Dawn of Adakia by R.K. Lander

Author:R.K. Lander [Lander, R.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dragons & Mythical Creatures, Epic Fantasy
Publisher: Publisher
Published: 2024-10-15T05:00:00+00:00

It was just after dawn.

On a normal day, Fel’annár would return from the Dohai, half naked and smirking at her. He would kiss her lips and she would revel in his eternal regard for her. Instead, she looked down at the pale warrior beside her, face pinched even in sleep, induced though it was. She’d drugged him to stop him from moving and pulling on the stitches she had given him by the glow of nothing but a paltry fire Turion had managed to light, despite the dampness. Luckily, the forest was rich in herbs and roots, and she had foraged for them in the dark while Turion kept watch. Now, he sat with a spare shirt wrapped around his waist, watching as she worked on Fel’annár. The garment was hardly necessary. She was a healer, didn’t give a hoot about naked men in her presence, unless it was Fel’annár.

Dipping a cloth in water that Turion had collected the night before, she wiped Fel’annár’s brow, then sat back. His wounds were substantial, but not enough to kill him. Still, he was neither walking nor riding anywhere today. It was Talanor who worried her now. He was without his parents for the first time since Resurrection, and although he was brave, he was still only ten summers old, not as tough as he sometimes wanted to appear. It was a silent game they played, one in which Talanor thought his mother overprotective, which she was. She tried to hide her worry by pretending that she wasn’t, something Talanor often picked up on. But how could she tell him of the horrors she had endured during his transition? How could she explain the anguish in her mind, what it had done to her, how she battled every day to rid herself of the ghosts that were still there, if not quite as intrusive and paralysing as they had once been.

She shifted, the soft noise enough to wake Turion. She watched him move, grimace, then try to hide it from her. He glanced at her, met her knowing smirk.

“Drink some of that.” She pointed to a cup that sat to one side.

“It’s cold.”

“Doesn’t matter. It will take the edge off the pain.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Llyniel snorted. “Try that on someone else.”

Turion looked indignant for all of one second, until he smiled ruefully and stretched painfully.

“How is he?”

“Sleeping for the moment. He’s out of the woods, figuratively, at least.”

Turion puffed a laugh, finally pulling himself into a sitting position. Reaching for the cup, he drank, brows furrowed, then coughed as he dragged his arm over his mouth.

“Deviant piss.”

“Revenant piss would be more fitting for Naz’arán.”

Turion nodded. “We need to plan, and there are two things we must necessarily procure. Supplies, and help.”

Llyniel nodded. “I suppose we assume Angon and Talanor are safe somewhere, heading west to Greenleaves?”

“Only one good thing came out of last night. We were heading for Greenleaves on that boat. Depending on where they came ashore, they might even make it there today.

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