The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 6) – Fantasy Series

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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She was there with him in the hazing flames. He watched her through blurred eyes, twirling in the smoke and colour, smiling through the glare. They reminded him of her. Not in the poetic fashion so alien to his heart, but in the heavy tug of sense memory. How often had they looked into fires together? They had faced down destruction and ruin. They had felt the heat and smelt the char, carried the burden of their own proficiency in death. It had hurt, it had weighed heavy, but they had borne it without fear because each had carried the weight of the other.

“It turns out, I’m really not that strong when I’m not standing on your shoulders.”

He drank again. He shook the ale down his shirt and coughed it in a mist on to the flames. He wondered how it would come for him this time. What would be first? The gavel of the favoured? The spitting torches of the mob? The tossing of what little he had from the only small corner of the world that was left to him? Yes, that seemed most likely. Homelessness would do for him first and the rest would come later, when he was forced to do what he must to survive. If you were here, it wouldn’t matter. We would laugh as we left and build again elsewhere, where we thought they couldn’t reach us. But they can reach us everywhere, sweetheart. And I’m tired of building.

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The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 5) – Fantasy Series

By Chris Wright

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Ryda had seen healthier looking mares dragged from the Dalsta River after the drunken celebrations of Horseman’s Day. They had the look of two butcher’s sacks – all bones with only the merest missed bits of meat and gristle. Patchwork fur of brown and grey stuck like weeds from the discoloured skin of the nearest, while its mate seemed to have been shaved entirely, or else grown bald through age or lack of effort. Ryda expressed these views frankly to the sheriff, who responded with a look and a thrown saddle to the gut.

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The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 4) – Fantasy Series

By Chris Wright

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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The painted red sign inside the sheriff’s office helpfully informed Ryda that he was in Kelsa Tur. The name was familiar and he pondered upon it as he scratched at the irritated skin of his manacled wrist. He wasn’t manacled to anything, which was always nice when he found himself in these situations, but his wrists and ankles were chained together, forcing him to sit uncomfortably upright in the stiff wooden chair. The seat opposite, across the stark and creaking table, was vacant as the sheriff stood fiddling with files across the room. Kelsa Tur. No, it was no good. He’d barely been listening when the captain had told his crew of the colonies and he couldn’t be bothered to think deeper on it. Still, it was nice to know.

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The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 3) – Fantasy Series

By Chris Wright

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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She was there. She had waited for him; he should have known she would. Gods, she was beautiful. Her hair shimmered in the blinding light, casting long-fingered shadows upon the ground. Her cheeks were flushed and lightly-freckled and her hazelnut eyes captured his and held on. The air around them seemed to dance and whisper. It whipped her hair and carried her sweet scent, jasmine and derotess flower. He took her in, every single inch of her, every sight and smell, the tinkle of her laugh as he stared for too long. She grinned her wicked grin and he felt himself respond in kind.

He tried to move, to stride forward and take her in his arms, but he couldn’t. His feet were stuck, as if bolted to the ground, and he struggled in vain. The wicked smile grew wider, but he was starting to become desperate, tugging at his legs, begging them to move. And then there were voices, odd and uninvited. She was fading. No. They were taking her from him. He pulled and pulled, reaching for her, shouting her name. Please. No. But the voices were growing louder and she was almost gone and soon it had all faded to black. Continue reading

The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 2) – Fantasy Series

By Chris Wright

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Ryda twisted his body away from the punch, raising his hand to guide the arm around and past him. The man responded quickly but Ryda gave himself a little boost as he spun, reaching out with his power and pushing against the wall. The wall pushed back, whipping him around quicker, and he slammed an arced hand into the man’s throat. Hiroka sputtered and wheezed, stumbling backwards with bulging eyes. Ryda pressed the advantage, not bothering to duck a wild swing as he moved into his opponent’s guard and ended the fight with a solid punch to the solar plexus.

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The Demons’ Cry (Chapter 1) – Fantasy Series

By Chris Wright

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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His world tipped and rolled, screeching its displeasure, threatening to fall apart. Again. Cruel, biting water spat in his face, stinging his eyes, and his stomach gargled and spun. By the Gods, he hated the sea.

They’d said it would be better up top, where his eyes could make sense of what his body could not, but the vomit continued to rise up his throat and his mind continued to whirl, like the ale clutched in his hand was his thirtieth, and not his third. He drank from it, throwing half down his shirt and wincing at the salty taste.
Footsteps, heavy boots on wood, rang out behind him and a rugged greeting lost itself to the wind. He turned.

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