Broken Things 7.09 – Erik

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Most of the monsters you will meet look just like you and me, son.   


Erik hoped that his relationship with Hanna would go smoothly, and since his first resurrection, it seemed to do so. He hoped that it would even as she glared up at him from the bed, clothed in a sheer, white nightgown, cheeks flushed with rage, eyes manic with pain. Lightning crackled outside the arrow-slits, bright enough to battle with the glow of the fireplace. Wind lashed the curtains and rain wailed out in the night, turning the silence into a mournful dirge. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.09 – Erik”


Broken Things 7.08 – Hanna

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They say the Howling Sea is a collection of humanities tears, and on days like this one I can’t help but believe it.   


Hanna’s heart clutched with sorrow as she slammed the anteroom door in Erik’s face. The hallway blurred. She blinked away tears and ran. It was happening again, betrayal and lies. Her green slippers smacked against the hard stone, echoing with each frantic palpitation. The torches that adorned the walls were a collection of moon shards, cold enough to freeze magma into ice, distant enough that their chill was barely perceived. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.08 – Hanna”

Broken Things 7.07 – Leon

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Pain and suffering are endless pools, no matter how deep you descend, there is always more.   


A flicker of movement caught Leon’s eye, and he peered past the twitching Mrethren. A handful of Gray Skins were moving slowly toward them, only a few at the start, but soon their numbers swelled and spread out to surround the edge of the wardstones protective bubble. A muted buzz rose from their alien throats. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.07 – Leon”

Broken Things 7.06 – Leon

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I’m not afraid; my feet just like shaking is all.


Walking up the underground staircase of the ancient temple, Leon could not help but tremble. In his short life, he had been through many harrowing experiences, but none of them equaled the terror of following Mrethren Örk by himself. Large indistinct shapes watched him from darkened doorways, the sound of their harsh breaths rising above his careful footsteps. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.06 – Leon”

Broken Things 7.05 – Erik

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Author Note: For every 50 people that signup to my Mailing List, I will release an extra chapter on Thursdays. For a limited time only. (Count: 2/50)

For the God Touched the endless paths all lead home.


Seated in a high-backed chair in front of the fireplace, Erik tried to drown his worries in a bowl of red wine. It was not working. Oh, the wine was as delicious as anything anyone could expect to get this far north, and a couple bowls of wine was usually good enough to take his mind off any problem. But this was his sixth, and he felt nothing. Nothing. His balder was not even full. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.05 – Erik”

Broken Things 7.04 – Cecilia

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May our next reunion be grander than our last.   


In the dim, cold light of the winding corridor, Cecilia walked with a growing sense of impatience. The fortress was too large, and she had already been on her feet for what seemed like hours. Half a ring of black-coat men preceded her down the hallway, drawing the attention of the liveried servants they passed. She peered at them to gauge reactions, measured expressions by the meter stick she kept in her mind. The Game of Faces demanded as much of any who dared called themselves Players. From what she could gather, there was still much confusion among the servants. She imagined the stories about the battle and its subsequent conclusion had grown longer in the retelling. But she pushed their apparent fears out her mind, the governing of the fortress was not her concern. Her concern lay entirely on the woman she was on her way to meet. The Princess. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.04 – Cecilia”

Broken Things 7.03 – Erik

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Author Note: For every 50 people that signup to my Mailing List, I will release an extra chapter on Thursdays. For a limited time only.

Between victory and defeat lies a single line.


Erik grimaced and pressed a hand to the hole in his belly, his head still ringing with echoes of his father’s voice. Crimson trickled down his fingers, but the wound was already half healed. It bled only because he wanted it to, needed it to maintain the illusion of his humanity. What he did, he did to protect his path to the throne, even now when all his plans lay ruined. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.03 – Erik”