Myral

Prologue

Prologue

The early winter breeze carried his song through the branches of the black willow. It sang of his life and death and of the regret that he carried to his grave. The leaves of the bowing tree caressed the ground where his body lay encased in earth, and its catkins tumbled to the grass around him. Silently she stood beside his grave, a white rose clasped between her trembling fingers. She ignored the swell of rising tears and the pain of his abandonment, and continued to watch the clouds drift aimlessly across oil stained sky. The birds, shrouded in sorrow added their chorus to his song, as finally Nihriya’s grey eyes came to rest upon the spot where her father slept.

The sound of her gentle, grief laden sigh was captured by the petals of the rose that stood guard over his slumber. Early morning dew clung to the velvet of its leaves like diamonds that glistened in the light. Quietly, she bent to one knee and traced her fingers over the stone that bore his name; Lucian. The stone, despite being ravaged by elements and time, felt smooth beneath her finger-tips.

She placed the rose atop his grave and pressed her lips to her father’s headstone. In that instant the birds fell silent. The breeze became still, and in the blissful peace she could almost hear his voice. A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. It fell from her chin and splashed against the petal of the white rose, staining it forevermore.

The raven haired woman bowed her head and mumbled a prayer to Lord Aeron, the bringer of Death and the keeper of lost souls, before standing and leaving the solitude of the informal graveyard. Her horse, a mare as black as the midnight skies stood waiting for her near the rusting gates. The animal neighed softly as Nihriya climbed into the soft, worn saddle at its back. She looked back at the grim hilltop with sadness and then guided the creature away from all that remained of House Myral in the Thorn River Mountains.