Cast out. Thrown away. Shipwrecked.
Elowen finds herself in the Elven Realm, a land of magic at the cusp of a war between two kingdoms.
The kingdom of Valdis is being ravaged by a blight. A blight that has infected every edible plant and now is affecting its subjectâs health. Lilja is the Queen of the failing kingdom. She stands with her chosen family to salvage whatâs left of her home.
Ardour is a kingdom at the height of prosperity. But at what cost? Queen Alieta is beloved by all of her subjects. Yet she stands alone on the throne. Ignorance clouds her judgment, shadowed.
Thrusted in the middle, Elowen is alone and afraid and unsure of whom to trust. Who can she trust? Will Elowen be able to unravel the mystery of the blight that spans hundreds of years? Even with a blooming romance in her midst?
Cast out. Thrown away. Shipwrecked.
Elowen finds herself in the Elven Realm, a land of magic at the cusp of a war between two kingdoms.
The kingdom of Valdis is being ravaged by a blight. A blight that has infected every edible plant and now is affecting its subjectâs health. Lilja is the Queen of the failing kingdom. She stands with her chosen family to salvage whatâs left of her home.
Ardour is a kingdom at the height of prosperity. But at what cost? Queen Alieta is beloved by all of her subjects. Yet she stands alone on the throne. Ignorance clouds her judgment, shadowed.
Thrusted in the middle, Elowen is alone and afraid and unsure of whom to trust. Who can she trust? Will Elowen be able to unravel the mystery of the blight that spans hundreds of years? Even with a blooming romance in her midst?
Elowen, the wind seemed to whisper.
I glanced up from the plant laying before me. The forest stilled, as if to say, that wasnât me. The silence was unnerving and frightening. I am too far away from anyone. Nobody is out there, I tell myself. My hands went back to the medicinal plant in distress. I pulled the last remaining weeds encroaching on its will to live. Brushing myself off as I stood up, giving the forest surrounding my cottage a look over once more. I grabbed my basket, and thenâ
Elowen, the wind whispered again.
My hand paused for a brief second until I realized my mistake. I needed to act natural if there was actually someone there. I cursed myself in my head. My faltering hands most likely went unnoticed by the potential threat, but they could have noticed it. I walked towards the cottage, went inside and shut the door. The latch fell into place with a deafening thud. I tried to be invisible. I threw the basket on the table, and pulling away the curtain, I peered outside.
The forest was once again deathly quiet. I took a deep breath. As I attempted to calm my racing heart, I closed my eyes. Itâs nothing, itâs nothing, ITâS NOTHING. My mind screamed at me. I glanced around at a quiet and empty house. Taking another glance out the window, exposing myself to whatever potential threat lurked outside. See, no one is there. You are overreacting. Mindlessly, I rub the ugly raised scar on my arm.
The world had been quiet as of late; my existence in the world appeared to be forgotten as I let the forest consume me. I busied my hands by adding the herbs to the stockpot on the flame. Learning the craft of plants was a self-taught ambition, a dangerous one at that. But a necessary one if I wanted to survive on my own. All I knew came from books I traded from travelers, and experimenting on random plants that grew in the forest was dangerous. I shuddered when I thought about it. I felt like I was throwing up my insides after eating a mushroom.
Never again. I trembled at the memory and sighed as I opened my cabinet, the contents of which were dwindling so severely that the spiderweb in the corner stood forgotten and empty. The season switching over was to blame. Society had forced me to my current home at the wrong time, leaving me with not enough time to stock for the impending cold season. If I wanted to survive the winter, I needed to get supplies.
Fuck, the gods must hate me. I needed to find someone to trade from, someone to buy supplies from. I grabbed jars with precisely written labels from the shelf and shoved them into my satchel. I put my cloak on, pulling the hood over my head. The flame in the hearth dwindled to nothing as I smothered it. Little red sparks flew into the air before dissipating into nothing. Wordlessly, I prayed to the gods. Please let no one recognize me. As I moved through the overgrown path leading to the main road, the jars clinked in the satchel.
The forest surrounding my newfound home was dense and filled with old growth. As I traipsed through the overgrowth, the chill air stung my nose. It had been two months since the incident, two long, silent months. My heart ached at the memory, and the emotions were still felt fresh in my heart. After being silent for months, I was unsure if my voice would carry.
My exhausted form reached the road as the sun met the earth in a warm embrace after a day apart. I made camp off the road, knowing only the desperate traveled at night. I was desperate, but not that desperate. Too afraid to start a fire, I snacked on cold jerky.
Stealth was important; I didnât want to call attention to myself. As hazardous as it was for a woman to travel, it was extra dangerous to be a woman traveling by herself. I piled weeds together, attempting to make a layer between my body and the ground, knowing if I didnât, the earth would sap away the heat in my body. I huddled down, pulling the cloak around me, and I resigned myself to a cold and fire-less night.
My mind raced as I closed my eyes, thinking about the potential outcomes for tomorrow.
Why was I born this way?
Why canât I be like everyone else?
Would anyone try anything?
Would the lower circle recognize me?
Would they know what I was?
I tried to calm my erratic breath caused by the runaway thoughts in my head by listening to the sounds of the night. In, out, in, out, I commanded. My hands shaking, I pulled myself up into a sitting position, trying to level my breathing.
The jerky in my system rolled around in my stomach, threatening to come up with the unwelcome motion. I put my head in my hands as if trying to stop the sway of the earth, which was giving my unruly stomach ideas. But I couldnât waste food. Itâs okay, itâs okay. My hand rubbed my leg. My breath soon slowed and my stomach stopped swaying. I laid back, my head pounding, looking through the treetops to the welcoming stars in the sky.
The sounds of birds woke me. I looked around, surveying my soundings. The sun pulled away from its long embrace with the earth as I gathered my supplies to begin the long walk to the nearest town. The road was empty, other than a few wild animals crossing the forest. I thanked the gods for this, and then they laughed at me.
Forty minutes down the road, I saw my first traveler. He was a rough-looking man, his hair speckled with gray and his face tanned and weathered from seeing many seasons. His disheveled clothing clung to his thin form. His tunic was torn and dirty, and the bag he carried appeared to be mostly empty, save for some insignificant items.
My inner voice debated with the logical part of my brain. On one hand, this man could just ignore me on my path. On the other hand, desperate people did desperate things. I shuddered, making my decision, squaring my shoulders. I tried to make myself seem bigger and more confident than I was.
I cursed myself. I had no weapon save for a small dagger attached to my hip. Keeping my normal pace, my senses hyper aware of the figure, I quickly outwalked the aging traveler. I took a deep breath, my shoulders relaxing back into their normal position. I have to stop overreacting, I told myself. Everyone is not out to get you.
The sounds of life assaulted my eardrums as I inched closer to the townâs perimeter. The clangs of the blacksmithâs hammer, the laughter of children, and the voices of sales clerks filled my ear. I was happy to hear the sounds of others, but terrified their actions towards me. I pulled my sleeve over my scar, the only visual reminder of my previous life. The large wooden gates were open as I reached the outskirts of the town. I held my satchel close to my body as I entered, not wanting my pockets to be picked by some desperate souls.
The noise everyone made as they went along with their daily life astounded me, after my months of being in relative silence. I followed a path with other travelers, who seemed eager to find their way like a herd of cattle. I set up shop in a small space between a jar merchant and a rug seller, setting a worn blanket on the ground and laying out my jars filled with medicinal properties. They were all made of herbs found growing wild in the forest surrounding my cottage. I was confident that the properties of the jars could benefit people ailing within the townâs limits.
The day passed by slowly. Jars exchanged hands and directions of use explained to paying customers. No one looked at my face more than a second. My customers only wanted relief for their ailments. As the jars sold, the sun got lower and lower in the sky. With the last remaining light, I picked up the leftover jars and my blanket.
Other sellers were doing the same. Shoppers from earlier had dissipated, leaving only a few stragglers in the courtyard. Once I cleaned up my space, I stood up, cursing myself for sitting so long. As my youthful body groaned in protest, as if I was an elderly lady who had seen many summers. Worry set in as I wondered where I would sleep tonight. I walked farther into the town.
My eyes set on the Black Beard Tavern, I heard the sounds of rowdy, intoxicated people already inside. With my coin purse clutched in my hand, I took a deep breath and walked in. A band played in the corner. Ladies of the night speckled the crowd, identified by the lack of clothing covering their bosoms. No one paid me any mind as I walked to the bar. The person at the counter was older than me.
âHello, Iâd like a room for the night, please,â I said, my voice cracking. The man looked at me up and down, grinning. Probably mistaking my stutter as nervousness about him. In reality, I wanted out of the crowded common area as soon as possible.
A lazy grin spread across the employeeâs face. âSure thing, dumplinâ, two silvers please.â
I already regret choosing this tavern, I thought cynically. We exchanged for the keys and I trudged up the steps, feeling his eyes on me the entire way. I shut the door, pulling the chest from the edge of the bed to the door, blocking any entry or exit from this room.
I opened my satchel and took an inventory of the jars I had left and the coins I gained throughout the day. I threw myself on the bed in a huff and moaned. Itâd been a while since I had a bed that wasnât hay. I slid underneath the blankets, blowing out the flame flickering on my nightstand, and allowed the dark to overcome me.
It was dark when I opened my eyes. As they adjusted to the dark, I gave my surroundings a once-over. My breath caught in my throat when I realized there was a human-sized form in my room. A chill set in.
âHello, dumplinâ, you werenât supposed to wake up quite just yet,â he said as he lunged at me.
I screamed, madly grasping for my satchel. His clammy hand seized my wrist right before I could reach it.
âNo, no, we are just getting started dumplinâ,â he grinned, showing his white teeth. âWe arenât even to the good part yet.â
I rolled over, kicking as I met the soft spot in between his legs. He grunted, releasing his hold on me for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for me to grab my satchel and dagger. I unsheathed it in one fluid movement. I stared at him. My chest rose and fell fast because of my rapid breathing. My heartbeat pulsed behind my eyes.
I glanced back at the chest in front of the door, my body tense. âHow did you get in here?â He smirked and pointed towards the window.
âIt was quite the surprise when I tried the door to find it barricaded. Clearly, it wasnât enough to stop me,â he said. Like it was some stupid game.
With the blade still pointed towards him, I struck a match and lit the candle next to me. The flame illuminated the room with a soft, ominous glow. The shadows danced on the wall next to him.
I gritted my teeth vehemently, âGet out.â
The wind howled through the room, a distant storm finally meeting the town. He lunged towards, as if I was a wild animal. Missing me by a fraction of a inch towards the door landing on the chest.
He drummed his fingers on the lid, staring at me with a brazen smile. âHow do you propose that? You did such a good job barricading yourself in.â
My anxiety began traveling towards my hands, making them sweaty. The dagger felt slippery. âOut the way you came,â I said with disgust, keeping my voice level. He put his hand on his heart, feigning scared.
âI could never do that. What if I fell? It could be fatal.â
âThatâs too bad,â I said, my voice betraying my genuine emotion. He stood up, squaring his shoulders and striding towards me, stopping just out of reach of my blade.
âDo you know how to use that?â He gestured to the blade in my hand.
I grinned wildly. False courage filled my body from the adrenaline coursing through my body. âDo you want to find out?â
He lunged at me, and I ducked down a moment too late as he grabbed me by my face, pulling me back up. I screamed again, swiping the blade at him making a shallow cut on his cheek. The blood already swelled to the surface. He grimaced, grabbing my wrist, making the blade fall from my hands. With his sturdy body, he pushed me up against the wall. He grunted.
âDamn, you weigh more than I thought.â
âFuck you,â I said, spitting in his face. He pushed my hand against the wall above my head and my sleeve fell down, leaving my scar exposed. Glancing up as I felt the cold air hit it, his gaze followed mine. Recognition lit up his face.
Time stopped as he stared at me in disgust. âYou know, maybe you havenât tried someone who was good.â I stared at him, repulsed.
Suddenly, the door pushed open and the chest moved.
A guard looked at us as he entered the room. âWhatâs going on here?â
The tavern workerâs face contorted into distress, letting go of me. âOfficer, sheâs a sinner and tried to come on to me. When I refused, she attacked me,â holding his bleeding face.
My jaw was on the floor I gaped at him as if Leland the Overseerer of Fate had dropped new lore onto the world to explain the act he just gave. I pulled down my sleeve and adjusted my shift and crossed my arms, trying to cover myself as much as possible.
The officer looked at the tavern employee, turning to me. âDo you have any proof to substantiate this claim?â
âYes, just look at her right arm!â The tavern employeeâthe assholeâsaid, exasperated.
âShow me your arm,â the guard said.
I dragged back the fabric covering my arm, exposing my brand, a symbol of the previous life that society had forced out of. He looked at it and his gaze narrowed as he strode towards me. He pulled chains from his belt and clamped them around my wrist, bruising me further.
âYou are under arrest for coming back into town, you wench,â he seethed. The kindness in his voice had disappeared, replaced with disgust.
Tears ran down my face, and my heart pounded behind my eyes. âPlease, just let me go. Iâll leave and never come back.â
âYou had your chance,â he said, pushing me forward.
âWait! Can I have my bag, please?â I hiccuped as a near-constant stream of tears ran down my face.
The asshole lowered his eyes to look at me, hate gleamed in them. âYou wonât need the bag where you are going.â I glared at him, the tears falling off my chin and down to my neck. I sniffled, snot threatening to explode everywhere. The officer grumbled in agreement but still grabbed my satchel and threw it roughly into my hands.
I scowled at him and lunged, spitting in his face. âI hope whoever you try to do this to next kills you, you bastard.â The guard grabbed onto my shoulders.
âThatâs enough, wench.â Officer man pushed me out into the hallway and pushed me down the steps. My body roughly bounced down the steps and I squeaked in surprise, trying to make my body into a ball to avoid hitting anything important. I met the ground floor with an unceremonious thump. I looked up at the officer, dazed, as he thundered down the steps. His large, calloused hands hauled me to my feet and walked me out into the street. The sun has pulled away from the earthâs embrace once again.
âWhere are you taking me?â I asked, my voice void of emotion. Maybe it was time to give up.
âTo the jail so we can try you for your crime.â
âI did nothing, just let me go,â I said as I pulled against his grip, digging into my arm.
âYou being alive is crime enough. Your kind disgust me,â he said, spitting to the side as if saying âyour kindâ left a foul taste in his mouth. The guard led me down the winding streets and soon we walked in streets I recognized from my childhood. A few moments later, we were standing in front of the prison. The building was imposing on the outside, made of white rock, the windows barred.
âLetâs go,â he said as he pushed me into the building.
The inside looked even less inviting than the outside. The hardened criminals behind bars looked at me with confusion for a secondâjust long enough to remember how men actedâand then the whistling and obscene yells commenced. The language was sure to make even the ladies of the night blush. The guard shoved me forward again, ripping the satchel out of my hands, unlocking an empty cell, and closing me in it.
The lock clanged back into place, sounding eerily final. âThe judge will arrive later,â the officer said. He flicked his hands dismissively as he spoke and walked back down the hall.
I took a breath and sighed, sliding down the wall. The jagged stone wall dug into my back uncomfortably. Putting my head in between my knees, I dozed off. I awoke to the lock opening with a resounding clank.
I looked up quickly to see who was entering. A man in clergy robes holding a cane was in the front. The white piece of fabric on the top of the black robe glared at me. Two men behind him wore decorative armor, complete with swords on their hips. The one to the right looked mean. Brown shaggy hair poked off the top of his head, unruly, and his eyes, almost black, seemed to pierce my soul. I looked away from him, focusing on the man on the left. My eyes met his, and I glanced away as recognition settled in my mind.
Jasper. What is he doing here? I wondered. Not willing to look at the left man anymore, I looked down.
âWhat is your given name, child?â the clergyman stated.
I looked at my interlocked hands and mumbled, âElowen Alwyn.â
âSpeak clearly,â the clergy stated, using his cane to force my face up to look at him. The left guard looked at the clergy member, seeming surprised at his boldness.
âElowen Alwyn,â I enunciated, glaring at the clergyman.
âDo you deny the claims on which we brought you in? It is clear someone has already banished you from the town,â he states as he gestured to my branded arm.
âNo, I donât,â I said, glaring at him. His cane moved from underneath my chin, rapping me in the head, catching me right above my eyebrow.
âNo, what?â he seethed, staring at me.
âThatâs enough,â Jasper stated. âShe already answered you; you donât need to hurt her.â I looked up at him in surprise. He wouldnât look me in the eye. Instead, he glared at the clergyman.
âSheâs an abomination,â the clergyman said, exasperated.
âYes, and she will answer for her crimes before the gods. A human, even a holy one, should not lay the godâs punishment, even you,â Jasper said, his face empty of any type of emotion.
The clergyman mumbled to himself and looked back at me, pulling a roll of paper from his large sleeve. As he unrolled it, a little stream of blood ran down my face and into my eye, blurring my vision into a pink swirl. âYou, Elowen Alwyn, were charged with Same-Sex Desire and now you are charged with disregarding your banishment. Banishment was given to you for your earlier crime,â he said, his upper lip curled in disgust. âBecause of your previous status, the crown declares Elowen Alwyn to be put to death by hanging.â He grinned. âThey should never have allowed you to live. Your kind is whatâs wrong with the world today, against the godâs plan.â
I opened my mouth to give a smart reply, but nothing came out. Jasper made a sound of surprise and then closed his mouth. He looked at me sadly. The clergyman glanced at him, narrowing his eyes, but said nothing. âWe shall put you to death at first light tomorrow. May the gods punish you in the afterlife,â he said as he turned and walked out. Jasper glanced back at me one last time, throwing his handkerchief at me. He said nothing as they walked away.
I brought the handkerchief up to my head and winced. Thatâll leave a scar, I thought to myself. No, it wonât, a voice in my head replied dryly. I scoffed. Coming into town to buy supplies might have been a mistake. No duh, the little voice said again. Even my inner monologue was going to bother me, it seemed. With the back of my hand, I wiped the blood away from my eye. Was there any way out of this mess? Picking myself up off the floor, I started pacing. My mind swirled with worry. My breath became erratic, my chest heaved up and down, tightening as my heart beat irregularly.
I stared out the window, trying to distract myself from the literal impending doom approaching me in the morning.
âYouâre still struggling with that?â a voice from behind me asked.
I whirled around, and the world tilted side to side with the movement. I went down with an ungraceful thump.
âHey itâs okay,â Jasper said, his voice barely above a whisper, âjust breathe with me.â He took one dramatic breath in through his nose and blew it out through his mouth.
I listened, begrudgingly rolling my eyes in response. As I tried to match my irregular breath with his steady one. Eventually, my breathing matched his, and I stared at him glumly. âWhat, are you here to yell at me some more?â I said. He looked at me with surprise.
âNo, I came here to help you escape,â he said, grinning.
âWhy?â
âBecause I donât think you should die because of who you love,â Jasper stated.
I looked at him in surprise. âWhat do you mean, you donât think I should die because of who I love?â I seethed. âYouâre the one who sold me out!â
Jasper looked at me with surprise and hurt. âThat was a mistake! I told Elfric, and he is the one who sold you out, not me.â
âYou told him!â I said, my voice rising from a whisper to a normal level. Jasper glared at me, telling me to shut up with his eyes.
âDo you want my help or not?â Jasper asked. I nodded reluctantly, knowing I didnât have a choice if I wanted to survive the next twenty-four hours. âI donât have long before somebody wonders where Iâve gone, so listen to me. After midnight, I will come get you. The guard change will happen then. Iâll arrange for a boat.â
I looked up at him sharply. âI canât swim! Why canât I go back to the cottage?â
He turned away from me for a second, attempting trying to compose himself. He must have failed, because when he turned back to me, he had tears in his eyes. âI know, but you donât have a choice. You need to get out of this region and go somewhere else. If they catch you again, they will kill you on the spot.â The wind howled through the bars in the window, bringing the harsh reality down upon me.
âWhere will I go?â I asked him.
He shrugged. âAnywhere is better than here.â I looked at him numbly and nodded in agreement. âItâs settled. Iâll arrange for a boat and youâll get away from here and build a new life.â Without another word, he walked away.
My mind raced once again.
I waited for him. The moon rose. It was full tonight, my favorite time each month. Its beauty always left me in awe. Each minute passing felt like hours. The current guards slid a tray of food under the bars. The tray contained a bowl of mush and a slice of bread; I mixed the mysterious sludge. It was so thick it held the path the spoon made. I pushed the extra thick porridge and grabbed the bread. I chewed it absentmindedly, trying to ignore the random green growths on it. Wondering if Jasper was really going to show up. Time ticked by as the moon rose higher. Slowly, the voices of the other inmates turned into snores and quiet mumbles.
My nerves were on edge as the jail got quieter and quieter. I glanced out the window, and the storm was still howling through the bars. I could see the sea if I stood on my tiptoes. The sound of footsteps started at the end of the hall. I glanced back at the bars of my cell. The space beyond it was black with shadows. I held my breath as the footsteps got louder.
âYou awake?â Jasper asked in a hushed tone.
âYes,â I said as I grabbed at the bars.
âGood,â Jasper said, âletâs get you out of here.â He put the key in the lock, and we both held our breath as he turned it to unlock the door. The clank of the lock turning seemed deafening in an otherwise quiet jail. I waited, half expecting alarms to be sounded, but nothing happened. He handed me my satchel. I looked down at it dumbly.
âYou got it back for me?â I asked.
âOf course I did. Thatâs the last thing your mother gave to you. I know how much it means to you,â he said, his voice soft. âNow letâs go, before we get caught and the upper circle have us hanged,â he said as he grabbed my hand.
His once-soft hands were calloused with training. I didnât pull away from the physical touch. Instead, I welcomed it and looped my fingers with his, like we did when we were kids. There was no love behind it, at least not the type of love my father had wanted. We slipped out into the streets; they were empty and dark, rain pelted down on us as we ran through them. The only sounds were our feet hitting the cobblestone.
My mind thought back to our childhood. We were always together when we were younger, running around and constantly getting into trouble. Things changed when we hit puberty. They suddenly expected me to be a lady. Immediately, my father sent me to a girlsâ boarding school, and Jasperâs family sent him to train for the military, to be a knight. The clock tower suddenly forced out of my daydream as a bell sounded.
âShit,â Jasper said, his voice low. Even though we were several blocks away, we quickened our pace. We made it to the dock. On most nights, sailors filled each nook and cranny. However, with the storm tonight, it was fairly empty save for a few drunken sailors awaiting their next job.
The salty air filled my nostrils as my anxiety rose from my stomach. Jasper pulled me over to a small boat with a sail. I looked at him. âThis must have cost a fortune.â
He shrugged. âItâs the least I could do.â He helped me into the boat and I stared at him. Rain plastered his usually curly brown hair to his face. His typically shining brown eyes looked unbelievably tired. We stood there looking at each other for a second.
âYou could come with me,â I said, almost yelling because of the storm.
He looked at me, surprised, and then looked at the town. âI belong here. This is my place in life. You are the one that needs to leave so you can find your place.â I cringed at the wording but nodded.
He was right. I donât belong here, and I probably never did.
âI hear thereâs a small island northwest of here, a few miles. Restock and buy a better map than the one I put in your satchel. Itâs outdated,â he said with a shrug. âThen find somewhere that accepts you,â he said as he leaned in and hugged me. My head rested on his chest. I breathed in his familiar scent, now mixed with salt water.
âThank you,â I said, my voice cracking with emotion.
âNow get going, before somebody sees you,â he said as he untied the sailboat from the dock, giving it a push. âAnd Elle,â I looked at him, surprised by the usage of my old pet name.
âIâm sorry; please be safe,â he shouted, his voice filled with sorrow as my little boat got farther and farther away, his face disappearing into the storm.
I sat down on the boat as it rocked. With no lit lamp on the boat, it was pitch black. I didnât want to risk being seen by the shore. The lights from town got smaller as the tide pulled the boat. I shivered as I pulled my cloak closer together, its cloth soaked through from the unforgiving rain. I opened my satchel, grabbing at the compass I had stashed away.
The worn letters on it were nearly illegible, trying to find what direction I was going. Waves hit the boat, and the compass went overboard. âNo,â I yelped as I tried to reach for it; watching it sink with despair. Why me? I groaned. I tried to position the sailboat in the right direction, unsure if it was correct. The lights from town were no longer visible when I looked at where my childhood home should have been.
I turned my head up at the clouded sky. I yelled. âWhy? What did I do that was so bad, that I angered the Gods, to deserve this!â No one answered. The rain and waves continued to assault the little sailboat. I looked back ahead, and fear crept up my throat. How was I supposed to know what direction I headed?
Minutes passed, turning into hours. The sun embraced the earth; it didnât seem like it wanted to let go. I shivered in the little boat and held on as the waves hit the boat furiously. With one hand, I gripped the rope that was attached to the sail, hoping to keep it going where I originally intended. My stomach flipped with each wave. Soon enough, bile reached my mouth, and I threw up overboard. Rain and tears ran down my face, washing away the evidence of the clergyman hitting me. The storm was getting worse by the minute. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. It seemed like I was getting farther out to sea than I intended.
Muttering every curse in my arsenal, I tried to readjust my course with the sail, grabbing the rope. The line rubbed my hands raw as the wind blew the sail the opposite direction, ripping it out of my hands. I screamed, clutching my hands at the flash of pain, opening them tentatively. An ugly welt appeared in streaks on my fingers and palms. A sob escaped my throat as I laid down on the floor of the sailboat, clutching them, giving up as sobs wretched through my body.
âPlease,â I said, whimpering to no one in particular, âI just want an opportunity to be me.â The sun seemed to hear me as it rose in the distance. A bright pink line lit the edge of the horizon. I sat up, looking back at the shore I once called home. With the land behind me, I knew knew what way to go. Wrapping my hands in my cloak to protect them, I pulled the sail rope again and then hissed with pain.
I looked in the direction I headed. It was still grey with rain and the ocean unruly.
The waves grew higher. I pulled my satchel closer to my body. An enormous swell billowed towards my sailboat as I glanced at the horizon. I screamed at the gods again, closing my eyes just as the wave hit me. Water filled my nostrils as the wall of water swept my body off the boat. I struggled to make it to the surface of the water, cursing myself for never learning how to swim. As I reached the open air, I gasped for breath and watched in horror as the boat capsized with the next wave.
Desperately, I attempted to swim towards it; the waves making it more impossible than it already was. Miraculously, I made it, grabbing onto what had been the bottom of the boat as I tried to haul myself up. The weight of my cloak made it impossible. I let go of the boat with one hand and unbuckled the clasp. The cloak untangled itself from my body and sank. I stared as it disappeared under the waves. Shouldnât it float? I turned my attention back to the boat heaving myself up with my satchel, which scraped against the boat as I reached its highest point.
The rain appeared to lessen up, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked around, definitely far away from the coast, farther than I intended. I could see a dark line on the horizonâland. Luckily, the tide was pushing the boat in the right direction. I glanced up at the sky. The clouds dissipated. I sat on the top of the boat, shivering. I wore only the shift I had slept in. The white material had essentially become see through because of the rain. At least I donât have to worry about my modesty, I thought grimly. I was utterly alone.
By now, the sun was high above me, and I could discern shapes on the incoming land. My skin was red from the sun, my hair and clothes crunchy from all the salt. I licked my lips, feeling the dry skin flake off as the salt coated my tongue. I opened my satchel, and my heart sunk a little as I realized the contents were waterlogged.
I pulled out the soaked map Jasper placed in there the day before. Gently, I unrolled it. What used to be words were now streaked throughout the page. The landmasses were still legible. I glanced at the growing land mass before me and then back to the ruined map. I sighed, as none of them quite fit the look of this mass of land before me. Out of date, my ass. Incorrect all the way, I thought.
My mind drifted as I waited. I thought about the events from the last couple of days and shuddered to think of what the future might hold for me. Obviously, Iâm cursed. The sun slowly set again, turning the sky into oranges and dark blue hues. I thanked Hesper the god of night, as my skin was painfully red.
The land mass was so close. I sighed, but instead of heading towards a nice sandy beach, I was approaching the cold shoulder of a cliff. By the end of the night, the boat lurched as I ran aground. As I slid off the boat into the frigid water, I held my breath. When I resurfaced, I gasped as once again, I was drenched. I hate water. After a few moments of struggling, I finally made it close enough to land where my feet could touch the bottom.
On my hands and knees, I crawled up on the rough land, kissing the nearest salty rock I could find. I surveyed the cliff area, looking around, trying to pick the best possible place to start my climb. I turned towards the cliff side and took my first step up. My body screamed in protest as I lifted myself up to another ledge. My fingers curled into the sharp rock face. The welts on my hands seemed to say please stop.
Ignoring my bodyâs protest, I whispered, âOne more step, one more step.â I was so close. I was unsure how much time had passed. The sun was gone.
The stars and the moon were my light. As I reached a landing large enough for my frame, I paused, catching my breath. I looked up, so close. You need your rest, my inner voice seemed to say. Pushing myself as far away from the ledge as possible, I shut my eyes. The cliff face dug into my sunburnt back. Quickly, I fell into an exhausted slumber.
I awoke to the sounds of birds. The sun was rising once again. My mind raced as my current predicament crashed back into me. I swallowed the sobs that threatened to come up and began my climb up again. I focused on the rock right in front of my face, not wanting to discourage myself further.
âOne more step, one more step,â I repeated my mantra from yesterday; instinctually, I reached for the next rock ledge to hold on to. My hand met with something soft and wet. Grass!
I reached to pull myself up and over the ledge, finally arriving at the top. I stood and looked up, taking a step forward closer inland. As the events of the last few days finally caught up to me, I swayed.
My eyes meet someone elseâs as the world fades. Just before I lose consciousness, I think, Wow, sheâs beautiful.
The Mountains of Ebbon finds Elowen thrust into a dangerous conflict between two warring kingdoms: Valdis and Ardour. Cast out of her human realm because of her sexuality, Elowen is saved by Queen Lilja of Valdis and quickly becomes a vital part of her team. Valdis has been suffering from a mysterious blight for over one hundred years, resulting in the infection of all crops and endangering the health of Liljaâs people. Meanwhile, Ardour is prospering like never before. Their queen, Alieta, is beloved by her kingdom, but she fights a lonely battle from her throne. Elowen will need to unravel the mysteries of the two kingdoms and be careful of who she trusts if she is going to eradicate the blight of Valdis once and for all.
The Mountains of Ebbon is an epic fantasy novel about a displaced young woman who finds a new homes in a faraway land. Elowen is an anxious, slightly fearful, and unsure heroine at the beginning of the book. Having endured grave injustice in her homeland merely for being herself, she finds it hard to trust others and walks around expecting the worst from her fellow humans. After washing ashore on Valdis, she is hesitantly welcomed by Queen Lilja, where she is nursed back to health and shown kindness and mercy â things she has known little of in many years. The book is a testament about giving people a chance to prove their worth before making hasty judgments because of face-value facts. Elowen, Queen Lilja, and their companions learn the importance of maintaining an open mind when encountering new faces or facts; and anyone has the power to save a kingdom if they have the right mindset and are surrounded by the right support group.
The main issues I encountered while reading The Mountains of Ebbon can be resolved with additional editing and revisions. Specifically, there are numerous sentence structure issues â particularly with fragmented sentences. There are also places where the prose alternated between past and present tense. Individually, these errors have minimal impact on the themes and world building in the book, but they do disrupt the flow of the reading and took me out of the story enough to diminish the connection I had with the characters and main storyline. Making sure that the final manuscript is completely polished â mechanically and creatively â is what can really take a great book into a phenomenal blockbuster.
Overall, I think fans of YA Fantasy will really enjoy the book and that it is a worthwhile read.