Of Empires and Dust (The Bound and The Broken, #4)

by Ryan Cahill

Later. I’m not drunk enough for the sappy shit.”

None of us, not one soul here, has seen darker times than these. And still, this fool wants to squabble and argue over who has ‘power’. None of us have power. We are not fighting for control, we are fighting for survival.

You have spent your life giving everything for others. At every turn, every fork in the road, every branching path, you chose to shoulder the burden so that others would not have to bear its weight. I choose my champions with care, Grandmaster Kallinvar. And I chose you.”

Numbers were simple and honest, and there was a beauty in that.

“Hah.” Magnus choked on a laugh after swigging from the waterskin. “Sure, sword. That’s what I meant.”

“Sometimes, Rist, if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. And I fucking hate crying.

Such a mood right now in 2025

And now, as I sit here, finally saying these words out loud, I realise how many nights we’ve lost because I’ve been too much of a coward to speak my mind. How many nights we’ve both spent cold and alone that could have been warm and together.

We are not Lorian or Illyanaran here, we are just people trying to survive. We are the only thing that stands between Salme and ashes. When this is all done, tear each other to pieces for all I care, rip each other apart. But here, now, you pull your fucking shit together, and you stop acting like children.

“It’s all right to be afraid. Fear reminds us what we have to lose. It forces us to think, to question our choices. What’s important is that we embrace our fear, but never let it control us.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to kill you – slowly, with a spoon.”

“History will speak of this war. It will speak of us. I will not allow it to say that we did not always strive for the path of least destruction.

“Because it’s smarter than you are and will steal anything you don’t chain up.” “Smarter than us?” “No,” Vaeril corrected, a grin spreading across his face. “Just you.”

“I’m going to fucking bite you the whole way down. I’m going to fucking bite you, and I’m going to draw blood.”

He could have dealt with them all quickly, but that night wasn’t about efficiency, or haste, or even death. It was about terror.

Gwinton Jon.

Books were a thing of insurmountable beauty and power. Be they immense repositories of knowledge, transcendent works of philosophical quandaries, or transportational tales, they were a thing to be cherished and adored.

“So let me speak simple and plain. If you dare mock one of my commanders like that again, disrespect them in any way, I will stick my boot so far up your arse we will see if your shit is as gold as your shirt.”

“That’s a demon covered in feathers. Its sole purpose is destruction and terror… and it has my sock.

“And how will we know when you’re in position?” “Oh, you’ll know.” “No, we’re not playing that game. How will we know?” “Fuck. I’ll set something on fire. Something big.”

Wear your missteps like armour, brother. Wrap them around you so that you may always know them and not be doomed to suffer for them twice over.

We all have our shortcomings… some of us are just short.”

Chapter 77 Hammer of Hafaesir

This chapter is amazing.

Chapter 80 Daughter of the Sea

My heart.

A cracked blue scale drifted in the sky beside him, blood streaming in its wake. He wrapped the threads around the scale and launched it like an arrow. The scale sliced through the flesh of Voranur’s neck, and for a moment, the elf’s eyes bulged and his mouth gaped open, blood pouring over his lips. Voranur’s head separated from his body, and Seleraine let out a wail that froze even Calen’s heart.

“Warriors of Salme! Tonight we fight not just for our homes, for these logs and stones that we call Salme. We fight so that we may see the sun rise again. We fight so that our children will draw breath when that light comes, so that our lines do not end here. And if we do fail, if Salme falls, let the bards sing of our fury. Let them tell stories of what happened here for generations. Let them say that the men and women of the western villages did not go quietly into the night. For every soul they take, let us take ten. If this city is to burn, then let it burn brighter than any flame ever has.” Dahlen pulled a sword from the scabbard across his back. “I was not born here. I was not raised here. I do not know these villages like you do. But I tell you now, I will go to Achyron’s halls with pride in my heart if I am to die here!”

“You would have loved her, Mam. I’m sorry I wasn’t here in time.”

Belina got the worst idea of her life. At least, one of the worst. Fourth worst. That time in Karvos was definitely the worst.

“Listen to me, demon. Tell your god I am coming for his soul. He is in my world now. He is not free. He is trapped in this mortal plane with me, and I will have my vengeance for every soul he has torn apart.”