A Forest of Vanity and Valour (Levanthria, #1)

by A.P. Beswick

Lek hisses my name under his breath, trying not to draw attention to us. His colossal frame casts a shadow large enough for Gillam and me to hide under. His full brown beard engulfs his face, giving him the appearance of a wild man, but his armour tells a different story. His family crest – a bear with two axes above it, framed within the emblem of a shield – indicates his privileged background.

Gillam crouches beside me. Her slender physique equips her with an unrivalled agility. Her long blonde hair is slicked back into a tight ponytail, and her amber eyes catch the light from the moon like a cat in the dark.

Allana’s arms wrap around me from behind and I cover her hands with mine. Together, we gaze out the window at the city beyond the castle walls. “Come back to bed.” “I can’t rest.” I turn to face her and place my hands on the sides of her arms. Her long dark hair falls to the small of her back. Her skin is pale, her eyes like ice. Her unnatural beauty still takes my breath away every time I see her. “I want the war to be over so things can go back to normal.”

This is the second time the wolfaire has protected us. My only question now is – why?

There is an island far north of Yugo’s Tears, one shrouded in a fog not made from the clouds nor the mist by the sea but by the gods themselves. Deep within that island, there is a natural spring, the waters of which are said to reverse the effect of magic use. -Diary of Gregor Yerald, explorer and monster hunter, 260 KR

“Thinking it over and over again will change nothing. I know that won’t stop you from hurting, but torturing yourself will not help them or you.”