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CHAPTER 1
Evening fell with a whisper. The day's thick-falling snow had abated with the failing light and now, as the sky turned deepest blue, the air was clear and still. Ve
At last he reached the clearing and, against all common sense, stopped at its edge staring dumbly forward. It had been years since he had last been here. The Land itself seemed to catch its breath, as if waiting for the tremors his return would bring. At last he stepped forward into the clearing, the ruin of his people hidden in his shadow.
He walked hesitantly, somewhat humbled by the grand, silent scene. Above him pink wisps of cloud catching the last of the light provided an unearthly backdrop for the place he had never expected to see again. The only sounds were his boots crunching through the snow and the occasional creak and groan of laden branches in the forest behind. He fumbled at his bearskin, trying to tug it tighter around his shoulders, but the weight of his shadow made it hard and after two attempts he gave up, leaving it open at his throat. His goal was visible now, and that was all that mattered.
The entrance to the cavern was only a hundred paces off, crowned by snow-burdened dwarf pines that covered much of these crumpled mountains. It abutted a long slow rise in the ground that continued for miles into the distance and formed one of the two crooked 'legs' of what was called Old Man Mountain. There was a shrine to a God no one remembered, derelict, yet still imposing, near the top. Ve
Ve
The cavern entrance up ahead was unchanged since he had first marched out into the Land, his swords strapped proudly to his back and his white mask hiding the man underneath. Free-standing brass braziers on either side of the enlarged cleft cast a weak light over the darkened interior and the sap of fresh spitting pine cones mingled with incense in the evening air. Each brazier stood atop an octagonal stem thicker than a man's waist, high enough that some priests had to stand on tiptoe to see over the battered edge.
They were centuries old and had suffered during those years. Ve
Was that the first step on this path? he wondered. That first loss of wonder: was that the day I saw my father as something other than an otherworldly servant of the Gods? Where once I beheld priestly robes and a half-mask of obsidian shards, I found just a tired man with thi
'Hey-! Hey, you!'
Ve
Ve
'Who are you? Why are you here?' Corerr called as he trotted forward to place himself between Ve
Ve
Ve
'Ve
Ve
at her breast, falling naturally into the conventions of piety learned decades before. Her hair was greying and crow's feet marked the corner of her eye, but for all that she looked a younger woman, one whose heart hadn't been broken by this wilderness.
Her half-mask was covered in obsidian shards, as his father's had been, but hers, crucially, also lacked the tear-trails of moonstone signifying high rank. He held his breath and focused directly on her right eye, letting the glazed look fall away for the barest moment. He saw her reaction, though it was so slight he doubted she was even aware of it – only someone looking for it would have seen that flicker in the eye, but to a follower of Azaer it was enough.
Ambition in a place such as this… you must hate them as much as I do.
After a moment, the priestess stepped to one side and offered Ve
He continued in silence, feeling as if he were being towed by some unseen rope. So focused was he on the image he was presenting that he found himself jerking to a halt at the far end of the tu