One war. Two Sisters. One end.
There is no running from it. Fate shall have its way as both daughters of Stormband take to the field of battle. Each with one goal - vengeance.
Approximately 130k words.
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The source of evil lies not in the Heavens, or in The Dark, but within the souls of all men and women. Human, elf, and dwarf alike. We simply prefer to blame divine forces for our own failings.
Crovus Trunsdun, Steward of the Fourth Crimson Throne, 5814-5828 GR
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Her hands wringing themselves raw, Daphney's feet simultaneously wore a path back and forth across the floor.
Sayra reiterated her previous request, made numerous times already, to the cleric. "Please, you should lie down and continue to rest." Rolling front to back in an antique rocker, creaking with every year of its seven generations of use by members of the family once residing here, Sayra stroked the scales on the back of her pet blue dragon. Sheetah sat curled up in her lap and on the verge of sleep as the methodical rocking mirrored Daphney's own pace.
"I can't." Daphney abandoned the uncomfortable bed not long after fully regaining her senses. For two days straight, she'd been caught in this constant cycle of needing to move in between brief moments of fitful sleep. The worst migraine she ever experienced was pounding on her head like it was a drum, while her body felt as though an entire convoy of military supply wagons had run her over; twice.
The modest residence in Telga was nothing of significance. In all, it was quite plain. While certainly less prone to drafts than the moth hole riddled tents she's lived in since Rwan came to her village and she'd left to join the rebellion, it never really held any sense of home to her.
The owner abandoned the dwelling to the cleric when she arrived, and once her and Gwen Havarston came to an accord about how things would operate between the two of them. The man had not relocated his family out of threat of force or even upon request, but out of servitude and reverence. And ever since, she'd lived here while he, his wife, and their only child moved in with neighbors and into an equally small home that was most likely way too crowded at this moment.
This was someone else's home, and it would never be hers.
But the local man wouldn't take no for an answer. And not wanting to sound rude, Daphney accepted the offer. She'd come to accept that some people were devout enough in their faith that they would not be satisfied until they'd done something they considered right. No matter the cost to themselves. And, for a brief moment, she thought of Trast and his sacrifice.
