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Druan Episode 6: Secrets
Druan Episode 6: Secrets
Druan Episode 6: Secrets
Ebook50 pages45 minutes

Druan Episode 6: Secrets

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Darkness consumed the world for centuries, under thick black clouds that blocked the sun. Without light, the plants withered and died, and the animals starved. Few survived in this wasteland of night. With a final, desperate effort, the shamans gathered together to form a great chant. They gave their lives to open the clouds and let sunlight shine back on the world.

When the scattered remnants of humanity step from the dark, with nothing but their wits and the waning power of an old shaman to protect them, they are faced with a cracked, lifeless desert. Led by a child, guided by the spirits, their deeds will become myth.

To survive, they must train a new generation of shamans to face the coming dangers. Thirteen students to guide the people into a new age. And, of those students, two young sisters will grow to stand at the heart of a legend.

Each episode is written as a short story, to be read in a few hours, but together they tell the story of two sisters growing up in a new world and facing responsibilities and dangers.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMark Robson
Release dateNov 17, 2016
ISBN9781370121106
Druan Episode 6: Secrets

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    Book preview

    Druan Episode 6 - Mark Robson

    Druan Episode 6: Secrets

    By Mark Robson

    Copyright 2016 Mark Robson

    Smashwords Edition

    #

    Cover Art by Alan Mence

    Cover Text by James Eden

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    Autumn

    The Age of the Sun, Year Six

    A cold wind chased through the village, whistling between narrowly spaced huts and scratching dirt against walls. It tugged at dry grass and rattled reed-woven doors. It gusted over the temple, guttering the prayer fires as they burned low after the morning ritual.

    Jayenne walked along Main Street, doing her best to disguise her slight limp. She refused to use a stick to help her walk, despite the ache that quickly formed in her calf. Her faded purple dress covered her to her ankles to hide the misshapen lump of muscle.

    Main Street had changed over the last few years. The path, somewhat wider than most routes between the huts, traced a gentle curve through the centre of the village. It connected the prayer field and the nearby storehouse to the crop fields in the east, and was constantly in use during daylight hours. Sections were paved with sheared slate, allowing sure footing even after heavy rain.

    A new building stood on Main Street, wide and low. Its long walls were painted white, and its thatched reed roof was twice as thick as was normal. The newest techniques were employed in its construction. It was the first building to have windows, square holes in the walls which could be blocked by inserting thick wooden panels. A painted symbol by the door, concentric golden circles, marked the building as a house of healing.

    Builders had to demolish several surrounding huts to make room for the new hospital, but there were no complaints. Hazaara’s tireless work with the sick and injured made this one of the few projects the entire village could happily support.

    Jayenne stepped inside, pulled the reed door shut, and paused to tidy her wind-blown hair. On days like this, she really should take the time to have it braided, like Coralyn, but Jayenne preferred it hanging loose. If it would only stay out of her face.

    A fire burned in a depression at the centre of the hospital, lined with large stones, warming the room and Hazaara’s patients. Smoke disappeared through an opening in the thatched roof. A rough stone bench stood against one wall, one heavy slab resting on a pair of thick square supports. Clay bowls and beakers filled the space beneath the bench, containing various powders, leaves and berries. Six thick reed mattresses encircled the fire, heads against the wall. Linen sheets and bandages piled in the corners of the hut, alongside bowls of clean water.

    Only two beds were in use. Hazaara knelt beside a sleeping man, her short white dress clean for once, as she replaced a bloody bandage on his arm. An accident while practicing spears with Tobian. Hazaara looked up and smiled as Jayenne entered. She returned the smile and moved to the other occupied bed.

    Tanivednor lay on his back, linen sheets pulled up to his neck. He was wide awake, but stared blankly up at the ceiling. His mouth moved soundlessly. They had moved him as soon as the hospital was completed, as many villagers expressed concerns over him living unattended out by the fields. Jayenne had long held the suspicion that he was put out of the way to die, so people would not have to deal with his illness, but since he had stubbornly refused, they had finally brought him back into the village.

    Jayenne eased herself down to sit beside him. She had not been able to visit him for a few days, a combination of the harvest and some extra lessons Morvadannon had thrust upon the students.

    Hello Tanivednor,

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