Random book cover: The Terraformed World

FAROCHIN

 

A god is not easily undermined

 

Grief-stricken over losing his wife in childbirth, Karydor commands that his son be drowned. Carers choose to hide the new-born instead. The child, when his father realises his terrible mistake, vanishes without a trace.

 Ages later, suffering cycles of rebirth to walk in the same time as his son, Karydor discovers the identity of the man his son becomes and, in need of atonement, sets out to ease his path through life, hoping for a future when he will be able to look him in the eye without guilt.

 On Farochin, a world where the terraform is about to fail, Karydor, Kristyn, Echayn and Fletcher team up, hoping to save the world from the influences of FARA, the godhood responsible for the failure.

 A god, however, is not easily undermined.

A world is not effortlessly rescued.

 A father will step into that arena, though, because of the love he bears his son. This is Karydor Danae’s atonement.

F A R O C H I N

Audiobook Reviews

While getting the links for EURUE, had a bit of a scroll through my other audiobooks, and found a few reviews I hadn't noticed before:

All audiobook links on AUDIO BOOKS page 

Chapters 1 & 10: ANCIENT TERRA

Ancient Terra's links, along with AI images to showcase each book.

EURUE Chapter 1

EURUE Chapter 10

FAROCHIN Chapter 1

FAROCHIN Chapter 10

LYKANDIR Chapter 1

LYKANDIR Chapter 10

AVAELYN Chapter 1

AVAELYN Chapter 10

AVIOR Chapter 1

AVIOR Chapter 10

Chapter 10: FAROCHIN: The Terraformed World

 

Grief-stricken over losing his wife in childbirth, Karydor commands that his son be drowned. Carers choose to hide the new-born instead. The child, when his father realises his terrible mistake, vanishes without a trace.

 Ages later, suffering cycles of rebirth to walk in the same time as his son, Karydor discovers the identity of the man his son becomes and, in need of atonement, sets out to ease his path through life, hoping for a future when he will be able to look him in the eye without guilt.

 On Farochin, a world where the terraform is about to fail, Karydor, Kristyn, Echayn and Fletcher team up, hoping to save the world from the influences of FARA, the godhood responsible for the failure.

 A god, however, is not easily undermined.

A world is not effortlessly rescued.

A father will step into that arena, though, because of the love he bears his son. This is Karydor Danae’s atonement.

CHAPTER 10

 

Midges do more than bite; they serve as distraction.

~ Finli – Naturalist ~

 

 

Occra

Northern Coast

WITH first light they transported to a level area north of the fen. From there, according to Fletcher, it was a twenty-minute walk to the bridge in question. On high ground, the area overlooked the fen and the ocean, as well as giving fair view of the strange steppingstone peninsula that connected Occra to the northern continent where Ghant was the largest occupied territory. Ghant itself was a far grey smudge on the horizon. The steppingstones were giant outcrops of land around which the Natticus Sea swirled. Narrow stone bridges linked each bluff. The sound of almighty waves crashing drowned out even the calling of the seabirds. Karydor found the transport simple to achieve. Fletcher described the region; he pictured it and landed up exactly where envisioned.

“Now we’re talking,” the old man grinned when he appeared beside him.

Kristyn, on arrival, stared out to sea. Her golden hair lifted and spread in the fresh breeze. “Astonishing,” she murmured. “Does anyone live on those outcrops?”

“There is a lighthouse and keeper on the central one,” Fletcher responded, “and a tavern on another to ease the crossing, but otherwise it’s deserted. Gets pretty vicious out there in the elements.”

“Hoy there!” a voice called out, causing the three companions to jerk around.

In that movement, Karydor discovered his right hand instinctively reaching for a weapon at his hip. He possessed no weapon, but it was immediately clear to him he once wore a sword and was familiar with it. Muscle memory, he realised. In that moment, though, he forced the insight aside to focus on the newcomer. A moment later a huge smile bloomed on his face. “Naej!”

From a copse of twisted trees, a green giant emerged, wearing light-weave trousers and tunic of a dun hue, sandals on his massive feet. He was all smiles. “Captain! You made it!”

The two men met up and clasped arms, a gesture that had the Sagorin lifting an eyebrow. “This is new,” he said, chin gesturing at the clasp.

Laughing, Karydor disengaged. “Seems you were right. I am not Farochin.”

A giant hand slapping his shoulder nearly drilled him into the earth. “Finally. So, Captain …”

“Enough with the ‘captain’ nonsense.”

Chortling, Naej shifted his attention. “Good to see you again, Fletcher.”

“You, too, my friend. Glad you could make it.”

The giant looked to where Kristyn stood watching everything with interest. His olive eyes narrowed. “I feel as if I should know your kind, but the memory of you slips from grasp. Why is that?”

She smiled. “A long story. I am Valleur.”

His gaze sharpened. “Amber quartz. The Valleur mined amber quartz on Glorium, our homeworld, a long time ago.” He shook his great head, causing his multitude of thin plaits, a mixture of grey and black hair, to dance. “Strange; it feels akin to a dischant.”

“It is. I will tell you when we have time for that tale,” Kristyn murmured. She extended her arm. “The Valleur regard the Sagorin as friends.”

Naej gently clasped arms with her, smiling again. “You are here to help with the imminent failure of the terraform?”

She inclined her head.

“Did anyone else make it, Naej?” Karydor asked.

The big man nodded. “I heard that Lariki washed up on Anaphus and went to check on him. He got bashed about pretty badly and is still at the healer’s in Napi Vale. I promised to sneak back in and collect him in about a week.”

“Glad to hear it,” Karydor said.

“No need to blame yourself for what happened. That wave? There was no besting it.”

Karydor shrugged. While that was true, it did not serve to mitigate his feeling of guilt. He changed the subject. “And just how did you manage to ‘sneak’ in? You?” Grinning, he indicated the overt presence of a giant, one with obviously green skin no less.

Naej roared laughter. “I have my ways!”

“Glamour,” Fletcher pointed out.

Rolling his eyes, Karydor said, “We are invited to a meet on the bridge at ten bells.”

The Sagorin gaped at him. “The sorcerer’s bridge? How in hell did you manage that? No one has set foot on that bridge in more than fifty years.”

Karydor smirked. “I have my ways,” he said, which caused the giant to roar laughter. He readied to deliver a back slap, an action Karydor fortunately had the foresight to duck away from.

“Oh, behave,” Fletcher muttered, “both of you. Let’s get to walking.”

 

The Fen Path

THE PATH wound down to bog territory. It still stank, but here the ocean breezes somewhat lessened the stench. In single file they negotiated a sliver of a path through the insect-ridden stagnant ponds. Periodic white stones revealed the way.

“In the past this place was more visited, particularly by leaders in the know, and the residents of yon stronghold considered it wiser not to dump folk into the fen,” Fletcher informed when Kristyn asked about the marker stones.

“Why can’t we see this stronghold? It’s so flat,” Kristyn said.

“I think the main question here should be …” Naej began, only to be interrupted.

“Sagorin, one would swear you never ended up in the ocean,” Fletcher muttered. “You’re like a youth with your ‘insights’. Have you not questioned me to near death already?”

Karydor, at the head of their column, halted and turned. “Yes, Naej, how is it you show little ill from that dunking?”

Thick grey eyebrows beetled upward in a green face as the Sagorin came to standstill along with the others. “Were you not hearing me back on Walkin? I am immortal. A dunking …”

Karydor held a hand up. “I thought you were being facetious.”

Naej shook his head.

Blinking, Karydor simply stared at him.

Shrugging, Naej stepped forward, forcing everyone to go on moving, including Karydor, who wordlessly swung around again. As the Sagorin walked, he talked. “A storm such as we endured curtails the ability to employ our talents, which is why I did end up in the water unable to transport out. Had I been able to, I would have fetched everyone away to safety, but it did mean I could not drown. Think about it, Karydor. That was some event; we should all be dead. Yet three of us made it. What does that tell you?” Karydor did not answer. Huffing about stubbornness, Naej went on. “Lariki is a Sylmer, which means, the moment he is immersed too long, his legs transform into a fish tail. He, too, could have helped us to safety, kept us afloat, swum us to calmer water, but unfortunately, he suffered severe breaks and bruising when a portion of the deck bore him into the depths. He survived it, because he breathes under water, but it took him a while to free himself from the wreckage. Yes, only an immortal Sylmer is able to walk on two legs.”

Karydor growled under his breath.

“And then there is you.”

Without turning this time, Karydor halted … and waited.

Between the two men, Fletcher and Kristyn glanced at each other, but neither dared interfere. Crossing his arms over his mighty chest, Naej braced with one foot tapping the soggy ground impatiently. “It took me a while to figure it out. Your mind-set wasn’t that of a youth. Your insight spoke of otherworld knowledge. The sometimes-instinctive actions you took, much like you reaching for a sword earlier, revealed your muscle memory knew of a different way …”

Karydor swung around. “Just spit it out.”

“Reborn, my friend. You will remember who you were at the same age when you underwent your Immortality Ritual.”

Much like a statue, Karydor did not move, other than a flicker of his left eyelid.

“We cannot wait for that,” Kristyn said.

The Sagorin lowered his gaze to her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning Karydor achieved the Ritual at an age that will see most of Farochin dead before it will come to pass again. Valleur live long.”

Huge green arms loosened. “He is Valleur?” She nodded. “Well … fuck.”

Glaring up, she demanded, “And what does that mean?”

“The dischant sunders in hearing you claim race. You lot deliberately made us forget, but now I remember the Valleur again. If Karydor is Valleur … man, we’re talking old. Before the split between the golden and dark kind.”

Suddenly alarmed, she whispered, “Do not say the dark kind name.”

Licking his lips, Naej nodded.

“Interesting that you would know of such a split,” Fletcher murmured.

The Sagorin gifted him a baleful look. “I am no seer, Trinian. I happened to cross paths one day with a survivor of said dark kind and he told me a story one drunken night, a story I have never forgotten. See, he spoke his name and had I not been immortal I would surely have died. In the morning he did not remember, but I did.”

Karydor reanimated. Swearing foully, he took to the path once more.

 

The Fen Bridge

FLETCHER’S claim of a twenty-minute walk from the height they arrived on was off the mark. The path through stinking pools twisted and meandered so much, it was closer on two hours before a bridge came into view. By then tempers were frayed, for every step was plagued by flies, mosquitos and other flying leeches. The bridge was there, but no sight of a stronghold.

“It’s shielded,” Kristyn discerned. “This is why we cannot see it.”

“In the past the invited found the edifice waiting, but no one sees it now,” Fletcher added. He scratched at his chin. “I wonder who is within. There is no record of the sorcerers who left Trin and there is no record of them here.”

“Only one way to find out,” Karydor growled, and stepped onto the bridge.

“Foolish,” Fletcher muttered, but it was already too late.

At the far end a form materialised as if exiting a doorway. It did not approach; it waited. As Fletcher set foot to the stone walkway, another form appeared. Kristyn, about to follow, found herself detained when Naej gripped her shoulder and halted her. “We wait. Someone needs to remain outside … in the event.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Fletcher nodded his agreement and, thus, huffing, she stayed put. Karydor meanwhile strode across. His temper had now taken over.

The first form, a tall man hooded and cloaked, stepped forward and held one gloved hand up. “Halt. Do you know who you are?”

Frowning, Karydor came to a stop. The words made sense to him, and yet it was not Farochin the man spoke. How did … what did … what was …

“Valleur!” Kristyn shouted from somewhere. “Don’t go with them!”

His skin erupted into gooseflesh. Why not? If this was a Valleur speaking Valleur, then surely … An instant later he lost all sense of time and place. Darkness overtook his world.

 

“NO!” Kristyn screamed as Karydor vanished.

The two forms disappeared also, and so did the bridge. Fletcher discovered himself summarily dumped into foul fen treacle.

“What the fuck?” Naej hollered. He waded into the stinking water to retrieve Fletcher, hauling the man backwards with massive hands under frailer armpits. “What just happened?”

Back on the sliver of dry path, the Trinian spat dirty liquid from his mouth. “Probably get the runs,” he muttered. Spluttering some more, he straightened.

“Fletch?” Kristyn demanded.

The old man sighed and gave a wry shrug. “They were waiting for him.”

“Well, yes …”

“No, Kristyn, I mean they were waiting for Karydor.”

“Explain that!” Naej roared.

“Valleur,” Kristyn whispered, her tawny eyes widening. “They knew he was here.” She licked her lips when Naej dug his huge fingers into her shoulder and then stared up at the Sagorin. “The dark kind you mentioned earlier? Karydor lays claim to that bloodline.”

“And they were waiting for him to come to them,” Fletcher said.

The Sagorin stared at the emptiness ahead. “Because his name is a word of power, one able to unmake a terraform.” He glared at the Valleur staring up at him. “Why would a Valleur wish for failure here?”

She grimaced. “Some Valleur still fight the war. Humankind won and the wounds and scars are still fresh.”

“And Farochin, despite what the locals think, is all about humankind,” Fletcher added.

 

FAROCHIN

Review: Farochin (audio)

Short and to the point - I like it!

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Farochin: The Terraformed World - Audio book now live!

 Grief-stricken over losing his wife in childbirth, Karydor commands that his son be drowned. Carers choose to hide the new-born instead. The child, when his father realises his terrible mistake, vanishes without a trace.

 Ages later, suffering cycles of rebirth to walk in the same time as his son, Karydor discovers the identity of the man his son becomes and, in need of atonement, sets out to ease his path through life, hoping for a future when he will be able to look him in the eye without guilt.

 On Farochin, a world where the terraform is about to fail, Karydor, Kristyn, Echayn and Fletcher team up, hoping to save the world from the influences of FARA, the godhood responsible for the failure.

 A god, however, is not easily undermined.

A world is not effortlessly rescued.

 A father will step into that arena, though, because of the love he bears his son. This is Karydor Danae’s atonement.

Farochin Audible US

Farochin Audible UK

Elaina Davidson · Farochin: The Dromerias

Now in Review: Farochin audio book

 

Grief-stricken over losing his wife in childbirth, Karydor commands that his son be drowned. Carers choose to hide the new-born instead. The child, when his father realises his terrible mistake, vanishes without a trace.

Ages later, suffering cycles of rebirth to walk in the same time as his son, Karydor discovers the identity of the man his son becomes and, in need of atonement, sets out to ease his path through life, hoping for a future when he will be able to look him in the eye without guilt.

On Farochin, a world where the terraform is about to fail, Karydor, Kristyn, Echayn and Fletcher team up, hoping to save the world from the influences of FARA, the godhood responsible for the failure.

A god, however, is not easily undermined.

A world is not effortlessly rescued.

A father will step into that arena, though, because of the love he bears his son. This is Karydor Danae’s atonement.

Chapter 1: FAROCHIN: The Terraformed World

 

Grief-stricken over losing his wife in childbirth, Karydor commands that his son be drowned. Carers choose to hide the new-born instead. The child, when his father realises his terrible mistake, vanishes without a trace.

Ages later, suffering cycles of rebirth to walk in the same time as his son, Karydor discovers the identity of the man his son becomes and, in need of atonement, sets out to ease his path through life, hoping for a future when he will be able to look him in the eye without guilt.

On Farochin, a world where the terraform is about to fail, Karydor, Kristyn, Echayn and Fletcher team up, hoping to save the world from the influences of FARA, the godhood responsible for the failure.

A god, however, is not easily undermined.

A world is not effortlessly rescued.

A father will step into that arena, though, because of the love he bears his son. This is Karydor Danae’s atonement.

 

 

CHAPTER 1

A flag is History’s banner.

~ Adjunct Glestiel of Nolkoth ~

  

Farochin

Thela

City of Therin

SUMMER in Therin this year was milder than usual, according to the locals, and yet sufficiently present to make for uncomfortable sleeping patterns. When the sun rose, Karydor was relieved. The act of trying for rest could now be abandoned. Nightmares plagued him, too; respite was elusive for many reasons.

Dressing swiftly in lightweight linen after splashing tepid water on his face and completing the morning ritual of ablutions, he hastened down the bougainvillea enhanced outer stairs to the cobbled street in search of breakfast. The old man baker on the corner knew his hours; a savoury pastry would be waiting.

It was indeed waiting, steaming on a platter, although the old man was not in sight. He was rarely in sight, preferring not to talk to Karydor - or, more correctly, be seen talking to Karydor.

Karydor snatched it up and, chewing, wandered along the lonely path down to the ocean.

The tide was in, and the wind seemed favourable, which meant ships were able to enter harbour. Sitting on the low sea wall encrusted with dry seaweed, he finished his tartlet while watching masts aplenty vanish south to where the calm deep-water and a berth awaited. The Waymere Sea on Thela’s western coast was still, the sky clear, beckoning travellers to cross the ocean to lands beyond. Few did, according to the tales he overheard while picking olives; most would head north again from here and then east into Natticus Sea instead, the cradle of their civilisation on Farochin.

Inhaling the fresh air before the summer winds dried it to kiln degrees, Karydor simply sat. Today was a rest day; no pressing duties required his attention. Unfortunately, that also meant he could not hide from himself, but this day he intended to remain as serene as the gently lapping waves. Anger and aggression did little to aid the process of recovery, after all.

He knew his name and he knew one date, and that was all. Memory of before was lost when he went overboard a ship much like those now lining up to the south, he was told. No ship’s captain or quartermaster had yet recognised him; either no one wished to know him, or his ship had sailed onward.

He had no recall of going into the ocean, but his clothes revealed him as a seaman, according to the healer he eventually woke up to. They hauled him, waterlogged and near drowned, from the beach after a storm. That was two months ago, and no memory had resurfaced.

Other than a date.

The healer, upon hearing it, looked around in some fright and advised him not to repeat it. The man would not be drawn further, despite repeated prompting even after he discharged his patient. While he was no help regarding information, he did arrange a bedsit for Karydor in the recuperation enclave, as well as work on the olive farms to the east. The labour was intense, but Karydor preferred that to any activity involving the sea.

To the east, behind him, the first yellow rays breached the hilltops and sent tendrils amid the earthy-hued structures that comprised sleepy Therin. Soon the city would awaken, and a buzz would overtake the natural world’s sounds.

Standing, he chose to amble along the shoreline; it afforded the most privacy. He preferred avoiding people or, more correctly, the strange glances they sent his way. He did not look like them. He could not explain it, and no one seemed to have the courage to tell him more. Even the farm labourers avoided him.

Perhaps this morning a ship would put in with someone aboard who knew his face, or at least his kind.

 

Therin Harbour

RIGGING groaned and sails flapped. Barnacled hull bashed against swollen jetty, and sailors everywhere shouted and cursed, laughed and jeered at mates, either engaged in securing ships, offloading merchandise, or smoking together where the quays met dry land.

It was chaos.

Karydor counted sixteen vessels, with six more awaiting entry, and noted wagons begin the descent from the merchant district to the harbour road. Structured chaos would soon become bedlam.

Gritting his teeth to still his instinctive reaction to the noise and frenetic activity - frustration that frequently led to fury - he ambled to the far docks where the larger ships berthed. Those sailors travelled further, and many were from strange ports; perhaps one working them would deign to talk to him.

Moving through crowds of men, who swiftly stepped out of his way, given that he towered over them, he noted a fair few shaven heads showing fuzzy growth, lending their scalps a coppery sheen. No doubt the roll of a ship at sea put an end to grooming, fuzz being preferable to nicks and gashes. He grimaced, watching them watch him; not only was he larger than everyone in Therin, but his dark brown hair flowed to mid-back. He arrived with his tresses attached to his head from the ocean; he refused to shave to bare skull, although the healer had recommended he do so, to fit in, apparently. He lost his temper that day, hearing that.

The locals were placid. He was not. Wherever he hailed from, clearly equanimity was not among his people’s traits. He snorted as he approached a hulking vessel, acknowledging that maybe his temper was out of place even among his own.

The Dromerias had seen better days, but was a strong ship. Isolated at the far point, it summoned him. Perhaps it was the lack of activity that drew him, but more likely was the silence. Admittedly, the two states complemented each other, and yet this silence contained something extra. What that was, he could not fathom; intrigued, he closed in.

Karydor soon squinted up. The absence of movement on deck seemed unnatural. Either the vessel arrived on the night’s tide and had already unloaded, its crew now in port somewhere, or something else kept everyone below. He frowned, noticing the colours snap in the breeze. On a black background, a silver sickle moon cradled an emerald. He shuddered on truly seeing it. He knew that flag. He had no memory of it, but he knew it.

An odd sound pierced the even stranger silence.

The pull of a longbow.

How he knew that, Karydor could not gauge, for the locals generally openly carried daggers only, but again, the knowing was immediate. This was a longbow.

He instantly sidestepped.

An arrow thudded into the planking beside him.

“I suggest you leave,” someone said. A man of some maturity, by his tone.

No, he was not walking away. After two months of nothing, now this? Silence, longbow, the sense of summons? Here was something in the offing, something he did not foresee upon waking earlier, and he would be the fool if he walked away. He wanted answers and those answers might be before him now. That arrow was no more than a warning; the intent had not been to kill. He hoped so, anyway, and took the risk.

“Do you know me?” Karydor asked.

He spoke the language - Faroche - but had questioned whether it was his native tongue. He possessed an inflection no Therin inhabitant had yet revealed.

Instantly a white head of hair craned over the railing above. He had hair. Karydor’s heart stuttered into an uneven rhythm. Hair. Like to his. The man was old, his face lined and weathered, his skin tanned to that of aging wood. Hazel orbs latched onto his.

“I do not know you, but I can tell you are not from these parts.”

Karydor snorted again, aloud this time. “Pretty obvious, I’d say. Seems you are not a local either.”

A cackle erupted. “Did the hair give me away?”

“The bow, too,” Karydor grinned.

“Bring the arrow,” the old man commanded, and shoved at something. A rope ladder swung over the side. “Come aboard.”

Karydor worked the arrow free - a slim head, sharp. Whoever made it had to be a master. He then gripped the nearest rung and clambered up He was not about to deny this opportunity, whatever it might herald. Those answers? He needed them.

FAROCHIN

5 in 1: ANCIENT TERRA

 

ANCIENT TERRA OMNIBUS

Going live this week: Ancient Terra Omnibus Edition

 

At the end of the Lore Series, Torrullin Valla and Elianas Danae vanish into the mists with their homeworld Avaelyn, but the story doesn’t end there. What happens to Tristan Skyler Valla, for example, about to embark on a Timekeeper journey with Alusin Algheri? Where is Karydor Danae, the reincarnate father Torrullin has yet to meet?

In EURUE: The Forgotten World, a century later, we find out about Tristan and Alusin’s future as they pit their talents against a man half-dead, half-alive lying in a hidden casket somewhere on Eurue. Gabryl embarks on a campaign to rouse the realms to Eurue’s forgotten status, using the strange spinning orbs known as daetal to further his ambitions.

In FAROCHIN: The Terraformed World, we meet Karydor as he wakes up to memory loss on Farochin ages before Torrullin has ever stepped forward as the power he will become. Karydor and Echayn Valla, his brother-in-law, soon find themselves racing to save Farochin from Felix of the Murs, who seeks to undo the terraform in order to become a god. Karydor seeks to atone before he meets his son.

In LYKANDIR: The Measured World, two kings look up to see a world on approach. King Androdin in the south and King Drakan in the north understand that it will lead to chaos, utter change. As clansmen, watchmakers and wer-men scramble for solutions, the kings find themselves face to face with the men from that world, led by Torrullin Valla and Elianas Danae. It seems Lykandir and Avaelyn seek to occupy the same space in the realm Avaelyn vanished into.

In AVAELYN: The Enshrouded World, the timelines align once more. A thousand years have passed, and Avaelyn returns to her designated place. However, many wish to keep Torrullin and Elianas at bay, and thus is their world wrapped in a shroud that blinds all to their presence. Meanwhile, the children of Reaume suffer to keep it that way, and that is simply unacceptable.

In AVIOR: The Mythical World, the true enemy is revealed, an Ancient Valla who seems hellbent on creating a seat of tyrannical power. To the world Avior, which most regard as a myth, all forces are summoned. The entire Valla family strides into battle, for only the Vallas can stop this Valla. What they discover below the surface is heart-breaking.

From the realms of time to the reality of lost souls, through hope and cruelty, we reconnect with familiar characters, and meet a host of new ones. An old sword with an agenda reappears, while a new talisman is forged from desperation … and so much more. An epic adventure, indeed!

Farochin Audio Book now in production!

 

Ancient Terra in a glance

 

GIF: Ancient Terra

 

Ancient Terra's covers updated

After finishing the Ancient Terra series, I went back and reworked all five books. Fresh edits, streamlined formatting and cover tweaks. Essentially the same, but better, and only Lykandir needed a completely reworked cover (the others are simply updated).

Ancient Terra 1 - 5 excerpts

 

EURUE

FAROCHIN

LYKANDIR

AVAELYN

AVIOR

THE REALLY BIG NEWS IS ...

… that the final Ancient Terra books are live! YES!!

You all know I have been writing the final instalment for this series (one of the reasons I was somewhat scarce here), but something strange happened. See, Avaelyn was meant to be book 4, following on from Eurue, Farochin and Lykandir … but it grew and grew and grew, until it went over 350k words. Given the style of the series, that would have meant three books of around 130k-ish and one massive final volume, and this didn't suit, in my opinion. So, TWO books ends up finishing the series! Avaelyn and Avior! While they are part of the same story, each focuses on one part of the whole, and that meant the massive volume could be split. This means the style of the series remains as I envisioned it (with 5 books now rather than 4!). Eurue, Farochin and Lykandir are standalone, but the final two are meant to be read sequentially.

So, without further ado, here's how the completed series appears (the omnibus will be available soon):

P.S.: I did tell you Avaelyn's cover might change, and it did :)

(Posting links and blurbs next)