Everdare

Awyer composes. He draws his hand along my spine. "If you do not exist, then I will not exist either. Make me as you are. Make me unseen. We can be together then." The castle town of Eldrade has not been invaded for nearly a thousand years. Protected by powerful barrier enchants, its people live in near seclusion, awaiting nothing; for they have long forgotten the balance of enchantments. They have long forgotten the consequences of their stolen color. One such resident, a sphinx-eyed boy, sits sifting grain in a most unassuming storehouse at the western docks. A modest boy in a modest task, there is nothing so remarkable about him. But all of that will change. All of it is already beginning to change. And it is my duty to help him. I who do not fully exist. I who should not feel for him. I who have begun to evolve. A war of magicks rages.