The only sounds to be heard in the early morning as the sun rose over Liuerpwl were the light rustling of the trees in the breeze, a few birds singing and occasionally a dog barking in excitement as its master rose. As the villagers finished breaking their fasts and prepared to start the day’s work, soon the quiet would be overtaken, but for now Anael took the opportunity to enjoy it.
The full moon called a hail of stars down from the sky on the night the devil came. The wind blew with a force that made walking against it not unlike trying to push a boulder uphill. It sent the rain, sharp and cold, straight at you so that it stung where it hit bare flesh, almost as hard as if it were hail. This would have made it hard to see anything, even had the moon not already been buried by the thick, dark clouds. There was no clear divide between the sky and the land, the whole of it being draped in a shroud of black without end.
I've just put out a new YouTube video talking about Iarraindorn, which I hope to release in the summer, and with my wife Dee reading the prologue. Check it out here!
There was air coming into the box. But that didn’t mean it was easy to breathe. Her chest was tight, her breaths coming in shallow and rapid, and her head swam. The time in which she was jostled about by movement felt endless while it was happening, then appeared to have taken no time at all once it was done. After that she was laid down flat somewhere, the only accompaniment to her own ragged breaths being the occasional low murmur of voices.
Piralael wasn’t on Novalis. The assembly had confirmed this using sky-watch, a live satellite image showing the entirety of the island from above which they had then switched over to infra-red. There was one concentrated heat source within the village hall, with everybody gathered, and innumerable spots too small to be human beings that frittered about the island’s forest, but nothing else. There was no other human being on the island beyond those in that room.