Chapter Nine: §7

January – 1027 YD
Lirna, Lenyol

Brennan was folded by his window, fixed on the Charge of Darkness. A subterranean restlessness had risen in him since receiving it; this was his fifth reading. Régan’s recognisable footfalls—quick, rhythmic, determined—echoed along the corridor. He slipped the text beneath his cushion.

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Chapter Nine: §6

January – 1027 YD
Gesula, Lenyol

Ànlisia woke in the dark of night to the familiar scrape of her front door grinding against stone. She drew a flame to light her candle and made toward the front of the house, certain Tàvae had returned.
__Candlelight could be seen through cracks in the kitchen door. Ànlisia whispered, ‘Tàvae? Are you alright?’ as she opened it.

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Chapter Nine: §5

January – 1027 YD
The Crossroads, Lenyol

The new year came, as it always did, with the beginning of January. The heat had barely abated since the October fires and the soil was beginning to cake.
__It was over such cracked earth that Kesia alternated driving her cart with Mellena and Toran. They had departed Gesula as the light had come, and it was now midday. The Crossroads could be seen as they passed over the final highland crest, and they immediately noticed a plethora of colourful tents flanking the village.

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Chapter Nine: §4

Spring – 1024 YD
West of Waylin, Lenyol

The sheep rotated in their pens like woollen whirlpools. Their bleating was echoed by the bellowing of cattle from their yards.
__Custodin Màtac surveyed the movement around him, of carriages riding in, shepherds and drovers guiding their stock, dozens of servants tending the tents, and a subdued rainbow of personages tarrying this way and that.
__‘My Lord,’ the Countess of Riverton quietly murmured, touching Màtac’s arm and nodding toward the north-east. The Custodin turned to follow her gaze, the Baron of Waylin oscillating with him.

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Chapter Nine: §3

December – 1026 YD
Delus, Miggest

Delus Palace contained a wing exclusively for Beran members. It was here that Vilsonius had resided for the past few weeks, sharing a corridor and Solar with the respectable High Commander Mahon. Within days of writhing under Galluel’s hungry gaze, he found himself locking his chambers at night and checking the room for secret servant entrances—of which there were thankfully none.

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