Hello again, folks. I’ve just had a tiring day walking around good old Vancouver. We moved out of the big city four years ago because the Reapers were coming we haz no money we wanted a more wholesome environment to raise our family in. That said, it’s still a pretty enough city to visit, and it was nice to walk down memory lane once again.
Also, I’ve been talking about Jaeth’s Eye for quite a while now and think it’s about time I posted an excerpt because I really try not to be one of those people who just talk about writing all the time without ever showing a single sentence (because you know, being a starving/tortured/amazingly talented but under-appreciated writer who will someday be famous and rich is like the best thing ever). So, here you have it:
What do you mean it wasn’t your fault?
Kefier saw the achingly blue sky over the cliff edge and smelled the sting of salt in the air.
What do you mean you didn’t mean for it to happen?
He heard the tide crashing against rock. In the distance, the seagulls began to scream.
You jealous brat. You wanted it done. Get out of my head—NO! You left him for dead. You killed him. You couldn’t bear for him to have all he had and so…
No, you get out. You won’t bother me again. LEAVE!
Heat pounded into his head and lungs. His head began to clear and he found himself crawling along the side of the tunnel, heading back to the light. Something gripped his ankle and he kicked at it.
“Kefier…” Oji gasped, white-faced.
He looked down, horrified, and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. He hauled him out and stumbled under the dark sky, the moon casting faint shadows on their skin. Kefier could not remember being in the tunnel for so long. He lowered Oji to the ground and felt something wet on his shirt. The familiar smell of blood crept up his nostrils.
“Fuck, Oji. What was that?” he asked, forcing himself to laugh. He dropped on all fours and crawled next to his friend. “I swear, the guys won’t believe it when we tell them…”
Kefier stopped, noticing the bruises on Oji’s face and his shallow breathing. He touched his friend’s arm. Only then did he realize that his side was drenched in blood. The gaping wound in Oji’s belly grinned up at him.
He was still so young, barely past boyhood, and his hands began to shake. He didn’t know what to look at or what he was expected to do. He had never seen wounds that deep before and didn’t know if he was supposed to try to close it, or talk to his friend, or run down the mountain and call for help. It was Oji who spoke first. “Don’t be scared, Kefier,” he said, his voice as calm as a bubbling stream. He smiled. He was almost always smiling, Kefier realized in a moment of panic. “We’re going home, aren’t we? Should’ve done it sooner, but it’s not too late yet.”
“Save your strength, Oji. I’m going to get the Yn Garr man to help us get you down.”
“Should’ve turned back the moment I got here,” Oji murmured, oblivious. “Didn’t need this at all. Thought I did.” He was gazing up at the sky, his eyes searching the stars. He seemed to focus on one and smiled. “Funny, that.” Kefier waited a few moments before starting to ask what he meant and realized that Oji wasn’t moving anymore.
Kefier slumped back and stared. There were no tears in his eyes.There was, however, blood on his hands, his shirt, and the unsheathed sword on the ground beside him.
Travel through mountains, into dark forests, across steppes, and over the ocean without ever having to worry where the toilet is in The Agartes Epilogues.
