Shardless (Tempris #1)

As Breena sat on the garden wall, sipping her tea and watching the colors of the new day ignite on the horizon, she had no way of knowing that this would be the day that she died.

It was a day just like any other day, following the same rhythms and patterns. Breakfast, then lunch; she cleaned the kitchen and swept the floors. And since she was as of yet completely unaware of her impending demise, when the sun began to set, marking the end of another ordinary day filled with ordinary tasks, she was content with its mediocrity and the safety that being average provided.

The sky had already turned dark when Breena finally set down her quill. She stood carefully, her bones cracking in protest. The aether was noticeably thinner on the island, and most days, it left her feeling tired.

Shaking out her braid, she took a moment to survey the meager cottage. The scuffed wood floors and whitewashed walls were a far cry from the luxury of her youth, but she had managed to make the space comfortable. The rugs may have been threadbare, but they warded off the chill of the morning, and the quilts on the beds, though secondhand, were soft from age.