The False Thief

REDHIND » the collector

The cold blade slid against his skin as the rope fell away. The wind wrapped him in shivers and gooseflesh, without a single sliver of clothing to keep him warm. The forked river gurgled behind him and Manta Greycloud stood above him with his snow leopard myrmid at his side.  

Greycloud’s gloved hand stroked his myrmid’s head. “Redhind, you’re hereby banished from Sutik.” The snow leopard’s tail swished around the Manta’s leg, its blue eyes waiting to rip at his flesh.  

A woman stood beside Greycloud, her hands clasped before her and her back stiff straight. He hissed, “You bitch. You’re just going to throw away your only son.” He spit, scrambling to get onto his feet. His tucked his chin in, letting the rack of antlers upon his head wave with violent intent. He reared, ready to charge.

She grabbed both of his antlers and with a twist, they cracked in her powerful grip. He screamed as the blood flowed from the stem where his antlers had snapped. He looked up at his mother. Her gaze was cold. “You’ve been nothing but a waste of space since the day you were born. It’s time you wasted space somewhere else.” Her words poured over him, drenching him with a cold sweat. She was serious. She wasn’t kidding this time.

He scrambled to beg, crawling to her feet. “Hosta, please, let me have something. I’m your blood.”

“Leave.” There was nothing in her face but resentment and regret. Regret for having him. “You’re no longer a child of mine.”

He whimpered and touched the soft bloody holes in his head. Manta Greycloud barked, “Shahi, go get me his stones.” Time slowed as he watched the snow leopard’s hind legs crouch and as she lept, he found his legs and began running with the power of his past lives coursing through his veins.

She chased him.

Web Novel | Launches in September 2017 | Sign up for the chapter updates here

RUQSVAR » creature

Native to the Ridge, Ruqsvar were all but wiped out by Blackthorn's armies during the raids, when shade zvey conquered most of the eastern reaches. These creatures were the preferred method of transport up steep slopes and wintery cliffsides, but are now a rare sight.

Prior to the invasion of shade zvey in the Ridge, most warriors had a male Ruqsvar mount which they bonded to during initiation. Due to the nature of the bond, when the warriors of the Ridge were wiped out, so did their loyal steeds. Only a handful remain and are preciously guarded by their handlers.

Web Novel | Launches September 2017 | Sign up for the chapter updates here

BLACKCLAW » the false thief

“Dianthus,” his wife hissed. He lifted his head from whittling at the urgency in her voice and caught her eye for only a moment — and then his gaze swiveled towards the whisper of white that was emerging from the brush, the crunch of snow beneath massive paws. Dianthus’ throat clenched. He had only seen an ice bear from afar or saw the maps of their known habitat, far south from here. Yet here was one only ten feet from their porch, appearing like a phantom in a dream. Its coat was pure white, untouched by age, and its black eyes were beads beneath its flat brow.

The ice bear approached with a strange reverence, and reached the side of the crib with its head bowed, taking huffing breaths to scent the air. “Marit,” Dianthus choked and barely felt Thyme grip his sleeve, stopping him from taking a step forward.

Laughter bubbled from beneath the blankets and the muzzle dipped down into the cradle, stealing the breath from his lungs. After a moment of bated breath, the beast lifted its head and regarded them. A clawed paw stamped into the snow and the ice bear shifted its weight, curling black lips away from yellowing teeth. It roared, a grating bellow, deep from its gut. Blood froze in his veins, and he choked on air as the ultimatum echoed in his ears.

Thyme whispered in his ear, “Blackclaw. He is the Blackclaw of Velski.”

Web Novel | Launches in September 2017 | Sign up for the chapter updates here