The Harrowing Path by Cleave Bourbon

Author:Cleave Bourbon [Bourbon, Cleave]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wizards, sword and sorcery, dragons, dark fantasy, coming of age, seer, witches, Shifter, magic, shape shifter
Publisher: Shadesilver Publishing
Published: 2019-04-23T16:00:00+00:00

DEVYN ROUSED FROM A fitful, tenuous sleep to the sound of shouts and a ringing bell. Two days had passed since the Sea Hag had left the port of Symbor, and from the commotion on deck, they were nearing the port of Adrontear in southern Adracoria. The storm from two nights ago had blown them to their destination sooner than anticipated. Devyn quickly dressed himself and met Vesperin, Rennon, and Kelle on deck. None of them had ever been out of Symboria, and the chance to see a new port made the four giddy with excitement and anticipation.

At first, Devyn could not make out the lighthouse of Adrontear, but as the ship drew nearer, he saw the immensity of it. On a rocky cliff, the lighthouse stood to let ships navigate the rocky enclosure to the port. It stood as a pure stone spire, stretching upward and outward. Its grey appearance gleamed in the morning sun, and its white cap reflected out to sea. The port itself was much different from the one in Symbor. Twice the number of ships lined its docks. Devyn counted more than two dozen different designs. The pier was painted a brilliant white instead of the dingy brown of Symbor, and the merchant houses were cleaner and painted with bright blues and greens.

The Sea Hag docked near a merchant ship twice the size of the Tiger’s Head Inn and just as tall. “I never dreamed a port could be so...” Devyn began.

“Beautiful,” Kelle finished.

“And elegant. Look at the woodwork on the railing of the pier,” Vesperin said.

“This is where we depart,” Lady Shey said. “Gondrial is taking care of our baggage, so we can go ahead and meet Ianthill.”

“Where is Ianthill?” Kelle asked.

Lady Shey looked around the docks for a moment and then pointed. “That’s him, right over there.”

All four turned and squinted to see the ancient wielder.

“You mean the man in the ragged hat?” Rennon asked.

“Well, the correct term would be elf in the ragged hat, but yes. That is Ianthill.”

Devyn could not make out the features of the elf at first, but as the dock master pointed Ianthill toward the Sea Hag and he approached, his features became more explicit. He wore crimson red robes and smoked a long pipe. His ragged brown, wide-brimmed hat sat on top of his white and blond-haired head. He walked with a dark red wooden staff with a large crimson crystal affixed to the top. He wore no facial hair, but as he came nearer, Devyn could see his hair was of some length.

“Greetings, Lady Shey.” He took her hand and kissed it. “It has been far too long.”

Lady Shey curtsied. “Well met, Keeper of the Isle. I trust you are well.”

“Aye, I am as well as a young stag on a spring day, and what of you?”

“I am well; thank you.”

Ianthill looked at the ship, his blue eyes sparkling in the morning sun. “Where is that rebellious apprentice of mine?” he asked.

“I am here, my master,” Gondrial said as he left the gangplank.

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