Reborn in the Kingdom of Kings
Chapter 13 · free to read
Ilvan did not want the weapon destroyed and he did not want it in Arjun's hand. He wanted it upstairs, and Arjun dependent on the ladder he came down.
A soul-blade takes sight. He had four hundred years of dark in which to practise being without it, and he spent the last of what he had left on a stranger's sword.
Prataap. Willow-pale, straight, broad in the face, with a hilt bound in cord under two hands. It hummed when the water let it go.
Twenty-two years he had held one shape of wood, and a year of this world telling him it was the wrong life. It was never the wrong life. It was only ever the wrong world.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.