#tratr

It follows four people: Ajrael, a quiet man who just wants a simple life but people keep looking to him for leadership; Shar, a fire-touched wise woman who just wants to save as many people as she can get her hands on; Rast, a brilliant swordsman-cum-philosopher who everyone agrees should never be in power but is a devastatingly effective hand of the king; and Vael, a woman who's decided that she will kill whoever she has to make the world a better place. (Of course they're a polycule, but it's complicated and messy and shifting and human.)

It's set in a crumbling empire. Hedgewitchery is part of every day life, but magic—well, that's the stuff of legends. Legends like the Head and the Heart, two folk leaders who the Heralds of old proclaimed will come to save the people in their darkest hour. Ajrael, of course, is the Head of the People—all logic and reason, a person that everyone trusts to do the right thing, no matter what it costs. Shar is the Heart of the People—someone who listens and loves harder than anyone should be capable of. We will be talking extensively about political theory and its applications, but in a fun way!

(it does turn out that they may also be the Heralds. time is a circle, don't you know.)

There are also many interesting side characters. The goddess of fire—hearth and war alike—Promethea (<- I am going to try to change her name but it's TOUGH). The trickster god/dess, Raoke (who usually takes the form of a cat. he does look alarmingly like Smoot.) Two old twins named Gem and Kurza who should not, under any circumstances, be trusted (complimentary). Karv, the emperor (who is Vael's father. please forget about this fact immediately) (he's delightful in an evil way).

As you can tell, I'm normal about things like hounds and desperate stands and anarchy and duty. These books say nothing about me as a person please don't try to psychoanalyze me—

Here's a snippet from the second book:

“I’m sorry, Aj. I know you never wanted this, but I think it has to be like this. You’re the only one who can carry this burden.”

“And what a burden,” he murmured, sadness etching lines in his forehead. “But… it should be Rast. He’s bolder, more forceful—a stronger leader. Men flock to him. With you at his side and me as his advisor—”

Shar took his hands gently. “If Rast ventured into the Deathdeeps themselves, I would pull him out. But you—I would follow you in.”

Ajrael laughed shortly, looking away. “Even if I was stupid enough to venture into the Deathdeeps, I’d never let you throw your life after mine.” 

Shar flashed him a crooked smile. “You couldn’t stop me.” She saw the retort forming and forestalled it, kneeling before him and resting her forehead against their joined hands. “Ajrael, please. I pledge my fealty and my fate to you. Where you go, I go. When you fight, I fight. If you live, I live, and if you fall, I fall beside you. I bind my life to yours with this breath and my last breath.” 

An anguished sound made her look up. Ajrael’s eyes were closed, his brow creased with pain. “Shar, I can’t watch you kneel. Not to me. Never to me.” 

She tightened her fingers. “Only to you.” 

He tilted his head back, as if there might be answers in the sky. Then, before Shar had time to protest, he had dropped to his knees and raised her hands to his mouth. “Shar, I pledge my fealty and my fate to you. Where you go, I go. When you fight, I fight. If you live, I live, and if you fall, I fall beside you. I bind my life to yours with this breath and my last breath. Let it be so.” 

Shar tried to snatch her hands away, but Ajrael clung like a drowning man. “This isn’t how it works, Aj. Please.” 

“Let it be so,” he repeated, meeting her eyes. His face was pale and his jaw was set. “Together or not at all.”