By Brian Ruckley
The area has fallen from its former nation. The conflict among the clans of the Black highway and the genuine Bloods has unfold. For Orisian, thane of the ruined Lannis Blood, there isn't any time to grieve the lack of his family members, brutally slain by means of the invading armies. The Black street has to be stopped. despite the fact that, as extra blood is spilled at the battlefields, so both sides within the clash turns into extra riven by means of inner dissent and disunity. Amidst the mounting chaos, Aeglyss the na'kyrim makes use of his new-found powers to curve every little thing and everybody round him to serve his personal mad desires.Meanwhile, the long-dormant Anain are stirring - and whilst the main effective race the area has ever identified returns, the bloodletting may perhaps by no means stop.BLOODHEIR is the beautiful sequel to Winterbirth, probably the most acclaimed epic myth debuts of modern years.
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Extra resources for Bloodheir (The Godless World)
The Voice of the White Owls was an old woman, silver-haired, stooped, slow. She wore the pale, speckled feathers of the owl around her neck. She leaned on a staff of oak. She whispered as she came, murmuring phrases that had been passed down over centuries as tools to focus and clear the mind. The healing woman followed in her footsteps. They found the na’kyrim on his knees in the centre of the lodge, beside the ashen remains of the fire. He was flexing the fingers of his right hand, opening and closing them again and again.
Their purpose was not the imprisonment of the na’kyrim but his protection. Ever since Aeglyss had been taken down from the Breaking Stone and brought back here, there had been ill-tempered argument and dissent. This, the heart and home of the White Owl clan, the ancient vo’an around which its life turned, had been shaken. Children were kept out of sight while their parents met around the fires, arguing, accusing. Some wanted to kill the na’kyrim, to cut his throat and leave him for the eaters of the dead in the forest, as befitted an outsider, a betrayer.
It should, perhaps, be burned when the na’kyrim was gone. “Wait,” Aeglyss snapped, reaching out to her, clawing the air. His eyes were pressed shut. ” With a great effort he shifted to the edge of the pallet. He opened watery eyes, swung his feet out to rest on the ground. “A passing moment only. It is so . . so much, you see. You could not imagine. The Shared runs in me like . . ” “You are bleeding,” the woman observed. Aeglyss glanced at the bloodstained bindings and gave a faint shrug. “Leave it.