Spirit Guide

Spirit Guide

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Apr 23, 2020
He was lost. There was no one around and he didn't know which wat he came and which way he was meant to be going. But he knew he was not alone. There was too much noise for him to be alone. Snapping twigs, hooting owls, snorting deer; so many animals yet he felt so abandoned. Of all things he expected to happen, even after everything he had been through, this was the last thing on the list. However, it still occurred. He slumped down against a tree, careful not to damage the tree or too much of the foliage underneath. Staring ahead, he wrapped himself up in the fleece blanket, waiting for the sign he wanted. Hours passed, the night growing colder and darker, until he was shivering uncontrollably. All the animals stayed away, hearing his teeth clatter against one another. As his eyes adjusted, he finally saw what he was waiting for. The blue eyes came out of the bushes, unblinking. He felt a spark ignite within him. Hope.
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Book 1 of Rewritten: The Inamorate Saga. The great reveal had been beneficial for some. Elves, particularly, with their beauty and grace and quiet manipulation of the world around them. They thrived in the light, able to infiltrate human structure with ease, carving out a place for their kind at the most crucial of times. Their leaders set down territory lines, segregating cities and even states for themselves, for the growth of their people. They flourished, building their empire on the backs of those withered beneath. Fae, however, didn't find such a foothold. They remained in the darkness, hidden away in the tangles of forest untouched by humans, trapped within their clans. The dark ages reigned through those woodlands, void of modern technology and any shade of defiance. Monarchs ruled, surrounded by warriors, enforcing their law upon the common people. Outside, there was talk of abuse, of forced subjugation, whispers from those fae that had made it, that had escaped. Salem had chosen to remain silent. Five years had passed, not a soul knew of the clan he had fled. He had a family, three brothers who had taken him in, who had chosen to house him rather than barter money for the purity he still held. There was a normality to the world, to the life that Salem had forged. There was no reason for change, nothing to draw him back into that inky abyss he had clawed out of. Nothing but a tree flowering ivory petals housed in the estate of one of the most influential elves in their city...

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