Chapter One
Bells rang out high above the city, Redwood, in the kingdom of Yalelia. It was something that Lucas had grown used to hearing, growing up in his castle. He sat in the small clover field that was walled off from the rest of the courtyard that rested behind the large stonewalls of the castle. Lucas stared up at the passing clouds in the vast blue sky with his oceanic-colored eyes.
“Lucas!” a shrill voice called out to him.
Lucas blinked, seemingly breaking a. . .
Prologue
Regrets are the instruments by which we learn. We tend not to repeat those things we regret. A remorse, I think, is a much deeper thing. I tend not to dwell on regrets. For all the pain they’ve caused me, they have allowed me to grow and become a better man, sometimes despite myself. I regret how I treated my first love, but it taught me how to better live with my wife. I regret not working very hard in school, but now I know to apply myself in my work. I feel bad about the thin. . .
Prologue
Regrets are the instruments by which we learn. We tend not to repeat those things we regret. A remorse, I think, is a much deeper thing. I tend not to dwell on regrets. For all the pain they’ve caused me, they have allowed me to grow and become a better man, sometimes despite myself. I regret how I treated my first love, but it taught me how to better live with my wife. I regret not working very hard in school, but now I know to apply myself in my work. I feel bad about the thin. . .
Alfred was tired. It had been a long, hard war, and though he had won it, he had barely rested since, knowing that the peace would not last long. For an English king, he had learned, it never did. There was always another war.
He had spent his entire reign defending his homeland and his faith against the hordes of Norse barbarians from across the sea. For nearly a century, they had been arriving in fleets of longships, raiding England’s coastline and laying s. . .
Alfred was tired. It had been a long, hard war, and though he had won it, he had barely rested since, knowing that the peace would not last long. For an English king, he had learned, it never did. There was always another war.
He had spent his entire reign defending his homeland and his faith against the hordes of Norse barbarians from across the sea. For nearly a century, they had been arriving in fleets of longships, raiding England’s coastline and laying s. . .
