Rise of the Ranger (The Echoes Saga, #1)

by Philip C. Quaintrell

humans went, they twisted the world to fit around them, forcing the land to pay tribute to their superiority.

It shocked him to find that he didn’t fear death, but instead feared the unremarkable life he left behind him. With no children to take pride in and no great love to mourn him, the ranger would leave nothing but a trail of bodies to speak for his life.

“Well, why don’t we ask the old man?” The first Graycoat, with a black beard wider than his face, turned to Asher. “Aren’t the Arakesh supposed to know everyone’s secrets?” “Would you like to know your mother’s secret?” Asher rested a hand on the buckle of his belt.

The moment of silence was only broken when the archer’s body shattered into a thousand pieces, spreading him across the floor and between the feet of his companions.

Men and elves alike are capable of great atrocities if they can do it in the name of another, be it gods or kings. Duty can give you courage and a sense of honour, but it can give you cause to act without thought.

“Guarantees are hard to come by in this life, fellas.” Asher met their stunned faces with a menacing expression. “But I guarantee you, if either of you pulls a sword, I will break your goddamn neck.”

To the ranger, prophecies were like old history tomes: lengthy and full of shit.