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Logline
A brave warrior is transported to a strange and magical world where she discovers that she must overcome new hardships in order to return home before it is destroyed.
Blurb
A world on the brink of destruction, one warrior must find the strength to face her greatest challenge yet. When Lyra, a skilled fighter, is suddenly transported to a magical realm filled with danger and wonder, she knows that she must find a way back home before it's too late. But the path ahead is treacherous, and Lyra must overcome new hardships and obstacles at every turn.
In this epic tale of romance, adventure, and fantasy, Lyra discovers that the true strength she seeks comes not from her sword, but from within herself. Filled with magic, danger, and the healing power of self-discovery.
~Chapter One~
"You would send us all to slaughter! Only more blood and death awaits us. We cannot win," Chief Rolan bellowed, his massive, beefy hands crashing down on the rickety war table. The worn wood creaked under the force of his frustration. Spread upon it was a large map of Harleath, where the image of their once sprawling and plentiful borders now bore the scars of the fallen and the relentless advance of their enemy.
"Hold your tongue, Rolan. I will no longer tolerate your cowardice," Efrun retorted, her frown deepening as she deftly twirled a shiny dagger in the palm of her hand. Her face, full and bronzed by the sun's caress, held an air of determination. Shaven on the right side, her scalp revealed the six raised skin lines that were proudly shared by most Cantie women.
"I am no coward. No man or woman with Beflui blood coursing through their veins can be accused of such," Rolan argued, his eyes darting around the room, silently pleading for understanding. His fear was palpable, his voice tinged with desperation. "How many more of us must die? We are losing this war, and I refuse to witness my people's downfall, like the tragic fate of the Entwa."
Lyra cast her gaze upon the remnants of Harleath's once formidable villages, now reduced to mere fragments of their former strength. The survivors clung to their tenuous existence by a thread, their resolve diminished. They stood as a ragtag assembly of rebellion fighters, outnumbered and outmatched. Yet Lyra knew in her heart that to halt their advance would render all their sacrifices meaningless.
"What kind of life do you envision if we were to cease our fight now? The Entwa, the mightiest among us, were mercilessly cut down in less than two days! We have not crumbled because we stood united. If we yield now, all the sacrifices made by our people will be in vain," Lyra declared, her voice steady and resolute. She locked eyes with the four remaining Chiefs, urging them to understand the gravity of their situation.
"Lyra speaks the truth," Chief Mone affirmed, his weary breaths betraying the exhaustion etched upon his face from his battle-worn body. His son, Mula, swiftly moved to assist him, their determination interwoven. "I know not how much sand remains in the hourglass of my life, but I will continue to fight for our people. The Monta will stand shoulder to shoulder with Chief Lyra and the Werlayli, for they are the sole reasons that we endure."
