In Darkened Dreams_7 Hannovan
Being stuck on the back of a horse with his arms wrapped around his brother's mid section the whole way, made the two day journey seem like a lifetime. Aras had pushed them to ride what seemed like long past sundown that first day, not that it made much difference to him, in order to make extra ground. The young soldier was quiet and purposeful but he was kind. He had even been right there with Theran to comfort him when he had woken up from another version of his dark dreams.
They finally reached Dunnath by sundown of the second day and Hannovan could not have been happier to slide down off of that horse. Jamous Payne had sent a bird ahead of them, so Lord Jogan Ghent was there to welcome them to his city. Hannovan had asked Theran to describe the city as they entered since he himself could not see it. He wanted to get a sense of where he was. 'It's ten times the size of Dunhollow,' Theran had said, 'surrounded by a huge thick wall. Inside the streets are narrow
In Darkened Dreams_6Chapter Two
Theran was on his hands and knees planting another row of seeds when he saw them coming, Jamous Payne's hulking form stalking towards his house with Lorcan Wheeler and Aras Brai in tow. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind of what they could be coming for. Was it the disturbance they had caused yesterday? Or could they have found out about Hannovan's dream, but how? He had not seen anyone about last night. His stomach was tying itself into knots as he stood up, determined to reach the house before they did. He raced towards the back of the house, only seeing Hannovan's form sitting atop the stump in the side yard at the last possible second, but he was too late, Jamous had already spotted him.
"Highwater!" Payne called out.
The name grated against his heart as he watched his brother turn toward the sound. The boy slipped off of the stump and walk towards the soldiers. Jamous took him roughly by the arm, jarring Theran out of his fearful
In Darkened Dreams_5 Hannovan
Hannovan ignored his mother's worried fawning and went straight to his room, leaving his brother to deal with her. The day's ordeal had taken a lot out of him. Hannovan Highwater he lamented. That was his name now, ever since the flood. If they had just listened to him sooner, maybe they could have prevented it from happening. He had warned them though and the river had still flooded the village. It was that day that he had decided that there was no stopping his visions from coming true, a realization that frightened him terribly now. Ten steps, he counted as he walked from the doorway to his bed. Lying down, he ripped the bandages off of his face, allowing his skin to breathe.
Sleep took him quickly, once he let his mind rest. That night he dreamt of the wounded man again. He heard the sound of the breath going out of him and then the partial image appeared. All he could make out still was the blue, silk shirted torso and the hands that covered the bleeding woun
In Darkened Dreams_4 Laira
Laira took her son in her arms and hugged him tightly. Macon was home; she smiled to herself, and with such impeccable timing. Had he not returned at that exact moment she would have run out of options. As a result he could not express her gratitude enough so instead she continued to hug him until he complained of a lack of breath in his lungs. She set him back on the step he was on, her hands resting on his shoulders. He had grown up so much since he had left. He was taller now, and his shoulders had broadened like his father's. His face looked more gaunt and angular now too, harder, and his eyes, once bright and alive, seemed duller now, darkened by the horrors he must have seen. His jaw was covered by a thick, scratchy beard that had brushed up against her own cheek when they had embraced and his once golden hair seemed darker a well, though that may have merely been from the dirt and grime of war. Quinn too had grown up, now in his twentieth year. She took him i
In Darkened Dreams_3 Macon
Trudging through the remnants of an early spring snowfall, the Prince made his way through the Amman pass that traversed the southern peaks of the Nhara Mountains on his way back to Amador City, the King's city of Ethelia. The sun was beginning to dip in the western sky into a sea of brilliant orange clouds that gave a fiery glow to the ice and slush that covered the rock that surrounded him. His exhaustion from the past week's trek was making it hard for him to carry on at this pace for much longer, but he was so close to home now. Still, he knew they would have to make camp soon. He and his small contingent of soldiers would likely reach Amador before nightfall on the morrow but first they needed a rest.
Macon had received a bird from his father, King Magras, two weeks prior announcing the surrender of the Vardin army and requesting that he return home immediately. It did strike him as odd that peace had come so suddenly. The Vardin from what he had seen were a de