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Don’t let the world – don’t let anyone convince you that you’re not enough. Only you define your story. You and you alone. When they tell you what you’re not, when they tell you what you can’t do, remember: you are the storm, Elwren. You split the skies and flood the plains. You make the ground tremble beneath their boots. No one can fucking stop you.’
Torj looked from him to Wilder. ‘So you’re saying that I’m the only one out of all of us who actually got to choose my apprentice.’ Vernich saluted him with the bottle. ‘Congratu-fucking-lations. You lucky bastard.’ ‘Turned out alright for me in the end,’ Wilder said with a grin.
‘What’d you do to him?’ Anya demanded. Vernich merely shrugged. ‘Nothing permanent.’
The fortress has fallen.’
Sure enough, the eyes of the allied forces did not fall to Talemir Starling, nor to Anya, the Daughter of Darkness, and not to Wilder Hawthorne either. They looked to her. A former child of Thezmarr, a girl turned warrior, Althea Nine Lives, the Shadow of Death, the wraith slayer. The storm-wielding Warsword. Althea Embervale.
‘With the odds stacked against us in every way, this battle will test the very heart of us. But it is in these moments of dire peril that legends are born. It is battles like these that forge warriors with blood and steel. I stand before you now not as a Warsword, nor an heir of a kingdom, but as a sister of the sword. You may not know me well. You may not know me at all… But I know you.’
‘You are the true warriors of the midrealms – those who have been knocked down time and time again, only to rise up stronger than before. What those bastards behind these walls fail to comprehend, what they can never grasp, is the indomitable spirit that resides within each and every one of you. Together, we are a tempest that will rage. A storm that gathers must break, and by the Furies will we break upon them.’
‘If this is to be our final stand, let us make it worthy of legend!’
‘You, Audra.
The next world is what we make it, right?’
‘I’m retiring. Do whatever the fuck you want.’
The Ladies’ Luncheon.
One day, he vowed. One day I’ll ask her to be my wife.
‘And I thought Biscuit was a terrible name for a Warsword’s horse.’
always said you’d be the end of me,’ he told her, throat bobbing. ‘But I was wrong. You’re the beginning.’
‘All work and no play makes Warswords incredibly dull, Hawthorne.’
‘May you walk amid the gardens of the afterlife a whole half hour —’ ‘Before Enovius reads your ledger of deeds,’
