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About the Author

Brenna Nation resides in a crowded old row home in Baltimore, MD. After graduating from the University of Maryland with an English degree, Brenna began her career as a marketer for media companies. Her first book, The Shattered Lands, was born from early morning wake-ups. When she’s not writing, she can be found petting her dogs, getting tattoos, searching for the spiciest food in the room or crying to Taylor Swift songs while she drives around aimlessly. You can follow her writing journey on TikTok at @brennawritesnow.

Dedication

For you, my reader.
You deserve to have your stories told.

CHAPTER ONE

The Saints no longer heard their pleas for mercy.

That much she knew. The thought pushed her forward as she gripped the hilt of her dagger more tightly. The Home could not afford another night of her returning empty-handed. As she positioned herself against a large tree, she looked up to the sky. It was a deep shade of grey – as it had been for months now, but it seemed darker … sinister even.

It would make her hunt that much more difficult.

Sapphire tugged the sleeve of her ill-fitting tunic back on to her shoulder and tightened her cloak. To her right, a gaunt squirrel rustled the leaves, attempting to burrow into the damp soil, hunting for scraps just like she was. Dagger in hand, she focused her eyes and mouthed a fool’s prayer to the Saints, hoping they would allow her this one favour.

The dagger pierced the creature’s abdomen and it let out a desperate cry. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to taking a life, but morality had no place in barren lands. Gathering her kill, she headed out of the woodlands.

When she stepped into the Home, she could tell something was different. No one met her at the door. And the musty smell she was used to had been replaced by something sticky, something sweet enough to almost make her stomach turn.

It did not fit the weathered and draughty walls of this place.

As she slipped off her cloak, no one rushed to help her. There was no hum of voices.

Something wasn’t right.

She pressed her thumb into her palm, tracing the thin, jagged scar that ran across it. As she moved deeper into the hall, she noticed a tiny flickering light in the centre of the makeshift dining room.

Cautiously sticking her head through the doorway, she sighed in relief as she took in the smiling faces.

‘Happy birthday!’

On a table in the middle of the room was a small cake that must have taken months of rations to make.

‘I – this was not necessary,’ Sapphire sputtered. The images worming their way into her mind were uninvited and unrelenting. These now-smiling faces staring up at her, twisted in pain. Their bodies hunched, curling inwards on themselves as spasms of hunger overtook them. Those rations were worth more than some silly cake. Worth more than her. She wanted to cry – and scream – that she was the only one that saw the truth. Martia should have known better.

‘It is your eighteenth birthday. It was necessary.’ Martia’s tone was sharp, and Sapphire bit her tongue in an effort to swallow the poisonous feeling welling up in her. ‘Take this as an expression of our gratitude for –’ … a pregnant pause filled the air as Martia’s eyes scanned her, finally landing on the fallen creature tucked into her bag – ‘bringing dinner.’

Sapphire offered Martia a tight-lipped smile, knowing she should be grateful – but the words she wanted to say, about how foolish and short-sighted this all seemed, weighed like ashes in her mouth. Still, when her eyes found Lyna’s, she felt the smallest tug of peace. The eleven-year-old’s face was lit up with excitement. A spark of joy she hadn’t seen there in years.

That might be worth some wasted rations.

When Sapphire was given her piece of cake, she quickly passed it to Lyna and Susanna when Martia wasn’t looking. The draughty room warmed slightly as the twins hugged her tightly before running off with their extra serving.

Sapphire was eighteen now, the age at which Martia had thrown many before her out into the world. Their beds were given to children who could not defend themselves from the cruelty of Witrotean. Sapphire had always known that the land was overrun with orphans. The Home was one of the few places those children could find refuge.

But, out of desperation, Martia had made a rare bargain with her. A bed in return for meat. A bed in return for victuals. A bed in return for whatever forageable scraps existed out in those Godforsaken plains. Sapphire was to provide in a way Martia no longer could thanks to age, and war. The Home needed her, and both women knew it. But there was no telling for how long. Nobody was guaranteed a bed or a home in Witrotean any more. She pushed away from the table, rushing to the washroom, seeking relief from the pressure building in her chest.

There, she stared at her reflection. Haggard and tired. Her brown skin dulled by the constant cloud cover of the Witrotean sky. Deep-set bruises had settled beneath her mahogany eyes. Her long, thick hair was tangled from the hours spent in the woodlands’ unforgiving wind. Her face was gaunt, a sign of the famine and the nights she could not find rest. Too withered and worn to be so young.

In the hours that followed, she prepared her kill from the day. The small animal hardly offered enough meat to be worth her time, but it was better than nothing. Then she cleaned the kitchen, willing to do anything to distract herself from the thoughts that consumed her.

Martia found her standing near the window later that night and offered her an extra blanket.

‘I have been given more than enough today,’ Sapphire reasoned, but Martia shook her head.

‘You will accept the kindness I extend to you, child.’ Martia shoved the blanket forcefully into her hands. ‘Now, get to bed. The candles must be blown out before midnight. You know that.’

Sapphire accepted the blanket and obeyed.

She had not earned such kindness, she knew that. The meal she had provided that night was hardly enough. She could see in Martia’s face that it was only a step short of failure but still, it was more than anyone else had offered.

As she approached her bed, she saw that something was out of place. A small stack of objects she didn’t recognize was sitting on her thin mattress. As she picked it up, she noticed that it was a mix of charcoals and one jar of red paint – a gift from the girls who slept around her. Tears spilled over, hot and heavy with guilt.

When she could no longer tolerate the weight of the guilt she shouldered, she walked over to where Lyna and Susanna slept. It was winter and the timeworn walls of the Home were little protection from the chill. She placed the large blanket over their sleeping forms and Lyna hummed with satisfaction.

‘I hope you had the best birthday, Saph.’

Sapphire bent forward, placing her lips to each of their foreheads in turn and listening to their murmured thank-yous before getting into her own bed.

She sighed, rolling over in the small uncomfortable cot. Anger and grief swelled inside her; the weight of the others’ hunger resting on her shoulders was crushing her. She had been carrying that burden since war arrived at their doorstep two years ago. The memory was still vivid in her mind, the Mothers locking them in hidden rooms as Beasts tore down doors and took lives.

Martia was the only Mother to survive.

She had come to Sapphire the day after the Fall, grasping her chin in a wrinkled hand.

‘You are a few years short of adulthood – I’ve tossed far more useful girls from this place at your age. But,’ she added, her exhaustion obvious in a way it never had been before, ‘I will make you an offer. I train you how to wield a blade, you gather food for all of us, and you may remain.’

And so they began.

Sweat and tears filled the following weeks. She worked with the dagger, razor-thin slices coating her fingers like lace gloves, but she refused to give in. Sapphire knew she wasn’t ready when Martia sent her into the forest, but the desperation in the Home was nearly suffocating. The burden of stopping the slow death march of starvation from claiming them all now sat firmly on her shoulders.

She dug her nail into her scar as she recalled the memory, potent resentment coursing through her, as familiar as the worn scrap of fabric she pulled tighter around herself as the damp chill of the room began to settle into her bones.

It was then she heard the ringing of the bells, signalling the midnight hour. A warning to all those who lingered in the dark to return home and lock their doors.

The Beasts were hunting.

At the twelfth toll, she allowed herself to accept the other thing it signified as well.

Her birthday.

A deep breath in. A deep breath out. She closed her eyes tightly and willed her mind to slow.

Then the world fell away.

Mercy, not another vision …

The scene in front of her was familiar. Too familiar. A mostly felled willow, half tilting optimistically towards the sky, half splintered and shattered, rooted next to the girl she could never reach. It was dark, the world shrouded in frightening shadows, but as always, the girl’s cardinal red hair caught her eye, a guiding light in the storm.

Sapphire stared for only a moment longer before beginning the trek forward.

Her chest swelled as the pathway gave way to tall grass, each blade trailing against her skin. It only took the smallest brush at her back to let her know she wasn’t alone. Something nearby was watching her. Watching and waiting. Her heart rate spiked, as a spark of fear ignited her body. She was always the observer in these visions. Never noticed, never seen.

She took another step and finally saw the flowing hem of the girl’s black dress. She paused as she always did, waiting for the thunder to roll. She felt her shoulders relax slightly at the familiar sound. She knew what came next. She waited for the lightning that tore through the sky to strike the girl and end her life.

Sapphire would be left alone. And then she’d wake in a cold sweat, and spend the rest of the night staring out of the small window of the bedroom.

It always happened that way.

But today the girl spoke. Her voice was like a siren’s song.

‘Help me.’

Sapphire froze, fright rooting her to the spot.

‘Help me, Sapphire.’

The second time, the voice was harsher, no longer a plea but a demand, and Sapphire’s fear swelled. Still, she felt the pull between them. She allowed the tension to force her forward.

The sky above her began to swirl, the storm coming to life. She hesitated, eyes wild as they took in the scene.

The girl spoke once more. ‘The storm is you. It will obey.’

Sapphire attempted to block out the voice. The mysterious words only caused her panic to grow.

Three paces. That was all she needed to reach the girl.

The shadows parted slightly, and Sapphire was close enough to see her outline. Her stomach clenched at the thought of being this close as the lightning struck. Close enough to hear what it sounded like when the electricity split her bones.

From the shadows, she saw a pale hand emerge, the crack of thunder filling the air, and in an act of desperation and terror, she lunged for the girl.

The second their hands touched, lightning struck – and the world went black.

When Sapphire awoke, the musky scent of a campfire flooded her senses. Despite her poor excuse for a bed, whatever she was lying on now somehow managed to be even more uncomfortable.

She groaned and rubbed her eyes, taking in her surroundings.

No draughty windows that let in too much winter air, no row of beds that she and the others had long outgrown, no Martia yelling that they were already behind on their morning chores. This was not the Home.

The world around her was vivid, with large raised plateaus and basins formed from brilliant stone varying in shades of deep red, tans, and oranges in every direction. This was nothing like Witrotean. She pushed off from the ground, and on to her feet.

Mercy, nothing about this was familiar. Sapphire breathed the smallest sigh of relief when she felt the familiar weight of her dagger at her hip. She picked a direction at random and began to walk.

The old makeshift nightgown that draped over her thin frame was ripped and ruined. Martia would be livid. Her shoes were missing as well – mercy, she might as well never return.

There was no clear direction. No obvious pathway. But she continued to move forward – turning right … and then left … but nothing looked familiar.

After about a mile, her feet begged for relief. The terrain tore her skin and a trail of bloody footsteps now stretched behind her.

In her despair, she almost missed the movement to her left – almost. She hurried to slip behind a tall tree, peeking around the trunk to get a better look.

A dark-skinned girl, who looked around Sapphire’s age, was sitting on a quilt with her legs stretched out, reading. Her lips were slightly parted, brows knitted in focus as she hurried to turn the page, engrossed in the story.

Sapphire watched for a few more moments as she smiled at the book with such innocence that Sapphire felt guilty.

She looked away, unable to handle the thought that she could not prevent what was about to happen; convinced this was just another vision – just another person she could not save. Sapphire stepped backwards in an attempt to gather herself but stumbled over a large rock, almost falling over.

The girl closed her book quickly at the noise, jumping to her feet and frantically searching until her eyes found Sapphire. Although her face showed fear and intrigue, her features were elegant and Sapphire admired how lovely she was. But when she met the girl’s eyes, she was taken aback by the sight of irises that burned red like the embers of a dying flame.

With her book clutched tightly to her chest, the girl took a careful step towards Sapphire.

Panic.

Sapphire knew her visions well. They came at all times of the day and night. She had adjusted, memorized them. But this … this was not like what she knew. Never once had a victim approached her. Sapphire stepped back, feeling for her dagger. She blinked a few times, attempting to adjust to the hot sun on the back of her neck, the warm breeze that felt so foreign to her.

‘Who are you?’ The girl’s voice was steady and calm.

Sapphire did not want to answer.

‘What are you doing here?’

The girl’s lips twitched, and she gave a heavy sigh when Sapphire refused to answer her.

‘I’m Evera.’ She closed the distance between them by a few inches. ‘Now, can you please tell me your name? What you’re doing out here … dressed like that? Anything?’

Sapphire took a deep breath before speaking.

‘That all depends.’

‘On?’ Evera pressed, intrigue instantly overcoming her caution.

‘On where exactly I am right now.’

Evera’s expression shifted, but she held her ground.

‘You are in the fields of Aleburn.’

‘Aleburn?’

‘Yes. The southwest territory.’

‘Of what?’

‘The kingdom of Eriobis, surely.’

‘Er-e-oh-bis? I’ve never heard of it.’

Evera gave a deep, shaky breath before taking a few steps forward. Her face was pinched in a frown, but her mouth fell slack as she met Sapphire’s eyes.

‘What?’ Sapphire positioned herself to fight, her fingers dancing on the hilt of the dagger.

‘Your … your eyes. They’re …’ Evera paused. ‘Where exactly are you from?’

‘Witrotean.’

‘I’ve never heard of such a place.’

Evera shook her head, and now it was Sapphire’s turn to feel overwhelmed. A sharp pain split her palm, and she looked at the scar that ran across it, red and risen.

She needed this vision to end.

She reached out for the girl’s hand, hoping that contact would bring the nightmare to a close just like it had before. But in the blink of an eye, a flame erupted from Evera’s palm.

Sapphire retracted her hand quickly, stumbling over the rock behind her. She hit the ground hard, a yelp escaping her lips, though her eyes never left the dancing flame.

Evera’s gaze remained on her for a few more moments before she extinguished it.

‘Sorry. I thought you were going to –’

‘Attack you?’ Sapphire got up, brushing the dirt off her nightgown. ‘Well, if I was thinking about it – I definitely won’t now.’

A small smile played on Evera’s lips. ‘What element do you belong to?’

‘Element?’

‘Yeah, I’m Fireborn, obviously. What are you?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Evera frowned. ‘Are you OK? Maybe you hit your head and you’re confused.’

‘Where I’m from, people can’t casually ignite a flame in their palm.’

Evera’s eyes lit up. ‘Are you a mortal?’

A mortal. Sapphire had only heard that word used in discussion of the Beasts and their prey. Her fear reignited as she realized she could very well be in the presence of a monster. Yes, she was a mortal, and mortals ended up dead when they found themselves in the presence of a monster.

‘I –’

‘But if you are a mortal, breaking the barrier would be impossible. How did you end up here?’

‘That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.’

‘This doesn’t make any sense.’

Sapphire almost chuckled. Finally, something they could agree on; but the fear she still felt caused the laughter to die on her tongue.

An uncomfortable silence followed until Evera finally spoke. ‘I think you should come with me.’

‘I’m fine on m–’

‘You’re barefoot and in a nightgown,’ Evera quipped back, taking in the girl’s appearance once more, her eyes softening in sympathy. ‘My mother will be able to help.’

Martia’s voice rang out in Sapphire’s mind: Never trust a stranger, my girl. The woodlands are full of creatures born of deceit.

‘All I need is a change of clothes, then I’m on my way.’

Evera nodded. ‘Yes, of course. Follow me.’

The walk seemed to last for miles. Sapphire began to pant under the hot sun, Evera tossing her worried glances as they journeyed towards her home. Finally, rows of small stone houses came into view: a village bustling with life. But Evera opted for the path that led around it. To their right was a large canyon, water glistening at its bottom. Further on stood an incredibly tall mountain with a fire burning at the peak.

Finally, her guide turned towards a small stone cottage that looked identical to the couple of hundred or so that they had already passed. Pausing at the gate, Evera gave Sapphire a half-hearted smile.

‘Just wait for a moment. I need to let my mother know you’re here.’

Sapphire watched as Evera disappeared behind the grey door. Sapphire did what she could to stay calm, tracing the scar on her palm. Several minutes passed before Evera reappeared with an older version of herself in tow. The woman’s eyes mirrored her daughter’s, red and apprehensive, but lacked the softness Evera’s held.

For a fleeting moment, Sapphire wondered if she ran, how far her raw and blistered feet would take her.

‘Hello. My name is Lelani. My daughter tells me you’re in a bit of a bind.’

Sapphire met Lelani’s gaze, and the woman tried her best to hide her flinch. Sapphire did not miss Lelani giving Evera the smallest push, putting her body behind her own.

‘As I explained to your daughter, all I need is a change of clothes, and then I can be on my way.’

Lelani looked her up and down twice before she spoke.

‘You are exhausted.’

Sapphire began to interrupt, but the woman raised a hand to silence her.

‘You are exhausted, and your feet are in a state. Why don’t you come inside and rest while we try and sort things out, hmm?’

Sapphire wanted to say no. She wanted to refuse the woman and her kindness, but as she peered around the village, she wasn’t sure where she would go. She needed shoes, and water, as the thick burning in her throat reminded her. So she nodded and the woman allowed her to pass through the gate. Once inside the cottage, Evera led her to a small table, pulling out a seat before heading up the stairs. Lelani joined Sapphire, her face suspicious.

‘What is your name?’ the older woman asked.

Sapphire chewed on her lip, wondering if it would be unwise to reveal more about herself to these women. But exhaustion weighed on her. She had to trust them, even if she knew she shouldn’t.

‘Sapphire.’

‘So, Sapphire, can you tell me how you came upon my daughter?’

‘I was just trying to get home,’ Sapphire snapped, her tone more defensive than she had intended.

‘And where is home?’ Lelani continued, her face unreadable. She was clearly unfazed.

‘Witrotean.’

‘I’ve never heard of Witrotean.’

The woman’s tone spoke volumes. Sapphire knew what she was thinking: liar.

Still, the answer chipped away at her resolve. Witrotean was a war-torn hellscape, but for her, it was her only home, the place where she’d grown up and, more importantly, a place where she knew how to survive.

‘How do you not –?’ Sapphire choked on the words, the muscles along her throat clenching in tiny spasms from thirst, but Lelani did not move to comfort her.

‘Is there anything you can tell us? Anything that could help us help you?’ Lelani asked.

Sapphire considered the question, but when she met the woman’s cautious expression, she knew honesty had no place at this table.

‘No.’

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