Volume 3 of 'The Book of Terrus' series.
After the Battle of Trosk, Tarun Thrymmson has been made a reluctant recruit for the royal army of Goran. With his sister halfway across the world falling deeper and deeper into the cause of the rebel Factio...
Lhara's voice echoed back to her off the damp stone walls of the tunnel. The air was cold down here, deep in the bedrock beneath the foundations of Hashodi. Outside it was nightfall; soon the bonfires would be lit. There would be music and feasting and dancing, all underpinned by the half-wistful, half-delirious sense that these things would soon belong to days past. Some among the revelers gathering in the forest glades above might not even live to see another gathering such as this.
For now though, Lhara and Jath were not among the growing crowd. Instead they followed the All-Seer down dark and winding paths, the pale blue glow of her lantern their only guide. Margalee's robe trailed through shallow pools of water, disrupting thin layers of ice only for their frosty sheen to be restored seconds later.
"This, Wise Woman, is a place not unlike the caves outside your ancestors' city of Anset. They, like the northerners, left their marks on the stone for others to read even centuries later. Look."
Margalee lifted her lantern overhead. The painted eyes - one black, one white - of her mask gleamed, and for a moment Lhara imagined the All-Seer's metallic gaze could actually see them. Then she followed her outstretched finger to where Margalee was pointing at the tunnel wall.
Though they were faded and old, chipped in some places and overgrown by violet moss in others, the twisting coils of a sea serpent were unmistakable. Giants there were also, looming large beside a snarling dragon and the near-indistinct outline of a wind wraith.
"Wait...are those...?"
"The Ancient Ones, yes." Margalee nodded, knowing exactly what it was that Lhara was seeing without having eyes of her own. "The first inhabitants of Terra Erda."
"I've heard that name before! An old Undorian woman mentioned it to me once; she said it meant 'Mother World'."
"The people of Undor have memories nearly as long as the people of the north," replied Margalee.
Jath, who until now had been watching and listening quietly, let out a small gasp. Head cocked, his pale brow furrowed, he made as if to lay a hand upon one painted figure in particular. It was one of a group, and Lhara gasped aloud too when she realized what it was that Jath was seeing.
"Who are they?" asked Jath, voice tight and full of emotion.
The All-Seer smiled. "Those, Áesir, are the Children of Magic. Those are your people."
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Volume 4 of 'The Book of Terrus', 'Rising Tides, Falling Stars' now on Wattpad!
