About The Shattered Spire:
Livia, 20, is the eldest child of the slain King Varun Kaldarion. Though the wisest and most learned of the surviving family members, tradition says she cannot inherit the throne.
Balmar, 18, is too feeble-minded to rule, but his uncle, Duke Erol, crowns him anyway in order to appoint himself regent.
Darus, 17, was exiled by the spire's magic due to his bitterness that his father never named him heir. By force of personality and skill at arms, he has risen to command the army of exiles at the fortress of East Gate. Now he plans to invade the realm and take back what he feels is rightfully his by birth.
Imric, 13, was disavowed by his father after his mother died birthing him. Raised by his sister Livia, few in the realm even know he exists. Little more than a pawn in the conflict between Duke Erol and his brother Darus, Imric may hold the key to reuniting the fractured realm.
Excerpt:
“I’m not keen on anyone wandering my castle unescorted,” the duke said.
“You do not wish the dragon slain?”
“Of course I do.” Erol began to pace along the carpeting. “But I’m not sure it can be done. Our weapons do no harm. I was told a soldier fired a scorpion bolt into the beast from short range and it could not pierce its hide.”
“You’re right,” Kathkalan said. “No weapon of man can harm the dragon. But my sword can.”
“You mentioned an exchange of aid.”
Kathkalan nodded. “An army marches toward you. I will help you against your rival.”
Duke Erol chuckled. “Forgive me, but as potent a warrior as I imagine you are, how does a single elf help me win this coming battle?”
Kathkalan felt nothing but contempt for the duke. He hated having to pretend courtesy with the man, as if they were equals. This man whose entire existence was but a single grain of sand to the vast beach of Kathkalan’s life. That the man understood nothing of what an elven warrior could do was not surprising. But he bit back the replies that sprang to his tongue and concentrated on the task at hand. “What do you feel, Duke Erol?”
“I don’t understand what you are playing at.”
“Your heart is not beating fast, so it would be very faint, but you should still be able to feel it.”
Duke Erol glared at the elf, then stopped pacing and seemed to concentrate for a moment. His eyes widened. “Just a small tingle, as of the old magic that is lost. Is that it?”
Kathkalan pulled forth the shard of crystal on its chain. “This came from your spire after it was destroyed. The area it affects is not large, but it may be greatly beneficial in battle. Your opponents are those who were driven away by the magic. They will be weakened when they draw near, just as your warriors will be strengthened.”
Duke Erol took a step closer, then hesitated. He held a hand up near the crystal. “May I?”
Kathkalan removed the chain from around his neck and held it out. The duke took it and walked over to an arrow slit to examine the crystal in the sunlight. He looked long and hard before turning back to the elf. “I apologize if I was brusque earlier. This would be very helpful indeed. If we may use this in the coming fight, I give you leave to look over my castle. If you need help building your trap, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Kathkalan gave a tiny bow of his head to Duke Erol and reached out for the shard. The duke hesitated for a moment and took another look at the crystal before handing it back.
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