The Wind Weaver (Reign of Remnants, #1)

by Julie Johnson

To annihilate a race, you must do more than kill its people. You must kill its music, its artwork, its architecture. Its customs, its traditions, its religions. You must eradicate the beauty, so only horror remains in the memories of those who live on in the aftermath. So no one attempts to rebuild—or even remembers why they might ever want to.

“Four elements. Four Remnants, reincarnated in flesh and blood. A fated tetrad, bearing the marks of the gods. Scattered across the land. Should all four come together and be bound as one, the balance will be restored. Maegic will return, the blight will end, the land will recover, all will rejoice.

“It would be a shame, you dying on me so soon.” His voice drops so low, I’m no longer sure he’s speaking to me. “A few hours of conversation in exchange for seventy years of waiting? Hardly seems a fair trade.

A love triangle? Air + water and air+ fire? Please, i beg

“One alone shall perish, Scorching flame unchecked. Two at odds shall falter, Drowning tide unquenched. Three in arms shall fragment, Piercing wind untrained. Four as one shall triumph, Shaking earth unrestrained.”