Bloodlines and Legacies by David Partelow

Author:David Partelow [Partelow, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

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With heavy eyes, Wyndall of the Jacoi clans observed the men under his command as they lazed about campfires, eating and drinking on the eve of battle. The night was clear, yet the darkness was haunting within the barren streets of Vallance’s fallen capital. Like Alderich and Enora, Bannar had been one of the first victims of the war, and now it stood like the statues of the Ashener bloodline as a memorial to those lost in battle.

A loss that continued, even now.

Wyndall’s feelings stretched out across the camp and his fists clenched. He hated what he felt, for morale was dangerously low. The men and women who fought with him knew the score. Soon they would face a daunting foe, and the outcome of their struggle would more than likely mean the difference between absolute victory and utter defeat.

It was a terrible burden to bear.

Wyndall cleared his throat to address his Ro’Nihn. “Open the last of the food stores and the spirits. Make sure everyone is well fed on this night.” The Ro’Nihn dispersed quickly, seeing his will done.

“Is that wise?” asked Kascha. She was resting under a blanket, taking turns between watching the fire and Wyndall.

Wyndall nodded in response. “It is. I mean to let our people have rest and full refreshment tonight. The food reserves will not matter after that, for if we lose tomorrow, we’ll all be dead regardless.”

“Well, isn’t that a lovely thought,” breathed Shan. The newly appointed Ro’Nihn sat on a chair he had found in the rubble, resting his chin on the handle of his sword Modasta.

“The truth is the truth, and it cares little for our feelings in its regard,” said Layric Running Crow. The man sat near the fire, legs crossed as he sharpened his dagger.

“He’s not wrong, I’m afraid,” sighed Kascha. Tlaloc and Annai both grunted affirmations as Annai drank from one of her skins and passed it around the fire.

Wyndall took a pull from the skin as it reached him, grimacing briefly at the volatile liquid practically exploded down his throat. “This might be hotter than the flames,” he said.

“Annai’s specialty,” said Tlaloc.

Wyndall winced as he passed the skin to Shan. “That stuff could kill or raise the dead,” he said before watching Shan drink. The new Ro’Nihn fought a fit of coughing as he tried to recover. “I was not exaggerating, Shan Fellar.”

“I regret that you weren’t,” rasped Shan as he passed the skin to Kascha.

Kascha took a long drink before wiping her mouth and passing the skin to Layric, seemingly unfazed by the potent liquor. “Part of me hopes you are right in a way, Wyndall. This war needs to be done. Too much blood has been spilled, and for far too long we have wrestled with the evils of Thorne.”

To this, Layric grunted. “Thorne is not evil by nature. It has simply been corrupted. Leaders like the brother of Alderich spread fear and crack their whips. The soldiers obey, afraid of the enemy and the yokes that guide them to war.

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