**BOOK 1 IN THE TALES FROM DROMISSE SERIES**
Silvia considers herself the luckiest woman in all Dromisse. Her soon-to-be fiancé, Duncan Ora, is a candidate for Light Within, the greatest gift that the Almighty Gale can bestow upon someone. Then a ra...
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Day 210, Year 981
Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't blink. Hold the magic in, hold the storm in, don't let it out.
His knees ache, and his neck throbs. It's all he can focus on. Pain, and stiffness. He kneels on a cushion beside a white marble altar, his body strained from being bent over it for so long. He clasps his hands atop the cold stone and watches speckles float in his vision. He's not breathing deeply enough to properly oxygenate his body, and it causes his face to tingle with weakness. Every one of his muscles is tightened to the snapping point. The only sound that fills his ears is the whir of his heart and the rumble of thunder. Don't let it out—
A door in front of him opens, and a parade of color marches through. Three individuals with chromatic bodies walk in, with a fourth trailing several paces behind. They each bear the prestigious white robes of Light Within, coupled with scarlet sashes and gleaming blue necklaces. He knows who they are: the High Council. Nella Lein, Indra Cobalt, and Erebus Tizian, followed by Prophet Astraya herself.
All his life he's admired them.
Now, he's terrified of them.
Councilor Lein steps forward, her waist-length hair shifting airily like a sheer curtain. "Duncan Ora," she says. "You may stand."
Duncan pushes his palms against the altar to aid his efforts, and he nearly collapses when the numbness in his feet is replaced with jabbing pins and needles. His veins come alive all at once, stagnant blood creeping under unfeeling skin. A twist in his esophagus bobs every time he swallows, frantic storm clouds spiraling in his stomach. Hold it in, hold it in, hold it in ...
"The Council has reached a final verdict concerning your case," Lein says.
Case? What case? What did he do wrong? Why won't anyone tell him?
"Majority rules that you will not be given the punishment of Dark Within."
Duncan's eyes wander past the shoulders of the three Councilors. He meets Prophet Astraya's glare. Her entire body is a solid red color, down to the sclera of her eyes. Her firm expression is heavy on his shoulders, and he angles his head away, unable to bear the weight of it.
"Can I ..." Duncan's words turn to glue and gum up his mouth. His jaw becomes sticky and immovable, his lips sealed together.
"Councilor Cobalt will escort you to your parents." Lein gestures to a man with a long face and a jagged widow's peak. Cobalt's hawkish blue eyes are colder than steel, his pointed brows downturned into a blistering scowl.
Duncan doesn't relish the thought of being led around by this man; however, when Cobalt crosses the room and exits—not even stopping to gesture to him—he finds life in his petrified limbs and bolts.
Duncan watches the walls while he walks three steps behind Cobalt. Glittering mosaics cover the hallway, depicting various scenes of a winged blue humanoid among the nature of Dromisse. Most of the scenes are radiant and beautiful. One catches his attention above the others: a smear of black tiles arranged in the shape of a winged serpent with piercing red eyes and teeth. A dragon. The serpent's jaws are splayed out in agony as the blue being runs it through with a sword. It entrances Duncan so much that he almost walks into Cobalt.
