One war. Two Sisters. One end.
There is no running from it. Fate shall have its way as both daughters of Stormband take to the field of battle. Each with one goal - vengeance.
Approximately 130k words.
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And the Child of Prophecy must be sacrificed to save the foundation of the future.
Journal of Reane Matir
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Like a bolt of lightning struck her, Reane surged upright in her bed and out of the slumber that finally consumed her late into the evening. Between the heavy breaths in and their accompanying brisk exhales, she tried to coral the enduring parts of the visions at the source of her angst. Covers cast half-aside, the meager glow of embers remaining in the fireplace did little to warm, or even light, the second story room given to her for the duration of her stay in Telga.
Bolstered by the visions haunting her dreams each night over the past five days, the puffy, dark bags under her eyes had only expanded in size to the point where they actually hurt. After several unsuccessful attempts, the seer combed the sweat-soaked hair from her face. Skin clammy, throat dry and raw from screaming in her sleep, Reane took the seconds that followed her awakening to acclimate herself back into reality.
Gripped by the undeniable sensation that she was literally falling apart, her mental checks and balances verified she was no longer consumed by her vision. Satisfied that it was over, she focused her thoughts on the oil lamp resting by her bedside. Without even so much as the slightest physical touch from Reane, a moment later it burst to life and brought enough light to see by into the room.
The remaining covers discarded, Reane threw her legs over the edge and placed her feet, still in their boots, onto the wooden floor with its annoying creek. Slinging a heavy fur hanging at her bedside over her shoulders, she advanced upon the only window draped in heavy winter curtains. Throwing them back, she took advantage of the missing panes of glass to cast open the louvered shutters.
The night rushed across her face, making Reane's blood run even colder as she stood there and stared towards the heavens lit by what remained of Earoni's Eye above the southern horizon.
Below her, on what passed for a street here in Telga, a guard walked by. The lone soul about in the evening stopped his nightly circuit as he recognized the delicate light cascading out of her window. With a glance up, their eyes met in what was now a recurring routine exhibiting a dwarven-like precision. After only a slight hesitation, the patrolman moved off to resume his rounds.
