Eógan, Esker, Guillaume, and Liadan opened their eyes simultaneously, quickly realizing that they were not awake. The laws of physics did not seem to matter in the strange place they found themselves in. Up, down, motion, and stasis were no longer distinct states; they were now part of a continuum. It was as if one had a flip book arrayed on a table and all of the pages were visible simultaneously. Scale and perspective were also equally warped. The four of them were within the entryway to Lady Galdr’s bog, between the grasping roots of the crooked tree, except now it was impossibly large. Each fingerlike root extending from the toppled base of the tree was thicker than the oldest tree in a forest. Beyond the gnarled spirals of the roots and the neat grooves of the bark, a vast expanse the color of Foxfire pulsed. Craggy islands floated in this void, some iced over and frozen, others lush and inviting. Many clustered in orbiting archipelagoes, while others were isolated and disconnected.
As each of them tried to process the surreal qualities of their surroundings, they noticed the marked differences in their own appearances. Eógan’s skin was adorned with both familiar and unfamiliar guardians. The pair of serpents on his forearms had returned and were calmly coiled, as if basking in the sun. The deer on his lower legs had flourished, the stag’s antlers had grown into an impressive rack. He stared in wonder at the symbols of power and protection that joined them: taking the form of animals knotted and intertwined with the shapes of nature. He could not see it, but he felt the presence of a powerful guardian upon his back, its senses and aura alien to him. Esker drifted between kata, the martial movements of her people. She once again possessed both arms, now her left was formed out of stone. At first she trembled at the memory of the horrifying vision she had while recovering from her injuries, seeing her left arm erupt in an uncontrollable flow of rock. The arm that she moved with ease and grace was different from that of her nightmare; this arm was delicate in its strength, masterfully proportioned where the other had been craggy and misshapen. She could feel down to the fingertips, as if they were made of flesh instead of stone and felt the hum of attunement: she was now one with the spirits of the earth.
Guillaume was distressed by the eldritch unfamiliarity of the world he found himself in. Part of his apprehension was cumulative, he had been thrown out of any sense of comfort or normalcy since his first encounter with Esker. But the truth was it had begun well before that, his journey as a squire had been fraught. He had lacked any real control over his circumstances for possibly his entire life and that resentment bloomed within him. His defiance initially felt like a tiny knot twisting within his internal organs. As his frustration and angst grew, so too did this force buried inside him. It did not expand symmetrically, he could feel angular protrusions bursting from the core. It soothed him as it grew, the distressing stimuli that threatened to overwhelm him softened and quieted. His emotional state returned to his happiest memories: his early childhood spent frolicking in the rolling hills near his parents’ manor in Saxonland. The sweet tartness of blackberries bursting in his mouth as he carefully reached past the brambles. He was no longer lost in a greenish-yellow void, he was at home curled up near the hearth of his parents’ manor. He was in a cocoon of protection and felt its dimensions expand as they strengthened around him.
Like Guillaume, Liadan also looked internally: she found solace in her faith. The Broken Man and the Holy Mother would always be beside her, no matter what hardship she faced. The warmth of her belief flared and filled her with strength. Its radiance brightened and drove back the sourceless witch light. She was not immolated as it intensified into a conflagration all around her, yet she could feel the flames of piety and felt sorrow for those who might test its conviction. She had felt elements of this devotion before, especially during her communion with the Broken Man, but this alien environment had crystalized her faith, honing it into an instrument of righteousness. She nearly gasped from ecstasy as she felt pressure along her shoulder blades culminate and wings burst from her body, golden and resplendent. Due to the alien physics of this greenish-yellow dimension, flight did not have quite the same ramifications as the material world, however, that did not stop her from enjoying her newfound ability to soar.
A voice spoke from everywhere and nowhere, “You are safely asleep dearies and will experience no harm.” It was the voice of the crone, Lady Galdr. “I brought you here so that you could make proper introductions to one another. We are in the land of dreams where your consciousness is able to express itself without the limitations of your corporeal prisons.”
“What does she mean by that?” Eógan asked without moving his lips, as he looked about and placed his hand on the side of the massive root nearest to him. Guillaume and Esker snapped to attention and stared at him.
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“I can understand him,” Esker thought aloud and Guillaume’s mouth fell open at the smooth, rumbling tones of her voice.
“It appears we can all speak to one another…” Guillaume thought pensively. The translation was instantaneous and reached each member of the group.
“Indeed Jotling,” the witch’s voice projected into their minds. “Novel, is it not? Without the material world to distract us, the illusions that divide us are dispelled.” Her cackles decayed wildly throughout the dreamscape.
“Why have you summoned us Lady Galdr?” Liadan asked.
“Because you are needed,” she responded simply. “I am but a conduit: I cannot shape the future, I see patterns in the weave and seek to strengthen that which binds us together.” Lady Galdr emerged from a small knothole in the trunk of the crooked tree and walked down it towards where the others were cluster. She appeared in the guise of a tiny child, carefree and joyful. “The land is threatened and rests upon the edge of a precipice. Without intervention, there will be chaos and destruction.”
“Speak plainly if you seek my aid, I have no patience for riddles and a tongue that coils like a snake,” Esker replied bluntly. She was floating upside down, near what resembled the thumb of the root system hand that reached downward from the base of the toppled tree. Esker tested her stone arm once more, flexing each finger and bending the wrist, before dropping onto her palm and propelling herself upright, or in an approximation of what that meant in relation to the others. Eógan was across from her near the middle finger, while Liadan fluttered her wings and whorled through the air towards Lady Galdr. Guillaume stood perpendicular to the root representing an index finger and began to gingerly walk up it, wobbling at times due to the vertigo induced by the subjectiveness of what constituted up or down.
“Perhaps we should show more deference to the wi- I mean, Lady Galdr,” Guillaume said.
“Worry not Jotling, I appreciate the Tengu’s spirit and her point is taken. Unfortunately my visions are incomplete: I know that we are on the brink of a terrible calamity. Preventing it requires the involvement of each of you and your people.”
“Why us?” Liadan asked.
“That has been laid clear lass,” the witch said as she gestured towards each of them. “The land of dreams reveals potential to be unlocked from within and allows the mind to project its ideal physical manifestation. In my case, I wish to return to the innocence of youth, yet in life I recognize the importance of being treated with respect and so take the form of a wizened woman.”
“Is that why you use that glamor?” Guillaume asked. Eógan looked at him with a new curiosity.
Lady Galdr burbled with pleasure. “I thought only the Pechtling could see true, what do you think of your own abilities little one?”
“My own abilities?” Guillaume was puzzled, he felt that he had barely kept his composure throughout this trying ordeal and was jealous that all his companions had taken on wondrous transformations.
“Yes Jotling, your considerable powers. Think on how you reacted to your arrival in this dreamscape. You instinctually protected yourself and found respite. Where did you go?” Lady Galdr gently guided Guillaume to introspect.
“I… I only returned to my memories and thought of when I last felt safe,” he said, downplaying anyability or power.
The childlike avatar of Lady Galdr beamed and pointed out into the nebulous expanse of greenish yellow, dotted with floating islands. “Those floating masses are each of your memories,” she said as she pointed to the more inviting ones, they were verdant and alive with life. “And these are your traumas,” she said as she held her palm towards the isolated saw-toothed crags of rock, encased in ice. “You may revisit any of these moments in your lives. Your mind seeks to protect from your traumas by presenting them as inhospitable, yet there can be power in confronting them when the time is right.” Lady Galdr turned back towards Guillaume. “What you did when you arrived here was different. You did not access a memory, you physically returned to a moment in time. You are capable of nullifying even the most potent magics and with practice will understand the magnitude of what that means for the weave.”
Eógan had been quietly observing, but now interjected, “There must be other reasons you brought us to this place?”
“Indeed Pechtling, I fear our most immediate enemy is communication. None of you are able to speak with everyone else. Liadan comes the closest, yet even her linguistic skills exclude the Tengu woman.” Guillaume’s eyes snapped to Esker, he had considered the Tengu an it, or when more generous had associated her with masculine qualities. He now felt guilty for misgendering her and viewing her as a monster. Lady Galdr continued, “I suspect each of us has an incomplete understanding of the peril our land faces and we must harmonize those perspectives to form a cohesive narrative.”
“And we cannot do that here?” Esker asked.
“Unfortunately, I will be unable to sustain this state of awareness much longer. As ironic as it sounds, despite being in the land of the dreams, I need to rest my weary mind. I am taxed from recent events.”
“What do you propose my lady?” Eógan responded.
“Why the answer is simple, we need to expand your minds even in the confining prison of material world. There is ablue tingedfungus that you can find in the sandy soil of a riverbank that was recently flooded.”
“You want us to gather mushrooms?!” Guillaume interjected in disbelief.
“Indeed I do,” Lady Galdr said. Then she slept.
Dark steampunk fantasy webnovel
The world of Rohana exists beneath a barrier of luminous crosses. Here, the Rohana Federation bends to Rohai, whose staff bears seven crystals of immense power. His Church of Harmony has divided civilization: city dwellers harness crystal technology while villagers cling to simpler traditions beyond the Church's reach.
In Haugstad, a forgotten village, Haran Baratti and his son Heron knew fragile peace. Then, unknown assailants burn it to ash. Haran draws the attackers away, giving Heron a chance to survive. His final words: We will meet again in Tiwaz.
Star-cycles later, Heron must earn an adventurer's passport to cross borders closed to villagers. To reach his father, he'll navigate crystalline cities and brutal hierarchies where allies carry secrets as dangerous as the enemies.
What to expect:
- Dark steampunk-inspired power fantasy with extensive world-building
- Magic systems where power comes at a psychological cost
- Visceral, well-choreographed combat sequences
- Mysteries that unfold across multiple volumes
- Steampunk aesthetics merged with elemental magic
- Stories where the actors are often found in morally grey areas
This work will appeal to readers who enjoyed:Works of Dan Simmons (Hyperion, Drood, The Terror), The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, A Song of Ice and Fire, Fullmetal Alchemist, HunterxHunter.
More influences and details can be found on the novel's page.
Chapters (1200 - 1500 words) are released daily at 20:00 (8 PM) GMT+1