Primate Typings

            The snow had been melting over the last few days, cold crystals transformed into drops that slipped through their still frozen cousins and into the ground. Even at the heights the travelers had camped at, the crystals of the first snowstorm rarely survived their first few days, much less the entire firerest. (more…)

            Her prison was buried deep in the mountain, a pocket of air no larger than a coffin. Sanura woke with a start, despite lingering pangs from a crack to her head she received during her fall. She tried to sit up in the darkness, immediately damaging her skull again as it bounced off the ceiling right above her. A tidal wave of panic washed over her as she stretched out to explore the true limits of her confinement. The terror in her swelled and refused to recede. (more…)

            To his surprise, the burning sun did not tire Celeres as much as he expected. That first day in the desert had been one long run, fleeing ahead of the arrival of Prince Emhyr, but as the sun set, he still felt strong enough to continue long into the night. A gradual lightheadedness that caused him to stumble several times finally convinced him to collapse for the night. He pulled out a blanket, one of the few items in the pack, and curled up to sleep. (more…)

            Sanura’s head pounded in time with her heart, adding a tinge of misery to her victory over Einian. “But it wasn’t me,” she said.

            “Well, it wasn’t any of the rest of us. She died after you stuck the sword in her, which suggests it must have been you,” Arva argued. (more…)

            Celeres found that the gold masks held little regard for the blood knights. As the only one dressed in red livery traveling with the Prince, the thirty men and women in yellow let him know just what they thought of an army built from thieves and criminals. Having lived in Tagerden, Celeres was tempted to point out just how corrupt the average gold mask was but prudently kept his opinions to himself. Not that he had many opportunities to express them, given the habit of the gold masks to exclude him from any conversation. (more…)

             “So, what took you away from the young ones?” Arva asked curiously.

            The Cheldean had taken Khenet’s arrival with his usual equanimity. The old woman had joined them after they were out of sight of Bluthafen’s walls, riding up on a saddleless antelope. After introductions and pleasantries, Arva set about quizzing her for details about her life. (more…)

            The rift was not a natural feature of Tiran. Like much of the terrain of the north-out arm, it had been shaped by the Shard War. A stray blast of kinetics had burst a seam along Tirannenmoordenaar’s corpse, exposing a many mile trench of rough stone and veins of metals to Zonneshin’s light. The resulting earthquake did almost a much damage to the land as the widespread disruption of true names by the combatants. (more…)

            He threw the blade in after it and watched it sink below the light. Then he closed his eyes and leapt, casting his name into creation. (more…)