Dawn of the Night

Old Dawn New Dusk: Dawn of the Night

Expected publication date: October 9, 2018

High Medieval Fantasy

*Content has not gone through final edits or proofreads, and is not formatted.*

Book 2 Excerpt


In battle, men die.

His horse had been tripped. He was able to jump free of the falling beast. A man, his steel armor no longer polished, his helmet long gone, stands over him a sword raised ready to bring death down. Down the sword struck easily parting the fallen man’s tarnished chain mail parting the faded blue and black hawk crest that once decorated it in half, slicing clean into his chest.

The fighting continues as it always does, his death isn’t enough to stop the men from their cause. But for her it is enough.

She leaves the safety of the hill she was ordered to remain upon. She accepts a leisurely pace as if time is of no consequence.

Men from both sides see her as she comes before them, her waist length auburn curls cloaked around her a clear sign she isn’t a soldier from either side. Men begin shouting for her to leave, arms waving her out of the way to return to her hill. Confused, in shock, some stop, others do not. All move aside. She continues her path, as if there are no blocks until she reaches the fallen man with the faded blue and black hawk crest.

Any man now aware of her presence has now stopped. They are now watching her. She does not know it, but she has bewitched them. The men are ready. Ready for her to leave, to resume their cause, yet relieved for the temporary break for breath, to regain their footing.

Standing over her fallen man, she gazes at the men circled about her. As if seeing them for the first time. She locks her eyes on his killer, his youth no longer present in his sun-aged face, his sword still dripping of blood. Her eyes fixed, she slowly drops to her knees over her fallen. She places her hand onto his wound.

All are watching, yet none can see. His color returns, his chest rises, his life returning. None can understand. Men follow her gaze to the killer. As the fallen revives, his killer is dying.

He clutches at his chest, falling to his knees, gasping for breath reaching out to those around him, all he reaches for back away.

They all watch but none can see.

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