Bladesorrow (The Agarsfar Saga Book 1) by D. T. Kane
English | 2020 | Fantasy | ePUB | 4.3 MB
“Taul Bladesorrow betrayed us all. And he murdered my mother.”
In the land of Agarsfar, legend has it that all of time exists on the one True Path, watched over by the mythic, time-traveling Aldur. Reality has strayed far from myth. The Aldur are dead, slain by one of their own. Devan is all that remains; all that stands between the sanctity of time itself and eternal chaos.
History says Taul Bladesorrow ought to be a revered leader of Agarsfar. But time has been altered. Now society deems him a traitor, his very name anathema. When Devan reveals that Taul is essential to saving all existence, he expects the famous man to leap to his aid. But Taul sees little reason to save the society that has scorned him.
When childhood friends Jenzara and Ferrin are forced to flee home, they are rescued by the unlikeliest of heroes—the infamous Taul Bladesorrow himself. Jenzara believes Bladesorrow responsible for her mother’s death. How can she possibly accept his aid? And while Ferrin relishes the opportunity to learn from a living legend, a dark secret Ferrin conceals could mean ruin for himself and all those around him.
Valdin was an Aldur, now stripped of his powers. He’s made a deal with an ancient evil: The life of his dead love—executed for a crime she would commit in the future—in exchange for the sanctity of time itself. Valdin seems a madman driven by grief, but he knows things others do not. When his knowledge is revealed, some begin to wonder if his revolution is actually justified.
Taul Bladesorrow burst onto the Quadrangle, eleven Parents in pursuit. He charged down the Old Symposium’s broad stairs, blinking back the sun’s sudden glare. Overhead, a clear sky was marred by red streaks, a mortal wound bleeding out.
He skidded to a halt in the shadow of Ral’s Obelisk, marking the square’s center. Ferrin came up gasping beside him a moment later, grasping at a bloody shoulder. Served him right, trying a hex so soon after having that wound healed.
The commotion he’d caused at the Symposium had already drawn a sizable crowd. Most huddled about the grand steps of the Senate at the Quad’s head, its stately columns bringing to mind another life that Taul could hardly believe had been his own. The onlookers regarded him and the boy both with a fearful curiosity, a sort of sick fascination that oppressed men and women see in ones seemingly worse off than they.
But even morbid wonder couldn’t spur any to stand within fifty paces of the building adjacent to the Senate. The Temple. Its façade of closely spaced pillars, coalescing like the northern lava flows, gradually grew into a single belfry that watched over the Quadrangle like an all-seeing eye. A monolith of oppression. A golden sun over the Temple’s arched entryway matched the sigil emblazoned on the white robes of the Parents who now pursued them.
Ferrin’s breaths came in abbreviated pants, causing Taul to glower down at him. The boy grasped the base of the monument for support, as if it were the sole thing keeping him from a painful meeting with the ground.
Taul resisted an urge to growl frustration at him. Ferrin had led the Parents right to them, thinking with his heart instead of his head. Had he expected to rescue Jenzara by himself? He worried for her too, more than the boy could possibly understand. But now they’d be lucky to live long enough to see another sunset, much less stage a rescue to retrieve Jenzara from the Temple’s grasp.
He put his back to the Obelisk as the pursuing Parents fanned around them, angling his body to partially shield the boy. The Parents’ eyes shone with uncertainty, none wishing to be the first to move against him. They were terribly misguided, but at least they weren’t utter fools. They’d just seen him stand against their leader and live, a feat he very much doubted any had ever witnessed.
Still, they were enchanted, under the Grand Father’s compulsion, and the spectacle back at the Symposium would only stay their hands for so long. Breathing deep, Taul reached out to the shadows about him, muttering and picturing the eyes of a long-dead friend, as he did whenever he prepared to channel. The seductive murmur of the fifth element greeted him as its power seeped into his bones, the darkness inviting him to swim forever in its murky depths, discard his mortal confines. He pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the protective sphere he meant to draw about himself and the boy.