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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

He headed northward, aiming for a series of craggy hillocks too stumpy to be called proper mountains. From what he’d gleaned from Mister Rose’s and Dahlia’s conversations, Nal Eston should be nestled somewhere amidst these very features. Somewhere.

By the time he reached the first canyon winding its way between them, however, he was out of food and down to his last swig of water, which he’d been rationing one drip at a time onto his tongue while the relentless sun tried to scorch holes in him as he made his way across the oven-baked plains.

His thirst was getting painful, so he tipped the waterskin upside-down and thumped the bottom to release its scant contents. A final, stubborn drip hung to the rim, refusing to drop, so he licked it off before stowing the canteen in his pack. Hopefully he could refill it soon. If not…

He tried not to think about that, nor the incessant clenching sensation that had taken up residence in his stomach. He’d survived drownings, brutal beatings, and stabbings, but he didn’t know whether he could die from lack of food and water.

He wound his way from canyon to canyon, a veritable maze from which he was certain he wouldn’t be able to escape, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t, for he’d always planned for this to be a one-way journey.

Nal Eston, if there even was such a place, remained stubbornly hidden. He stopped traveling during the sun-scorched day, instead resting in whatever shadows the canyons provided, shifting position as the sun arced overhead. At night, he’d continue his journey, trying his best to ignore the all-encompassing feeling that he was being watched. Like the rocks themselves had eyes, every one of which was staring right at him.

Weariness, and lack of food and water swiftly became a problem. He occasionally spotted small lizards and rodents scurrying across his path before vanishing into cracks and crevices in the rocks. Which meant there was water to be had somewhere, but there was a good chance he was too large to access it even if he knew where to look.

He stumbled, not because his foot had inadvertently hit a stone, but because his strength failed him. He went down to one knee, considered trying to push himself up again, but then reconsidered, slumping onto his side, breaths heavy, cheek pressed to the dry earth. Apparently he could be weakened by dehydration and starvation, as he hadn’t felt any of the warm, healing tingles in days. But could he die? He suspected he would soon find out.