The Broken Rose

By Jeremy Forsyth

The Elder has returned. The Karnaea tournaments have begun and Stasanda and Jaydan want the full experience but are unaware of what will soon develop between them when their paths cross. In the city of Evennal, where the Karnaea is set to begin, love is awakened as mistrust stirs and prowling the streets at night, a blademaster hunts all who would seek to befoul the name of the Whispering God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeremy Forsyth
• Release date: Oct 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370540228

Jeremy Forsyth

Jeremy Forsyth is the author of The Sun, Moon, Sand, and Star series, which include The Evening Tide, The Broken Rose, The Missing, The Raven Heiress, and The Little Fairleaf. To get his books cheaper than you would on Amazon, simply visit www.jeremyforsyth.co.za now! But if you want the books but don't want to spend, check out Jeremy Forsyth's current promotions and giveaways: The Sun, Moon, Sand, and Star Giveaway: https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/1126895-the-sun-moon-sand-and-star-series-giveaway Otherwise, you can find him on social media: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jeremy-Forsyth-103933844788832 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jays_andrew/?hl=en

Book preview

The Broken Rose

Jeremy Forsyth

Copyright 2018 Jeremy Forsyth

Cover illustration & Design: Demi Thompson

Illustration: Althea Botha

By Jeremy Forsyth

~

The Sun Moon Sand and Star

The Evening Tide

The Broken Rose

The Missing

The Raven Heiress

The Little Fairleaf

The Other Fairleaf

A Symphony of Shadow and Darkness

Upon the Sands

Even by the slightest prick to the heart, deep enough that it would bleed, one would possess enough resolve to conquer the very world in order to bind up that wound and gain some relief.

— Silverus Risingmoon, late bladewatcher of Senistar Underhill the Destroyer.

Contents

Foreword

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Foreword

In the year, 4000.AL, the Elder of the Moon Elves, Dayane Lowvilla Lightmarsh I, fell in the Battle of the Nesvalor River, fighting against the invading armies of Gathe. The Throne Chronicles would record how, The Elder of Alepion, upon leading the charge of his vanguard, cried out in all earnest and anguish, ‘Brothers! Brothers!’ when seeing half his crescents desert him at the behest of one Phanorrion Bloodsun, who would subsequently be labelled The Betrayer.

Dayane’s nine-year-old son would succeed his father as Elder Dayane Lowvilla Lightmarsh II. Under the command of Alepion’s newest blademaster, Senistar Underhill, Dayane II would drive the Gatheian armies from his realm, would follow them to their island, and with unfailing resolve, and for over eight years, Dayane would administer his vengeance upon them.

Dayane would return to Alepion a hero, and in the year 4020.AL would rally his army once more, leading them east to the Middle Islands, which over the centuries, has gradually become an extension of the fabled Sun Elf Realm; Kaan Fulas.

It is now the year 4132.AL and Elder Dayane has returned home victorious, having claimed the Middle Islands after pushing the Sun Elves back to their eternal dwellings, establishing Moon dominance from coast to coast.

Nearing his Realm, Dayane publishes his desire to commemorate his victory during the Karnaea tournaments, which every year runs in celebration of Liberation Day. However, the Elder has commissioned that instead of the Karnaea taking place in the capital city of Lowvilla, where it is traditionally held, it will be the Asher Rise city of Evennal that will host it.

Chapter 1

The mouth of the gorge opened wide, allowing two gentle rivers to spew out from its depth like the split tongue of a serpent. Stasanda was looking down at it from the edge of the cliff but soon turned around, focused on the regional capital of Asher Rise, the City of Evennal.

Pivoting skywards against the cliffs that encircled the shadowy valley, the City of Evennal ensnared the people’s gaze, having high and silver walls that surrounded the city’s focal point - the seat of the Deacon of Asher Rise, Evennal’s palatial Greathouse.

The Greathouse was a tall and elegant tower that, near its peak, was thrust into the side of the cliff, making up the only entrance into the halls, chambers, and vaults that were burrowed deep into the rock. Admittedly, Stasanda had seen it all before, but since those around her remained enthralled, she found that their preoccupation had her engrossed too.

She went briskly ahead of her company so that she might escape the light rain that fell from the grey sky. When she saw the number of people lined up before the city gate, Stasanda narrowed her gaze, considering for the first time since hearing that the Karnaea would be held in the city, that perhaps she had underestimated the scale of extravagance in which the celebrations were bound to take. It was as if the entire country were now pouring into Evennal.

Stasanda found the back of the line and came to stand behind a very tall elvess. Behind her, a couple whispered to each other, the pair seemingly distressed and struggling to suppress their growing franticness.

Did you pack the Salin? the elvess asked in a low voice, referring to the Realm’s primary religious book, of which the Moon Elves of Alepion stoutly believed was the very Word of the Whispering God, His actual recorded Voice. The elvess’s nervous- sounding united-one, a term reserved for one’s spouse of matrimony, replied hastily.

Yes, I did!

If the sentinels suspect us of being members of the Old Way, they will not allow us into the city!

Stasanda frowned, but when she angled her head around the tall elvess in front of her, she understood why the couple had started fretting. At Evennal’s gate, there were many sentinel guards, warriors who acted as the Realm’s law enforces; theirs was the responsibility of maintaining peace and order in the cities, the glades and the roads that were spread out far and wide across the country.

Even quieter now, almost as if a warning to her united-one, Stasanda heard the elvess vow, I will not have these people around us think that we belong to that cult!

The cult was the infamous Old Way, a league of devout worshippers of the old gods, or as they were more commonly known: the Dead Gods. The Old Way was dedicated to the reinstating of the old gods, pursuing this by waging an eternal war against those who followed the Whispering God, Adonai.

Stasanda took a step forward when the line began to shorten, maintaining a casualness in which the fretful couple behind her were failing to uphold. Her heart started racing as she studied the interactions convening at the city gate; she had nothing but her word to convince the sentinels that she was not a member of the Old Way.

Do these sentinels not know that the city will soon have a blademaster?

The deriding remark came from the elvess standing in front of Stasanda, the tall one who was just now shaking her head.

Perhaps they think the Realm is still at war? Stasanda suggested.

The tall elvess turned to regard her, smiling as awkwardly as one would upon new encounters. Well, perhaps when you arrive at the front, you could promptly remind them that we aren’t?

Stasanda smiled in turn and tried to think of a quick and witty retort. They need to believe that I am not part of the Old Way before I can even think to educate them, feeling slightly unimpressed with her response.

The elvess chuckled, and then gestured towards the gate. Well, you better prepare your argument soon. These sentinels are becoming ridiculous.

Stasanda saw why the elvess thought so - there was already a protesting elf being dragged away from Evennal.

No! he screamed. No! I am not of the Old Way! Adonai reigns! No! Get your hands off me!

The elf continued to struggle, earning the vexation of his handlers, the sentinels showing little leniency when dropping him hard on the floor, one of them slamming a heavy knee down onto the elf’s chest. When the elf raised his hands in capitulation, his handler got up, casting one last sneer upon him before he and his companion turned around.

Stasanda pitted the elf, who was now afflicted with suspicious implications which would cling to him if he did not get as far away from the city as quickly as possible. Such was all their fate should the sentinels presume to judge them