[BOOK THREE OF "The Immortal Chronicles"] [ADVENTURE FANTASY NOVEL]
As tension in the civil war increases, conflict arises within the tundra of the Southern Wastelands where Attus Sally is being kept captive, and his wife is taken under the custody...
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Finley Orfi spent so many nights in the blistering cold temperatures of the Wasteland mountains that it began to effect her already chilling personality. It was a surprise that she ever managed to gain the companionship she had. She'd already watched all her other comrades die—what difference would it make to let this one be sacrificed to the storm?
The Southern Wasteland mountains were an enigma in the north—it was why Ravenwood was so interested in the sheer force of nature that caused average, everyday humans to shy away from it. Finley began to wonder whether or not it was nature, but some exterior force unbeknown to her fellow scholars. They weren't much for philosophy anyhow, or to preach of gods and goddesses. Anything that didn't support physical evidence of its existence wasn't worth their time.
No one quite knew how far the mountains reigned. The oceans this far south were scattered with icebergs and sheets of snowy slush that, when least expected, hardened and took ships under. Her and her comrades surveyed the slabs of ice out on the sea, and even spent a night stranded on an iceberg that broke away from the shore. The current brought them back to land.
A frown fell over her features, and she paused her work to assess the reflection that stared back at her. The cave was absolutely littered with flat, perfectly polished ice—perfect for drinking water. The minerals would be enough to revive both of their spirits, even if the dried jerky didn't.
"You say you came from Ravenwood," the woman said. Finley turned her head, glancing over at her last remaining comrade. Their friendship was mainly out of some innate empathy for people that Finley possessed. She wondered if it was a gift or a curse, and determined she had a lifetime to figure it out.
"That I did," Finley said, returning her eyes back to the wall. The woman's reflection shimmered behind the haze of the fire. With several taps of her ice pick, the icicle fell, and Finley grabbed it and tossed it into the iron pot waiting on the fire. "I was studying geology and natural sciences. I was sent here with a few other people to study the southern border mountains—it was promoted by Dornwich. You know, the capitol of—"
"Yes, I've lived in Faymoore for quite some time," the woman finished. "A little less than a decade."
Finley fell silent as she lowered herself onto the ground adjacent to the woman, somewhat hesitant to appear too pleased to have a companion. When the icicle melted, she removed the pot from the fire and let it rest on a slab of flat stone beside her. Eventually, she cleared her throat and said, "Where did you live before?"
"Before?" the woman said, sounding startled by the question. "I lived in Damunt for most of my life." Finley watched her as she raised her hands up and tugged on the edges of her furry cap. There wasn't a speck of hair underneath that hat, and after watching over that encampment for so long, Finley was surprised by how calm the woman was about losing her identity there.
"I know what you are thinking," the woman said, a faint smile on her lips. "Just because I lost all my hair doesn't mean I'm anything less than who I am. It will grow back. Eventually."
Guilt tugged at Finley's chest as she nodded, drawing her eyes down to her hands. Her elbows were hooked around her knees, and after a moment, she inquired about the woman's life before the encampment. "I have a husband. He's Eastvalian—he came from a place north of Val'ren. Have you heard of it?"
"Yes. The ship that took us here came from Val'ren," Finley replied, swallowed harshly at the thought of this woman—a woman forced into the life of explicit sexual favors—having a husband. Would he possibly understand? Finley had plenty of Eastvalian friends who came from families who prized loyalty above all. One of her friend's fathers was exiled from their family for having relations with a woman other than his wife.
"Attus will understand," she said, as if reading the words off the edge of Finley's lips. "He'll understand."
PRELUDE :author's note
Orphans are given the prefix "Or" to their surname, followed by the first two letters of their first name.
