The Sins of The Brother

By R. J. Davnall

To the people of Vessit, Pevan's brother is a pariah, responsible for the Realmquake that ruined their town. Dozens are dead, hundreds injured, but Rel is the only one who might have an idea what happened. To find him, Pevan will have to face the hostility of the townsfolk and somehow recruit a Guide for a journey to the Second Realm...

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. J. Davnall
• Release date: Jan 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301998913

R. J. Davnall

R. J. Davnall is a brightly-plumed, semi-nocturnal cryptid native to northwestern England. She has been making up stories, including her own, all her life, and thus probably shouldn't be trusted to write her own bio. When disguised as a human, she is a Lecturer in Philosophy and Game Design Studies, and a member of the Olaf Stapledon Centre for Speculative Futures, at the University of Liverpool

Book preview

The Sins of the Brother

Episode 2 of The Rabbit Hole

A Story of the Second Realm

By R.J. Davnall

Published by R. J. Davnall at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 R. J. Davnall

Smashwords Edition License Notes:

This ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.

The Second Realm

Season 1: The Second Gift

Season 2: Children of the Wild

The Rabbit Hole

Episode 1: Through the Fire and Flames

http://itsthefuturestupid.blogspot.com/

Contents

The Sins of the Brother

About the Author

The Rabbit Hole

1. The Sins of the Brother

One glance at the wreckage of New Vessit took the wind right out of Pevan’s sails.

Hardly a building remained standing, and only a single mast bobbed at the wharf beyond. The town had been driftwood from the waist up anyway, but most of the houses had bits of their stonework missing as well as a pile of smashed timber where their roofs and walls should have been. The packed grit of the broad, cold street was spotted here and there with smaller debris, mainly clothing. Vessit was poor by the standards of the South, disorganised and fragile by the standards of the North. She hoped Federas had fared better.

She’d left Chag sleeping off the panic that had seized him during the quake. He’d barely been coherent when she dragged him into the hidey-hole she’d found, in the basement of a long, low building near the shorefront, in the old city. Hopefully he wouldn’t wake up while she was gone – he’d be hopeless if he did.

Early in the morning as it was, the road was deserted. The Realm hadn’t flattened out until the small hours, and probably at that point most of the townsfolk had collapsed from exhaustion where they stood. Lost and alone with Chag in the dark ruins of the old city, Pevan had certainly wished to do something similar.

A stiff spring breeze brought the sea’s cold