Page 6 - TheRedSon_PrintInterior_430pp_5.5x8.5_9-22-2019_v1
P. 6

PROLOGUE





            The retreat  of the Great Darkness made  a funeral  of the
            sky, a bittersweet  separation of past and present, fading
            memories filling the spaces between. I was more aware of
            the sky than myself. I never would have guessed it had been
            an entire year since my last waking recollection. It would
            take me some time to learn that the rest of the world shared
            my amnesia—what remained of the world, anyway.
               I was already on my feet as the night lifted in earnest,
            tumbling  upward,  clutching  tightly  the  time  it  had  stolen
            from  the  world.  A wailing  moved  in  tandem  with  the
            vanishing dark, a collective caterwaul signaling the end of
            something familiar, if not altogether dear.
               I was pleased when I realized my sisters were already in
            my hands, their curving metal smiles balancing the gathering
            dawn. Even stained with so much blood, they retained their
            cold beauty, rivaling the iciest brook that ever babbled
            through the apex of Autumn. Their pommels were calm and
            steady, and their laughter at my awakening sparkled through
            the air. My smile was automatic. They were my darlings.
               I did not wonder if my father still slept upon my back.
            I  could  feel  his  seething  dreams  surging  through  me  as
            surely as my own blood. The newborn light laid his shadow
            upon the forest, his massive axe-head showing monstrous
            and lethal, looming over me as ever he had. I was careful
            not to rouse him without the promise of killing. His anger
            demanded an awful price.

                                                       The Red Son | 9
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