Sarnai4

Chapter 1 Snippet

Perched along the cresting of a giant hill that stood at the edge of thick, tall trees, stood a house topped with a thick layer of sod as had been done for generations. And from a central chimney, flowed a thin stream of blue-gray smoke that disappeared up toward the big sky. It was that time of day, the twilight between the day and night which cast elongated, finger-like tendrils across the undulating hills. A well-made wooden fence surrounded the property that acted as a marking more than to keep anyone or anything out.

💛 What is the title based on? In The Language of Wolves, the magic that the protagonist, Niv, uses is called Dearnith, and it’s basically a different way of communicating with the world. In Dearnith, each “thing” - material, living being, etc - has its own language, or a way of communicating with its “particles” or “essence”. Derin-Agan - The practitioners of this magic - can learn these languages and use them to shape the world around them. The “Language of Wolves” is the language Niv must use to communicate with Wolf, the deuteragonist, a half-human, half-shapeshifter.

💙 How has the idea changed between starting it and where it is now? Mostly, I’ve added a lot more characters and experimented with the overarching themes. It hasn’t undergone major changes so much as it’s developed and become more detailed.

💜 Where are you in the writing process? Currently, I’m outlining and working out the finer details of the plot. I haven’t started the actual novel yet, aside from the snippets I’ve been writing for Moon June.

💔 Give a brief character bio of your 3-5 MCs

Niv: A fifteen year-old Derin-Agan who wants nothing more than to leave her backwater village behind and study in the capitol among her own kind. She’s held back, however, by her grandmother, who wants her to follow in her footsteps and become the next leader of the Redcloaks, the elite band of hunters who protect the village from the Shape Thieves who inhabit the neighboring forest. She’s driven, passionate, and curious, but also arrogant, stubborn, and tempestuous at times. She’s torn between the duty she feels towards her family and what she wants for her own future, and will find herself forced to make a choice rather soon.

Wolf: A human-Shape Thief hybrid. Abandoned in the Forest of Shapes at birth, his human heritage has been woefully neglected, and he was never taught to speak; However, rejected by the full-blooded Shape Thieves, he’s taken to stalking the perimeter of the forest and observing the humans he can find, devouring every drop of speech, action, and emotion. He’s a lot more intelligent than his circumstances would suggest, and, unlike his fellow Shape Thieves, would be able to use what he’s learned to blend in with other humans - If he wasn’t so timid. If the Redcloaks knew about him, they would stop at nothing to ensure that he dies quickly, and dies childless. A Shape with that kind of intelligence can’t be allowed to exist.

Finn appreciation post because he has more screen time in book 2 and is an underrated character 🙃

To celebrate the release of Darkling on June 21st, I'm holding a giveaway where TWO lucky winners will receive a hardcover copy posted to them, alongside all the pre-order goodies!

In addition to the pre-order items, the winners will also receive their own copy of the Handpainted Seaglass bookmark that I found while on holiday, that solved the writers block problem for me and single-handedly helped me to complete this book.

I reached out to the artist, and asked if she could recreate it for me!

And let's just say I'll be tucking a few more surprise goodies into the box as well!

How Do You Enter?

It's really easy! Head on over to my Linktree, and there's a button that will take you straight to the googleform.

To enter, you simply have to tell me your favourite line or character from Book One, Changeling!

This is an international giveaway. I will pull 2 names at random on June 19th, and reach out to the winners via email that day. Assuming I hear back from them in a timely manner, boxes will be shipped out from Monday June 22nd, or as soon after that date as possible.

Night Of The Justified Deaths: The magical lesbians get a new assignment! There’s a rogue grim reaper who’s killing bad people to rid the world of scum—Except that’s not what she’s really doing. And they need the help of more Greek gods to defeat her. Something something commentary about how mediocre people worship monsters who don’t give a shit about them to make themselves feel less mediocre.

Night Of The War Between Gods: The Greek gods learn the value of tolerating family for the sake of winning a second titanomachy against Kronos and his allies. And the magical lesbians get relationship advice from Hades, who has somehow become their adoptive father despite starting their relationship as their reluctant mentor.

Love Me Louder: An aspiring singer, a college rugby player, and an idol who dreams of making her own music fall in love. And there’s commentary about the dangers of playing rugby, and how it can and often does cause life changing injuries. Also there’s commentary on the toxicity of Japan’s idol industry, and how idols are meant to sell the illusion that they’re ‘available’ to their fans while not being allowed to form meaningful relationships with anyone.

When you need someone, trusting them can be that much harder.

Because it feels like you don’t have a choice.

And you have to let your guard down…

Even if you’re terrified.

"Why?" she croaked out weakly. "Why do you even want to help?" "Is it not enough that I simply want to?" Connorbar asked, but she found herself shaking her head. "To find Blackwood? To give us shelter? Sure, I suppose. But to find answers about my mum?" Lizzy hesitated. "I need you," she admitted reluctantly, "but that doesn't make it easy to trust you."

Darkling, Arista Holmes, ©2026

Darkling will be released June 21st 2026!

You can pre-order the ebook now on all platforms, including Itch. io. Paperback and Hardcover options have been uploaded but some platforms won't allow orders until release day.

Preorder goodies? Preorder goodies!

Hand Written Thank Note

Printed Character Art

Lizzy’s Pendant Sticker

Signed Bookplate

Bookmark

Digital Bonus Scene from Booker’s POV!

Woooo so I read @sarnai4 book ^^

I genuinely really loved this book! And that's coming from someone who's never been interested in books featuring pirates 😅. I love that one of the major themes include mental health, trauma and healing.❤️ Each member of Lesia's crew have struggled with some sort of stigma in their lives.

And as always, I am a BIG found family fan and there was lot's that here too! Plus no romance which I like ^^ Other motifs include leadership and sacrifice (Lesia shoulders burdens for others, go Lesia!) and survival and belonging. It shows that love and support can help heal trauma! I just think thats a sweet concept.

I also love the casual diversity within the crew! And I genuinely love Lesia's character arc throughout this story! (no spoilers tho lol). Even for the villain!

Also, the drawings in this book are also so good!

I really do recommend this book to fantasy lovers and people who love books about healing and found family! So go check this book out!!!

Mind of a Pirate : Briar, Sarnai: Amazon.co.uk: Books

That's nice to know about the drawings too! I've been a bit torn on whether I would include those in future books (kept hearing some conflicting ideas about that, so it's nice to see these being liked!)

BRANDED is available for pre-order! Enjoy my silly book cover reveal~

Barnes & Noble

Amazon US

Goodreads

Indigo

Waterstones

Audiobook:

Libro

boldly going where no cube roomba has gone before

Prologue

This is the only way.

It was the only thought Spark allowed herself to have as she drove her blade into the Shadow puppet’s back. Black mist streamed out of the gaping wound as they screamed, their howl briefly becoming an agonized prayer before she struck again, in their neck, severing their words and their head.

She swallowed hard as she let the broken remains fall to the grassy ground. She had lost count of how many times she’d seen or done something like this, but it still made her soul shiver.

Fretting about morals won’t win the war, Spark. We need that map.

Licking her lips, she crouched, hearing footsteps approaching to her left. It was her fellow Light spy. He’d been on lookout, making sure no one saw her hunting for survivors playing dead in the battlefield and searching for information.

“Did you find it?” he hissed.

Spark slipped her nimble fingers into the fraying pockets. Nothing. Nothing. Please please please-

In the depths of the third pocket, her fingertips touched parchment. Relief bubbled up inside her and briefly morphed her scowl into a grin as she displayed her find to the other.

“Excellent.” he reached for it, but she defensively flinched and pulled it closer, making him scowl in confusion.

“I know how to decode this perfectly well, thank you very much. And we’re looking for a way back to my barracks first, remember?”

He slapped her across the face.

She sighed and dragged a hand across her stinging cheek. “Thank you.” Puppets were created to be devoutly loyal to their god-Light or Shadow- above anything else. But that didn’t mean a puppet couldn’t get emotionally involved in the other side. If a puppet showed signs of getting too attached, it was their fellow puppet’s duty to bring them back to their senses.

“How do they get their moving barracks to stay hidden, anyway?” He muttered, fiddling with the buttons on his collar.

“Are you trying to gauge how much of their closely guarded secrets I have decoded, or did you just forget yourself?”

“I have never had the greatest memory.” He admitted quietly, walking over to peer over her shoulder.

She snorted. “A forgetful spy? I pray you don’t end up as scrap parts.”

He visibly flinched, and her mirth vanished as she realized too late how deeply she had cut. It was every puppet's biggest fear, being scrapped. When a puppet was deemed incompetent or overly rebellious, other puppets were ordered to take them apart, and whatever life force their god had given them was used for another creation, typically another puppet. Hopefully one more suited for their job.

She cleared her throat, turning back to the map. It was far too easy to decode beneath the stains and smeared ink. It was like Shadow was trying to invite Light soldiers to their moving camps. Shadow puppets lived and trained in wooden structures that could be moved with magic, they looked like barns with spindly water-strider legs. They would be laughably easy to spot, were they not so often well disguised with Shadow illusions. They were moved so often and disguised so well that even their own soldiers constantly needed maps like the one Spark had just to know where their barracks would be and where they would move to.

“Where are you headed?” He sounded bored.

“A little north of Deer Spine Pass.”

“Hmm. West of Poison Lake.”

“Poison Lake? Sounds fantastic.”

“Isn’t it always? Spy work is just great.” There was a hint of sarcasm to his voice.

She cast a sidelong glance at him.

Keep your mouth shut! Do you want someone to overhear and report and get us both scrapped for disloyalty?

“What work would you rather do instead?” She found herself saying quietly instead.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I know it is our duty to fight for Light and preserve Her power and glory and everything she has made and blessed in this world...but I feel like fighting isn’t the right way. There should be a safer way, one where no one has to die.”

“There is no better way to die than in service of the great god Light.” She responded.

It was a hollow response drilled into them from the moment of their creation and they both knew it.

“According to the map, they’re both in the same direction.” He beckoned her to follow as he walked. Spark’s cheek still stung. She hummed to herself softly, to try and distract the other spy, and herself. It was a marching song, common knowledge among most puppets of Light. She waited for him to strike up the first verse alongside her, but he decided to seclude himself in his mournful silence, staring at the ground.

“At least sing the first verse with me, it’s not the same without another voice.”

“My singing is terrible.”

She whimpered and pulled her face into an exaggerated mock-pout, but there was a genuine plea in her eyes. I’m covered in the mist of someone I just decapitated. In just a few moments we’ll be parting ways, possibly forever.

He groaned in defeat into his hands.

“Fine. Ahem.”

His singing voice was terrible, and he didn’t know most of the song, so he went quiet while she hummed or sang a few verses. It made for something soft and awkward and disjointed, but at the very end, they harmonized, voices perfectly intertwined.

“I’ll march with you, I’ll march with you...”

They trailed off, looking at the sky.

“Your singing is far from awful.” The lie came out harder than most, like her throat tightened to prevent the words from escaping, but once they did she felt lighter.  It felt good to say a lie that wasn’t entangled with war. Would that get me slapped again?

“Your singing is lovely.” He sounded completely honest, but she had no reason to believe him.

“Thank you.” she stepped back, to walk away.

“My name is Bracken.” He blurted. “May very well have changed by the next time we meet, but...it was nice singing with you.”

“Call me Spark. It was nice singing with you too.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

The sun cast fiery light over the fields and passes, once the epitome of serene nature, now torn to burnt shreds by days of puppets fighting. It sent a pang through Spark. If the gods loved their creations so much, why do they allow their masterpieces of nature to be destroyed? Spark had trouble shaking off the blasphemous thought as she trudged through the woods hunting for the Shadow illusion that concealed the barracks. Whoever cast the illusion was deeply talented, as they had made it almost undetectable. She got on her hands and knees, climbed the trees, and even crawled under bushes to try and detect even the slightest hint of Shadow magic. She found it after darting behind a tree at the sight of a vague movement in the air, like the presence of a ghost. She was close, the air was alive with powerful magic. Taking a deep breath, she called up an illusion spell of her own and pressed her fingers against the illusion, sending a ripple through the air and briefly exposing the fragmented silhouette of a stocky building.

Stepping into the illusion felt like stepping through a curtain of weak lightning, but once she rubbed the tingling from her body, she let out a sigh of relief and contentment as she took in the familiar surroundings. She knew it would get her slapped or worse, but it was the truth. It felt more like home than anywhere else ever would.

“Star! Oh my goodness, I’m so glad you’re alright!” There was a rush of motion and a patter of footsteps as another Shadow soldier jumped off his bed and ran towards her. Spark let out a cry of joy as she realized it was Rock.

Rock was exactly that, a rock. She could always hold onto him in the eternal tide of war, no matter how much it wore away at everything else. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

The funny thing was, he was never supposed to be in her life at all. Other spies had heard whisperings that Shadow had created a merciless sword fighter, whose power was immense, even for a puppet. Spark had been disguised as Star, and sent to find the warrior and destroy him. She had prepared for weeks for this mission, and had come into the Shadow barracks expecting a grizzled, powerful warrior whose nonexistent heart had been frozen by the war, and was focused on nothing but his Shadow-given right as a soldier, and would not hesitate to kill her if he ever found out her true loyalties. Instead, she found a soft-spoken young puppet who would sometimes pause in the middle of a march to examine the delicate beauty of the flowers they sometimes passed, or tried to help an injured hummingbird.

But she’d quickly found that he had another side: He moved with the grace and agility of a dancer and was an unstoppable force once he had his sword in hand. Since then, she hadn’t gone a day without listening to him make quips as quick and sharp as his blades.

“When we lost track of you in that scuffle back there, I was terrified we lost you,” Rock’s relieved gushing jolted her back to the present. “I’m so, so glad you’re alive and in one piece.” He said again. Then, his warm smile cooled and his lips curled into one of his characteristic smirks. “After all, if we lost you, who would listen to all my amazing jokes?”

“Ha, ha.” Spark sighed and adjusted her weight on the barely used cot, feeling a lump underneath her. In the comfortable pause following this statement, she was able to quietly examine the dark flower of an idea that had begun to quietly bloom in her mind when she realized that her stolen uniform possessed pockets. Pockets perfect for hiding things in. She began to press her hands around the cot, feeling for the lump.

“Hey Rock, did you know there’s a town really close to these barracks? To the southwest of here, by the woods. It’s a little place, you might have missed it while we were coming here.”

“Oh, the little changeling town?”  He blinked at her in surprise. “Yes, I know it. Why?” He noticed she was now overturning her worn pillows. “Why are you so curious?” he asked again. “Also, what in Shadow’s name are you doing?” 

Spark quietly tried to overturn the mattress and flung her searching fingers into the dusty cotton until she found what she was looking for.

“Ah ha!” She triumphantly presented him the tiny, well-loved bag hidden in the slit she’d cut in the mattress.

Rock eyed it warily, as if it would suddenly attack him. “Do you have coins in there?”

“No, it contains the severed heads of my enemies,” she playfully rolled her eyes. “Yes, I have coins in here.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Rock asked quietly and she almost laughed. Both of them were well aware that puppets were only given life to fight, and technically couldn’t have any money to their names. That didn’t stop many of them from stealing, or bartering with actual citizens. People tended to not ask questions when money was involved.

Rock may have been a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, but breaking the laws of the gods was one line he never dared to cross.

“The changeling town has a famous farmer’s market.” She explained, slipping the coin purse into one of the cloak pockets. “I’m going to go see it, and hopefully buy something.”

“ ‘Hopefully buy something?’ with stolen money?” He repeated, aghast.

“Use your energy for something other than worrying. I won’t be long. But if I do take too long, I want you to cover for me. Tell the others I got hungry and went hunting.”

“I-fine.” He said, and she could see in his eyes that his puppet programming was silently warring with his devotion to her. She felt a flash of guilt, almost agreeing to stay in the barracks, when he nodded. “Be back soon?”

“I will, I promise.”

He nodded solemnly again, and it was the last thing Spark saw before she pulled her cloak over her head and rushed out of the barracks, struggling to hide her wild grin of excitement.

The farmer’s market was only a long walk away from the Shadow barracks, but it might as well have been in another world. The air was warm and rich with the smells of the various dishes and foods being hawked by the vendors, and any yells that echoed through here were not of pain, battle or war, but of playing children and laughing adults.

With a feeling of deep content, Spark closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She had no heart, but she knew that if she did, she would tuck this memory inside it. She wanted this sense of warmth and peace and life to remain for eternity. Spark opened her eyes and walked deeper into the market, determined to see as much of it as possible.

The vendors were infected by her determination, as they did not see a puppet, but rather a curious customer with money jingling in her pockets. They were on her in seconds and there seemed to be a new surprise around every corner. A changeling with a heavy accent and wolf like appendages thrust something glittering in her face.

“Jewelry! Very finest jewelry from the North! You like?”

Next to him, A meager stall packed with exquisite flowers, ranging from petite daisies to massive, drooping roses caught Spark’s eye, and she leaned in to smell a particularly luscious orchid. The vendor, an impossibly pale young girl with eyes like burning coals, noticed Spark’s delight and grinned, exposing sharp needle-like teeth. Spark grinned back, resisting the urge to shove her whole face in a bouquet.

“You must not be from around here.” The vendor girl chirped with a smile. Spark blinked, taken aback. Please do not tell anyone I am a puppet. Your vendor friends won’t see a friendly new customer, they’ll see a face to blame the destruction caused by the war on. I promised Rock I would come back.

“Yes.”

“I thought so,” the girl continued, turning to tend to some snow-white blooms. “Locals are never this excited about my little stall. Or any of these stalls, really.” The last sentence was spoken softer, more to herself than to Spark, and she felt a strange stab of emotion. She realized she hadn’t seen a single human in the market since she’d arrived.

In the hierarchy of the world Light and Shadow created, all creatures were loved equally by the gods. But this was not the case in the eyes of mortals. Most saw changelings at the bottom, below even temporary creations like puppets. Even the word ‘changeling’ was a reference to how humans believed that changelings were monsters simply pretending to appear more human than they really were, with their animal limbs and glowing eyes giving away the truth. Spark knew that wasn’t true. An entire race of puppets had been created so no changelings had to sacrifice themselves for the war.

“Well, they should. This place is wonderful.” Spark said indignantly. “How much for those roses? I have a friend who would like them.”

The bouquet was heavy in her arms, but her heart was light with joy and curiosity as Spark stopped at one final stall. The vendor, an old man with claw like fingers and beady green eyes, watched her quietly from his seat behind his wares, which were the most beautiful glass creations she had ever seen.  Giant glass orbs scattered multicolored light across the stall and across the other creations, which ranged from asymmetrical blobs to ornately blown spiders. It was too much. She must’ve stood there for a solid minute, simply drinking it all in, when she remembered her promise to Rock with a start. I mustn't be able to stare for much longer. If she wasn’t back in time for dinner, Rock would have to cover for her. She turned back to the glass figures and figurines, wanting all of it. Her eyes landed on an exquisite little light blue heart. It was the most perfect thing she’d ever seen.

“Excuse me? How much for this heart?”

HI! My name is nicolas, but you can call me nightfall399400, i am from brazil.

If you want to discuss topics like mythology and memes, feel free to send me a message; I'll always try to respond.

If you'd like to introduce me to a new topic, you can send it to me as well.

Currently, I'm developing a story called American Mythology; I'll post more about it here. If you want to stay updated on the story's development, just follow the hashtag #AmericanMythology.

Well, that's all, stay tuned and thank you to everyone who follows me, reblogs, likes, comments or sends me an ask.

As I'm sure you've seen me mention, Darkling is being released on June 21st 2026!

Darkling is Book Two of the Fey Touched Trilogy, but what if you haven't read book one?

Well, to make it easier for new readers to dive into my series, I've just made a permanent price reduction to Changeling's Ebook version across all platforms!

You can now get Changeling for $4.99usd, £3.99gbp, and with all other currencies price matched via conversion rates on each platform.

Ask me anything about my setting; if I don't already know it, I'll make it up!