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Started reading
June 8, 2025
‘Orisima, the last Western trading post in the East. Its existence was what gave me the hope that the Warlord might see me.’
Worldbuilding
Centuries ago, the First Warlord of Seiiki had signed the Great Edict and closed the island to all but the Lacustrine and the Mentish, to protect its people from the Draconic plague. Even after the plague abated, the separation had endured. Any outsider who arrived without permission would be put to death. As would anyone who abetted them.
Historical lore
Though Draconic creatures had been stirring from their long slumbers for years, sightings had remained uncommon – yet the last few months had seen several. It boded ill that the beasts were growing bold enough to hunt in settled areas.
Environmental lore
The House of Berethnet, like most royal houses, had seen its fair share of premature deaths. Glorian the First had drunk from a poisoned cup of wine. Jillian the Third had ruled for only a year before being stabbed in the heart by one of her own servants. Sabran’s own mother, Rosarian the Fourth, had been slain by a gown laced with basilisk venom. Nobody knew how the garment had entered the Privy Wardrobe, but foul play by the Yscals was suspected.
Historical lore
‘All stories grow from a seed of truth,’ Truyde said. ‘They are knowledge after figuration.’
Lines I like
As it happened, Susa had once had a liaison with one of the sentinels at the trading post, who was keen to win her back. With the landing gate unlocked, Susa had planned to swim to it with the outsider and deliver him to Orisima’s master surgeon, with the empty promise of silver if he co-operated. The man apparently had gambling debts. If the trespasser did have the red sickness, it would be trapped in Orisima. Once the ceremony was over, Susa would anonymously report him to the Governor of Cape Hisan. The surgeon would be whipped raw when they found the man in his home, but Tané doubted he
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Political lore
A fountain carved into the image of the great Kwiriki – the first dragon ever to take a human rider – stood in the outer courtyard of the temple.
Environmental lore
This man was the honoured Sea General of Seiiki. Head of Clan Miduchi, the dynasty of dragonriders – a dynasty united not by blood, but by purpose.
Environmental lore
Their size was breathtaking. Most were Seiikinese, with silvery hides and lithe, whip-like forms. Impossibly long bodies held up their splendid heads, and they each had four muscular legs, ending in feet with three claws. Long barbels swirled from their faces and trailed like the lines of kites. The majority were quite young, perhaps four hundred years old, but several carried scars from the Great Sorrow. All were covered with scales and ringed with sucker marks – keepsakes from their quarrels with greatsquid. Two of them possessed a fourth toe. These were dragons from the Empire of the Twelve
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Environmental lore
‘You are here today to be sworn to one of two lives: that of the High Sea Guard, defending Seiiki from sickness and invasion, or a life of learning and prayer on Feather Island. Of the sea guardians, twelve of you will have the honour of becoming dragonriders.’ Only twelve. Usually there were more.
Worldbuilding
‘As you will know,’ the Sea General said, ‘there have been no hatchings of dragon eggs for the past two centuries. Several dragons have also been taken by the Fleet of the Tiger Eye, which continues its repulsive trade in dragonflesh under the tyranny of the so-called Golden Empress.’
Environmental lore
I trust this will herald a closer friendship with our allies to the north.’
Political lore
The Sea General inclined his head to the two Lacustrine dragons. They would not be quite as accustomed to the sea as Seiikinese dragons, since they preferred to live in rivers and other bodies of fresh water – but dragons from both countries had fought side by side in the Great Sorrow, and they had ancestors in common.
Environmental lore
The dragons watched her. It was said they could see the deepest secrets of a soul, for human beings were made of water, and all water was theirs.
Fourth wing but good
‘Don’t tell me. You’re plainly a fool, and I have no interest in befriending fools.’
LMAO
‘You see, Niclays, it was agreed after the Great Sorrow that every fifty years, a number of Seiikinese dragons would take human riders, so we might always be prepared to fight together once again. Those who were chosen for the High Sea Guard this morning have been given this chance, and will now endure the water trials to decide which of them will be dragonriders.’
Historical Iore
Panaya nodded. Her hand strayed to the pendant around her neck, carved into the shape of a dragon. Such a thing would be destroyed in Virtudom, where there was no longer any distinction between the ancient dragons of the East and the younger, fire-breathing wyrms that had once terrorised the world. Both were deemed malevolent. The door to the East had been closed for so long that misunderstanding about its customs had flourished.
Environmental lore
How frightened he had been that day. All Mentish children knew the story of the Nameless One from the moment they could fathom language. His own dear mother had relished scaring him to tears with her descriptions of the father and overking of all fire-breathing creatures – he who had emerged from the Dreadmount bent on chaos and destruction, only to be grievously wounded by Sir Galian Berethnet before he could subjugate humankind. A thousand years later, the spectre of him still lived in all nightmares.
Historical lore
Saint, he prayed, let me not piss myself at the end.
Mood
There was a certain bird in Seiiki with a call like a babe beginning to wail. To Niclays, it had become a torturous symbol of his life in Orisima. The whimper that never quite turned into a scream. The wait for a blow that never came. As the sentinels rummaged through his house, that wretched bird took up its cry, and it was all Niclays could hear.
Environmental lore
The Presence Chamber was full for the Mentish visit, as it always was when foreign ambassadors came to Inys.
Worldbuilding
The standard-bearers came first. They showed the Silver Swan of Mentendon displayed on a black field, with the True Sword pointed down, between its wings. Next came the servants and the guards, the interpreters and the officials. Finally, Lord Oscarde, Duke of Zeedeur, walked briskly into the chamber, accompanied by the Resident Ambassador to Mentendon.
Political lore
‘Through marriage, Your Majesty.’
NOOOOOOOOOO
There was always a period of fragility before a Berethnet sovereign got with child. Theirs was a house of daughters, one daughter for each queen. Their subjects called it proof of their sainthood. It was expected of each Queen of Inys to marry and get with child as soon as possible, lest she die with no true heir. This would be dangerous in any country, since it would pitch the realm into civil war, but according to Inysh belief, the collapse of the House of Berethnet would also cause the Nameless One to rise again and lay waste to the world.
Political lore
‘as you know, your ancestor, Queen Sabran the Seventh, was wed to my own distant relation, Haynrick Vatten, who was Steward-in-Waiting to Mentendon while it was under foreign rule. Since the House of Lievelyn ousted the Vatten, however, there has been no formal knit between our countries, except our shared religion.’ Sabran listened with a look of indifference that never quite touched on boredom or contempt. ‘Prince Aubrecht is aware that his late grand-uncle’s suit was declined by Your Majesty… and, ah, also by the Queen Mother’ – Zeedeur cleared his throat again – ‘but my master believes he
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Political lore
Not long ago, the Kingdom of Yscalin to the south had also been part of Virtudom. Before it had taken the Nameless One as its new god.
Worldbuilding
‘Although we are touched by his gift, your master should know of our disdain for the heretical practices of the Seiikinese,’ Sabran said. ‘We desire no parlance with the East.’
Political lore
‘We hear His Royal Highness was training to be a sanctarian before he was High Prince of Mentendon. Tell us of his other . . . qualities.’
Political lore
‘Queen Sabran scorns the East, as all of us should,’ Ead said. ‘They are wyrm-worshippers.’ ‘Inys won’t have to trade there, silly. We can buy from the Mentish.’ It was still a tainted exchange. The Mentish traded with the East, and the East idolised wyrms.
Worldbuilding
‘The High Prince was betrothed to the Donmata Marosa for a time. A woman who is now the crown princess of a Draconic realm.’
Political lore
Lord Seyton Combe. The spymaster himself. Almost everyone called him the Night Hawk, for he snatched his prey under cover of darkness. Discontents, power-hungry lords, people who flirted too often at the queen – he could make any problem disappear.
Political lore
In truth, he was a handsome bird. A rainbow mimic. His feathers blurred from blue to green to safflower, and his head was a brash pink.
THERE ARE TALKING BIRDS???? (Environmental lore)
Perchling. The largest port in Inys, and its principal gateway to the mainland. Sulyard had fled on a ship, then.
Worldbuilding
Truyde could not have found this book in any Inysh library. Seeking knowledge of the East was heresy. She would get far worse than a scolding if anyone found it.
Political lore
mimic
Edwin…. (Environmental lore)
‘She did. They say he was in love with her.’
Sensing the common theme of forbidden love here….
‘Arteloth, my surly northern friend – I never said she returned the love,’ Kit said equably, ‘but she liked the man enough to bestow on him the largest ironclad ship in her fleet, which he named the Rose Eternal. Now he calls himself privateer with impunity.’
And unrequited love too….hmmm
You and Lord Kitston are now Inysh ambassadors-in-residence to the Draconic Kingdom of Yscalin. The Yscals have been informed you are coming. Make enquiries about the last ambassador, the Duke of Temperance. Observe the court of the Vetalda. Most importantly, find out what they are planning, and if they intend to mount an invasion of Inys.
Political lore
Art is not one great act of creation, but many small ones. When you read one of my poems, you fail to see the weeks of careful work it took me to build it – the thinking, the scratched-out words, the pages I burned in disgust. All you see, in the end, is what I want you to see. Such is politics.’
This is true
‘To ensure an heir, the Dukes Spiritual must paint a certain picture of the Inysh court and its eligible queen,’ Kit said. ‘If they believed your intimacy with Queen Sabran would spoil that picture – dissuade foreign suitors – it would explain why they chose you for this particular diplomatic mission. They needed you gone, so they . . . painted you out.’
Political lore
It had always been a risk to come here. The city was a dangerous place, where apprentices might be tempted to act in ways that would corrupt them. There were brothels and taverns, card games and cockfights, recruiters sent to press them into piracy. Tané had often wondered if the Houses of Learning had been built so close to all this as a test of will.
Worldbuilding
The Warlord was almost mythical. His family had taken power after the imperial House of Noziken had been destroyed in the Great Sorrow. All Niclays really knew about the man was that he lived in a castle in Ginura. Every year, the Viceroy of Orisima would be taken there in a locked palanquin to pay tribute, offer gifts from Mentendon, and receive gifts in return.
Political lore
the tenets of alchemy. Distillation, Ceration, Sublimation – these were the only deities that he would ever praise.
Worldbuilding
The sea guardians must be on their way to the capital. The other apprentices would be packed off to Feather Island, a high isle in the Sundance Sea, where all known wisdom about dragonkind was stored. Niclays had written to the Governor of Cape Hisan several times, requesting permission to travel there, but had always been rebuffed. Feather Island was not for outsiders.
Worldbuilding
Dragons might yet be the key to his work. They could live for thousands of years. Something in their bodies must allow them to keep renewing themselves. They were not what they had once been. In Eastern legend, dragons had possessed mystical abilities, like shape-shifting and dream-making. The last time they had exhibited these powers was in the years following the end of the Great Sorrow. That night, a comet had crossed the sky, and while wyrms the world over had fallen into a stone-like sleep, the Eastern dragons had found themselves stronger than they had been in centuries. Now their powers
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Environmental lore
‘Because outsiders cannot set foot in Seiiki on pain of death. And the Seiikinese, in turn, cannot leave.’ Niclays hooked the kettle over the hearth. ‘They let us stay here so they can trade with us and absorb odds and ends of Mentish knowledge, and so we can give the Warlord at least a hazy impression of the other side of the Abyss, but we cannot go beyond Orisima or speak heresy to the Seiikinese.’
Worldbuilding
They also, understandably, suspect outsiders of carrying the Draconic plague – the red sickness, as they call it. If you had taken the trouble to do your research before you came here—’
Environmental lore
You think that you alone can overturn the Great Edict, a law that has stood for five centuries, just by asking nicely. You really are young.’
Political lore
‘Her Majesty mistrusts the East, to her own detriment,’ he finally said, ‘and they are the only ones who can help us. Even when she is made aware of the danger she faces, which will no doubt be soon, her pride would never allow her to ask for Eastern aid. If I could only talk to the Warlord on her behalf, Truyde said she might realise the—’ ‘Truyde.’ The cup shook in his hands. ‘Truyde,’ he whispered. ‘Not— not Truyde utt Zeedeur. Daughter of Lord Oscarde.’ Sulyard was frozen.
Political lore
The Chief Gentlewoman of the Privy Chamber, heir apparent to the Duchy of Justice, had been born only six days before Sabran. Her hair was thick and dark as treacle. Pale and smalt-eyed, always fashionably dressed, she had spent almost her whole life with her queen. Her mother had been Chief Gentlewoman to Queen Rosarian.
Political lore
