May 26th Fantasy & Sci-Fi Deals

Weekly Deals & Stories from Joshua Landeros

For a limited time only, Pantheon Omnibus Edition: Volume II is available for only $1.99! Grab your copy today!!

FREE PREVIEW

Chapter 1

Naaman prefecture ~Age 924

The teenage Sebelian sat quietly before the campfire. A full moon provided a radiant ambiance and an excellent distraction for his growling stomach. A serving of dried mushrooms had left him pining for more; his hunger was compounded by the bitter cold seeping into his bones. The blanket wrapped around his body seemed nonexistent whenever a harsh wind passed. His gray skin was marked with goosebumps. He wanted to extend the blanket over his knotty and wiry curls, but that would’ve exposed his bare feet. For now, he would settle for the numb ears over frozen toes.

The woodlands of Naaman prefecture were all around him, the occasional call of an owl echoing from the darkness. The ankle-high grass around the campsite was undulated in the frigid draft. The climate had run amok in Sebel the past three cycles. The beginning of the new cycle traditionally brought a warm spring and, with it, renewed life. Age 924 had not been so fortunate. He’d heard tales of cold lingering as far as the vernal equinox, which occurred during the first month of the new cycle, the 23rd of Enno. This cycle, the cold had lasted through all seven weeks of Enno and now bled well into the following month, Nisanu. If it lasts longer, I’ll need a coat for my sixteenth natal day. He had always appreciated that he was born in the summer, watching the sun smile down on each new cycle of his life like a blessing from Vah. He wilted at the thought of spending this occasion huddled against the cold inside the yurt.

“Did you enjoy supper, Namu?”

The Sebelian boy looked at the melodic voice and saw his mother emerging from the flaps of their yurt. She wore a deerskin dress along with baggy trousers and yinmar hide shoes. Dirty gray protruded through the brown of the left one where her big toe had worn through the leather. Namu lied to his mother with as sincere a smile as he could muster.

“Yes indeed, Ma. Maybe tomorrow we’ll get lucky and find a woodland pecker’s nest for some breakfast.”

“Just don’t go thinkin’ the parents will forgive and forget so easily. They’ll try to scratch your face and nip your ear off with those damned beaks. If a nest is too high up, it probably isn’t worth it.”

“Right, Ma. I think I can handle a few birds, though.”

Namu stood as his mother approached the campsite. The light of the fire brought no comfort, only a deep despair as she stepped into its glow. His mother had applied new wrappings over her nose, which came around and concealed where her right ear used to be. Her hair was like his, wiry and coarse, but as of late, it had begun to turn white and thin like dying grass. Her hands were bandaged entirely over.

Namu’s mother was a victim of the disease known as the Pale Tide. Three weeks ago, they’d scavenged off the scraps left behind by a larger group. Picking the tiniest traces of meat from rib bones wasn’t ideal, but it had kept them going. Just a week later, his mother noticed a loss of sensation in her fingers but thought nothing of it. Then, patches of albino skin appeared over her body. Now, the final stage had begun: the rotting of soft body parts such as the ears and nose. His mother, ever rational and composed, suspected just a single member of the group they’d tailed had been infected; otherwise, her son would have been struck by the Pale Tide. She praised Vah every night for that. Though Namu prayed along with her, he found the words felt empty. The warmth usually felt in his chest while thanking Vah for His many blessings had been replaced by a dark hole that only grew larger.