, simply because his leader was too bull-headed to listen.

The guard approached him with a raised arm.

"It's fake. Look at the crack," the adviser said, edging toward Hoger and away from the guard.

"Let me see," Hoger snatched the jewel from his hand. "Colored glass," he concluded, as black sand leaked out of the center of the counterfeit gem. "She must have the real one. Send everything we've got over the wall, if you have to."

The adviser smiled deeply. For the first time in a long time, his advice was being taken into account.