<>

Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Monday, April 30, 2018

a past to claim… Road of a Warrior (The Silvan Book II) by R.K. Lander

"The characters feel…well, not human, since they’re elves, but alive, realistic, and believable, and we get to meet more of them this time. [...]
The story is delightful, the characters genuine, and the narration gloriously artistic. If you like epic fantasy and tales of action, adventure, intrigue, and deep friendship set in a rich, powerful literary world, you’ll want to pick up this book." - Andrea L, Goodreads

Description:

Published: April 28th, 2018

A light in the forest, a king returned, a past to claim …

Fel’annár is an immortal half-blood warrior from the Deep Forest, an orphan whose questions were never answered. With a dream of becoming a Silvan captain in an army ruled by the Alpine elves, he is sent to protect a prince of the realm on a journey to Tar’eastór, land of the mighty Alpine elves and of Fel’annár’s own father – whoever he was.

His nascent power will continue to evolve as his shrouded past finally surfaces. The truth he never thought to hear will thrust him onto a path strewn with political intrigue, discrimination, danger and self-discovery.

Meanwhile, a failing king will rise from the ashes of grief and reclaim his place as leader of the Great Forest. Warriors will battle the enemy on the borders, while at court, councillors will clash over the racial divide that is pulling them apart. 

They say that civil war is coming, but one warrior can avoid it – if he can embrace his past, control his powers and accept the role he is destined to play.

From warrior to master and beyond, Fel’annár is The Silvan who can restore peace in the Great Forest, or cast it into eternal chaos.

EXCERPT

He had slowed his pace, and his eyes were now fixed on a small gate, beyond which a dull, grey garden lay. Fel’annár was frowning, King Vorn’asté’s question completely forgotten, for there was a strangeness in the air, a deep whisper of something long gone, an echo of grief and an unlikely scent of spring blooms. He turned, then took a step towards the tiny gate and away from the main path. If the others spoke, he did not hear them. 

His feet slowly took him to the gate. He could see the trees better now, wilting and spindly as they reached for the cold sun. 

It was a cry for help. 

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and Fel’annár swivelled on his heels, eyes wide, heart hammering. “Damn it, Sontúr.” 

One dark eyebrow rose imperiously, and Fel’annár opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it, and Sontúr smirked. 

“Forgive me, my lord. That was inexcusable.” 

Fel’annár dragged his hand down his face, and Sontúr frowned at the slight tremor. “What is it? You look rattled.” 

“It’s nothing,” he murmured, but Sontúr’s strong hand was on his forearm. He had not been believed, indeed the king and commander stood quietly, watching. 

“I was just wondering—why those gardens there have been abandoned.” His tone had been light and apparently unconcerned, but Vorn’asté, for one, was not fooled at all. 

“Why do you ask that?” asked the king carefully, a gleam in his eye, gaze momentarily turning to his son. 

Fel’annár’s scalp tingled, and a niggling pressure was building in his ears. He recognised the symptoms, and the familiar pang of anxiety squeezed his gut. His eyes stubbornly refused to leave the small wrought iron gate and the strange trees beyond. He tried to resist, because he was in the company of kings and princes, of Gor’sadén. It could not happen to him here, without Lainon, without The Company. 

“Fel’annár?” called Sontúr once more. 

It was cold, but the sun shone brightly upon the path. The air was laden with the smell of wet soil, and the chatter of robins and wrens flittered here and there; everything was as it should be—but it was not, not for Fel’annár. It was an illusion, as if nature had colluded to hide a secret—the secret that lay in the barren gardens. How could it be spring in mid-winter?

About the author:
I am one of the biggest elf geeks I have ever met. First inspired by the world of Tolkien, I began writing short stories, until the idea of the Silvan popped into my head. That was no short story but a sprawling 900 pages of epic fantasy.

The Silvan is my first publshed work, an epic / military fantasy with paranormal overtones. The story revolves around the figure of a Silvan elf, Fel'annar. The first in the series, Path of a Novice was published April 2017 and the second book is due to launch 28th April, 2018. A projected third book should be available in 2019.

I love connecting with readers, so please pop in and say hello. I’d love to hear your feedback and comments.


1 comment:

Unknown said...

Wonderful. Thank you for hosting!