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Back Forsworn
Chapters (53)
  1. Map of Kingdom of Finfalla and Surrounding Area- Western Half
  2. Map of Kingdom of Finfalla and Surrounding Area - Eastern Half
  3. Map of Kingdom of Finfalla and Surrounding Area - Full Map
  4. Important Trigger Warning
  5. Prologue
  6. PART I
  7. One
  8. Two
  9. Three
  10. Four
  11. Five
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Interlude: The River of Life
  20. PART II
  21. Thirteen
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. Seventeen
  26. Eighteen
  27. Nineteen
  28. Interlude: Fallow Fields
  29. PART III
  30. Twenty
  31. Twenty-One
  32. Twenty-Two
  33. Twenty-Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Interlude: Of Man and Monster
  37. PART IV
  38. Twenty-Six
  39. Twenty-Seven
  40. Twenty-Eight
  41. Twenty-Nine
  42. Thirty
  43. Thirty-One
  44. Thirty-Two
  45. Thirty-Three
  46. Thirty-Four
  47. POSTLUDES
  48. Postlude 1: Lana Vica
  49. Postlude 2: Ludo Vica
  50. Postlude 3: Cainan
  51. Acknowledgments
  52. An excerpt from Heartsworn, Volume II in The Forsworn Oath, available for preorder now!
  53. PART I

But then, all at once, like those strings had been snipped, he fell, snatching at the branches that flashed past. The rain, now sheeting, made it impossible to find purchase; even if his fingers were lucky enough to grasp a branch, they immediately slipped free once more. Inevitably, his legs clipped a branch, sending him into a tailspin, flipping, twisting, crashing and trying to shout, though any sound he might’ve made seemed to have gotten lodged in his throat, blocking any air from entering or exiting his lungs.

Until, after what felt like an eternity but also a blink of an eye, he landed flat on his back with a whump. Only then did the air explode from his lungs, leaving him drenched and wheezing, trying to catch a breath as fleeting as the passage of time itself.

How am I alive? was the only thought Faryon could conjure, a question that repeated itself over and over again, until it began to break apart, rearranging itself into a new meaning, a new message. I am alive. How? The ‘How?’ was no longer connected to the fact that he was alive and was instead a question that had plagued him ever since his father had told him of the River of Life, a story that had been meant to help him grow tired enough to sleep, but which had summoned the opposite effect: That night he hadn’t slept a wink.

I am alive. How? he thought again, even as something caught his eye through the tumult. A golden glow, so out of place within the shadowy forest floor that he wondered whether one of the coins had snuck from his pocket during his harrowing descent.

But no, this was no coin. This was the ooze of liquid, slow and methodical as it welled up from a crack in one of the tree’s roots. A crack, Faryon realized, that he had made when he’d landed so violently.

Gritting his teeth, he reached for that glow. Pain erupted behind his eyes, so intense his vision swam with unshed tears. The pain was in his chest and arms, while his legs felt perfectly fine.

No, he thought. Not fine. My legs feel…

But he never finished that thought, because his legs didn’t feel like anything. Like they weren’t there. Like they now belonged to somebody else.

Oh gods, what have I done?