#hearthstead

Author’s Note January 2015

Happy New Year, everybody! It’s been a good six months of shenanigans here at Ashes of the Endless and I’m looking forward to a year’s worth more content. Let’s dive into my plans, shall we?

There are approximately nine more chapters waiting to emerge after today’s post, which should get us into March. By then I will hopefully have been building on my buffer (something I’ve neglected through the…

As they stepped outside the drake’s eye was beginning to set. It turned from gold to red and fanned the colors of fire across the sky. The young smith’s father would say it was the sky drake’s body catching flame as its head plunged towards the edge of the world.  Under the light of the sky drake’s pyre the village changed. The gray stone became a faint pinkish orange. Pale plainsgrass, now more…

Author’s Note September 2014

August came and went pretty quickly, all things considered. My personal life was busy, but I still managed to make some strong progress on what I was to with the story here. I’m gonna jump straight to the breakdown here.

I’ve now reached the point where I’ve caught up to the setup I intended the introduction of Forging the Shade to have, and what was originally the post View from the River.…

VI. The Gold-trimmed Mantles http://wp.me/s4B8qa-choice

A torch’s fire winked out, followed quickly by the others. In a moment’s time shadows filled the commons except for the light shed by a single flickering flame. The old alekeeper Rik leaned against his counter heavily, his glazed eyes directed at the remaining torch. His son swept through the commons, scrubbing at mess on the stone with his rag and wetting it out with the bucket.

The tailor took…

Evenfall http://wp.me/s4B8qa-evenfall

When he left the smithy the sun was beginning to set. The eye turned from gold to red and fanned the colors of fire across the sky. His father would say it was the sky drake’s body catching fire as its head plunged towards the edge of the world.  Under the light of the sky drake’s pyre the village changed. The gray stone became a faint pinkish orange. Pale plainsgrass, now more red than white,…

View from the River

There was more to see out over the edge of the world, he knew, but from his spot on the bank of the river there was only an unbroken plain with a patchy veil of yellow-white grass fingers baking in the sun. Everywhere the grass didn’t grow were great black scars of ash. They choked out the grasses with salt and cinders that sometimes still glowed red if you kicked them up. Most had narrow…