The Prelude to Darkness
Page 45
Lord Sariel had unsheathed his sword and sat back in his darkened throne, glowering. “My Bringer of Dusk. Who is he?”
Amos could not help but smile. “He is a warrior, Lord Sariel. Revered and feared. There are none who are his equal, not in strength or in wit. And when darkness overwhelms him, there is no greater monster.”
“His name,” Lord Sariel demanded.
When Amos gave the name, the dark god’s smile nearly split his face.
Darkness would rise, and then, the Chains of Fate would be broken.
Amos knew that, beyond any doubt.
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The Great Fate churns once more.
A disgraced knight is tormented by endless nightmares. A young and fearful priestess sits the Crystal Throne of Mother God. Smugglers and reavers hold dominion over every shore. A resentful and battled hardened imperator is tempted by a power he does not understand. All the while savants and seers are wracked by visions of a cold and desolate future.
By prophecy or by steel, a storm is near at hand, and none within the great kingdoms are prepared for the reckoning to come. For it is a time of change and upheaval, of secrets and trysts, of swords and fell sorcery.
And the onset of the Darkness Rising.