book
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In the morning, the friends found themselves not in warm beds but in a freezing tent. Their body heat seeped out through the thin shell of second-hand polyester. Benj, first to wake, tiptoed out of the tent, letting in a draft.
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The trees that surrounded the area loomed over the site like ancient guardians protecting their tiny treasures Nat and his friends hunkered down into the snow-covered grass, bracing themselves against the chill wind that blew in from the north of them. It smelled of wood smoke and burning gas.
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Deck dragged out his hiking bag and bug-out bag and crammed two more sets of clothes into the bottom. Pilfering the back corner of his closet, he located the four-person all-season tent and sleeping bags.
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A gaping maw yawned at his feet. He tripped back from the gravesite as the white coffin descended the black hole. Dirt broke away from the sidewall. He slid, crashing into slimy sludge. A hollow scream of death threatened to burst his eardrums as he fought to get out of the mire. Something in the…
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Fane woke to a throbbing headache. The last thing he remembered was walking into a dance club with Shelly, Ajay, and the prince. The sky shifted to a soft grey in the window, jasmine dancing against the pane. He scrambled to sit up. “Oh, crap! I’m going to be late.”
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“Is this what you do in the evenings when I leave you here?” Fane leaned against Prince Orlov’s doorframe to watch the man hacking and slashing at the air in his Nurvo Gear.
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“You want me to believe this djinn newb has never played in a gear before? At that level?” A built half-orc woman looked the party up and down.
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Fane stood inside a massive wood-panelled hall with a high elf, an orc, and a mouse person. Tables crowded with a variety of beast people, elves, and other species sprawled across the big room. A few waved and called out to Ishan and the team.
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Fane and Ajay stood in the hallway with Zahar, Chaitan and the other bodyguards for the royal family. The King, having answered to Chaitan’s knock and noting the congregation of men waiting on their charges, closed the door in their faces, telling them that it was private business amongst the family.
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Fane shifted, his skin prickling at the heavy embroidery rubbing along his scars. He still wasn’t keen on the new clothes, though he was getting used to them. He studied himself in the mirror hung on the inside of his wardrobe. Black kurta, black churidar, black leather jutti. He had to admit, it all moved…
Chapel Orahamm 