The Books of Eventide
Category:
Fantasy
ISBN-10: B00IF3XFK6
Pages: 442
Copyright: February, 2014
ISBN-13: 9781783013265
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
To protect the world, two bounty hunters must save the one who would bring about its destruction. Problem is, he doesn't want any part of it...
In order to protect the world, they would have to save the one who would bring about its destruction;
Only problem is he doesn’t want any part of it.
Meet a reluctant avatar- a bringer of annihilation and cleanser of all life- and those who intend to rescue him from destiny itself. Joining him is a talented young mage far from her homeland, a well-respected saurian warrior and a scholar who isn’t quite what one would expect.
Deities, dragons, sword fights, rival sects and powerful magic- join the journey across Demaria’s remarkable lands!
Sometimes the only way to rid oneself of the past…
is to go back and confront it.
Excerpt
“If our luck doesn't improve soon, you know," the girl said with a sigh, chin propped on her hand. Her other hand idly stirred a couple of Jasmine tea with a spoon. "Then I'm finding a new line of work. I wonder if herb wizards make good coin..."
From across the scuffed well-worn table, her saurian friend raised a scaly eyebrow. She took a drink from her own mug; a beverage called Blacktar as much due to its color as its taste. The Yarcka flashed serrated fangs in a smile that gleamed next to her emerald skin. "I told you, you don't have to worry about what happened. It was not completely your fault I was injured. And I think it is an herb wizards job to make the plants grow, not burn them up".
Aya mock-glared, a smile turning the corners of her mouth in a way she was incapable of hiding. "Uh-huh, like it wasn't your fault we didn't get paid the full amount from the Bounty Master on account of the fact we failed to bring the guy back 'in entirety' and on top of that couldn't be exactly positive it was really the same guy on the warrant on account of-"
"Okay, Okay!" Serrtin said, raising her taloned hands in defeat. "That was my fault. Most Larren know not to challenge a Yarcka like that- especially not with a pathetic toy like he had; a shearing tool fit to shave his backside if I’d ever seen one, not to cross swords with the likes of me. But I guess no one told him that.” She sniffed indignantly. “I suppose he should consider himself lucky, I made his death relatively painless. You won't get that from any other Yarcka."
The barmaid overheard the last of the large saurian's adamant words and, with a stricken look, put down the double plates she was carrying before the pair and scurried off toward the kitchen with all haste, braids swinging. Though Serrtin had been exaggerating (a little) and Aya knew it, both were too busy devouring their meals to notice. It was pleasant to have someone else cook their meals for a change.
After a third of her plate of thick stew and bread was gone, a bite of seasoned meat still in her mouth, the Bren girl told her companion, "Let's try back at the Circuit Hold before heading out. It's been a couple of days perhaps something has come in. I feel lucky about it. And Agemeer said to give him at least an hour so we have plenty of time."
Her companion nodded but did not reply until the last of her food was in her belly. "Good idea. To have a job lined up right after the last one would indeed be a stroke of luck."
Aya and Serrtin finished their meals and strode out of the alehouse, scarcely noticing the people who scattered like sheep out of their path down the road. Aya used to be all too aware how the folk of different towns would look up from their tasks, eyes growing large and unfocused and finally they would scramble like mad to get out of the way. Aya used to think it was amusing but eventually it became rather sad how so many could fear things they didn't understand. Ignorance, most of the time, was what kept the 'human races' apart from the saurians like the Yarcka and even the Malorans- who were the most like humans of all the saurian species.
Not that Aya blamed the people at all. At one time, she felt pretty much the same way. At first glance, as well as second, Serrtin did cut a very impressive and imposing figure. She was taller than most Larren at a foot over three meters and set with thick layers of muscle throughout her body, which was actually a petite size for her kind. She wore a plain scuffed and scratched breastplate crossed by the straps securing her shoulder guards as well as plate armor on her thighs. The boiled leather protecting her midsection had been damaged some time ago, giving hint to the paler scaled skin beneath. Serrtin’s stature and long-bladed flamberge, not to mention the Yarcka races’ reputation for mean streaks, short tempers and pensions for hostility, kept most ne'er-do-wells at bay. Especially so for thieves, for once a rumor had been passed that a Yarcka had caught his pickpocket and proceeded to remove one of his arms for the slight, thieves altogether avoided the race. At least so in Indelsis. Other parts of the world such as Zarhethe possessed thieves who were much the less judicious.
Aya had first met Serrtin in a town not far from where they were sitting and she had not only thought the saurian was male but also the most ill-mannered crude individual ever to set foot in a civilized town. The Yarcka and her group had been terrorizing the patrons of the local alehouse, the same as where Aya had been having a quiet meal. When two of the more rowdy men began to harass the barmaids, Aya had finally had enough. Seeing the Yarcka as the rabble leader, Aya had had the gall to tell Serrtin and her band of ruffians exactly what she thought of them and their actions. In the face of greater numbers, she stood firm behind her words. Even when only fools and the dead spoke so boldly to a Yarcka.
Serrtin had taken the words as a challenge, rising to her feet and glaring down at the tiny raven-haired girl from her lofty height as the last of the remaining patrons began to vacate the vicinity. Even Serrtin's own men backed away.
Then the Yarcka began to chuckle. As the girl's eyes widened, Serrtin laughed even harder and clapped her companionably on the back. Righting Aya before she fell, Serrtin professed her correct gender and pledged her friendship almost immediately to the lass with an iron spike for a spine and fire in her blood because if there was anything a Yarcka could never respect it was a coward.
Serrtin told Aya about her life as a bounty hunter for an organization called the Circuit and, for a time, the Bren tagged along with the team on their missions. One evening after their second mission together, away from the dim red light of the campfire, the Avar swordsman who had been the ring leader in harassing the barmaids during their first encounter would not take the girl’s firm declination for an answer. It was then that Aya knew that she could count on the Yarcka warrior as not only a friend but also an ally who would stand beside her.
If it were possible for a person to die twice in a single moment then truly he did. The moment the Avar swordsman’s heart was pierced through by hard steel, his body was struck by a lethal protection spell that leapt from the girl's hands like lightning. Over his crumpled form, the girl and the Yarcka’s eyes met with mirrored expressions.
The Bren was no simple girl, she was a mage.
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