A BRIDGE BETWEEN WORLDS
Eleven thousand six hundred years ago, Elu, the Supreme Oracle of Anumati, divined a future he did not dare write down.
The Weight of Sight
The vision had come three nights ago, and Elu had not slept since.
He stood at the window of his reception chamber, gazing out at the capital city spread below.
Bioluminescent flora carpeted the cavern ceiling far above, casting a serene glow over the subterranean metropolis in a lovely imitation of stars.
Buildings carved from bedrock glowed with the soft light of embedded crystals, bridges arched over chasms, and boulevards connected districts that bustled with activity during the day.
Anumati was beautiful, orderly, but built on lies.
Elu pressed his palm against the cool stone of the window frame, the words of the prophecy burning in his mind, as vivid now as when they had first seared themselves into his consciousness.
Twin stars born of Eternal blood shall rise far beyond the throne's guard. One of light, one of shadow, two faces of will divine, to right the wrong and eternity realign.
He was afraid to even write it down.
El had spies everywhere, and that included the temple of the Supreme Oracle. The prophecy was not safe anywhere other than Elu's head, and perhaps not even there. The king employed mind readers, despite outlawing the ability and killing off most of those who possessed the talent.
All except those in his employ.
Elu guarded his mind as best he could, but no one's mind was impenetrable, not even that of the Supreme Oracle of Anumati with his mismatched eyes.
He brushed his fingers over the skin beneath his right eye, the blue one that people murmured looked into the future, and the crimson one that they believed looked into the past. Neither was true, it was just a mistake, probably incorporated into his otherwise perfectly designed genetic makeup by someone who had wished to mock his father, the previous king of Anumati.
Thankfully, his father had loved his mother enough to listen to the pleas of a concubine of minor standing and allow the imperfect infant to live.
Elu had heard the story countless times from his father, who had liked to boast that his benevolence had been rewarded by the Fates. By sparing the son who had been born defective, he had gained an incomparable seer, a great asset to Anumati and the throne.
His father had never stopped to consider how it made Elu feel that his parent had wished to end his life because of a physical imperfection.
But that was the way of Anumati, and even though El had vowed to eliminate that practice of killing imperfect offspring when he became king, he had not.
When his brother had taken over from their father, everything had become worse, not better.
A knock on his chamber door pulled him out of the spiral of thoughts.
"Enter," he called, composing his features before turning from the window.
His scribe stepped through the door and bowed. "Supreme Oracle, the Eternal King's envoy has arrived for the scheduled audience."
"Yes, I am aware." Elu grimaced.
Tyran's glow dimmed with discomfort. "Should I tell the envoy that you are deep in meditation?"
"No." Elu straightened his robes. "Lies require more lies to sustain them. I have seen where that path leads. I will receive him in the outer chamber."
When the scribe left, Elu took a deep breath and then allowed his luminescence to rise to an appropriate level for the meeting—bright enough to command respect, restrained enough to suggest humility.
There was something distasteful about this blatant show of status.
Only nobility had the means to genetically modify their offspring's level of luminance.
It ensured no one could ever step above their station, no matter how capable they were, or how much wealth they managed to accumulate.
The glow of one's skin or lack thereof determined their entire existence, starting with the academic institutions they could attend and continuing to who they could mate with and what positions they could attain.
That was how it had been from time immemorial, so most never gave it much thought, but Elu had a lot of time to think, and the injustice of it was glaring. Not everything was determined by genes, and allowances needed to be made for the spirit.
He walked through the corridor toward the outer chamber, passing beneath carvings that depicted the spiraling scripts of ancient prophecies foretold by his predecessors.
Thousands of them had been collected since the temple's founding, etched into columns of luminescent alludium, their words unchanged across the ages even as their interpretations shifted with each passing epoch.
How many of those prophecies had been sanitized before recording? How many truths had been softened, obscured, or buried to protect the powerful from uncomfortable revelations?
Probably too many, even though obscuring and hiding them was pointless. Destiny did not care whether it was foretold and recorded, or neither. It kept marching forward regardless of those futile attempts at redirection.
The Envoy
The outer chamber dwarfed everyone who entered it, but Elu had grown accustomed to the effect over the centuries—the vaulted ceiling soaring toward the cavern roof, the colossal alludium columns glowing softly, the mosaic floor of azure and gold tiles arranged in patterns that mirrored constellations.
It was designed to make petitioners feel small, to remind them they stood in a place where the veil between past, present, and future grew thin.
Today, Elu found the grandeur oppressive rather than impressive.
The envoy waited at the chamber's center, his posture deceptively supplicant. Sorgus was anything but. The guy was a cold-eyed official who had risen through the ranks by being useful and utterly without scruple.
His skin was the color of polished obsidian, a shade that spoke of his parents' considerable wealth. It was one of the most expensive genetic modifications and was usually reserved for females of royal blood. It was an uncommon choice for a male child, but his level of luminosity was not.
Elu had seen this display countless times from countless officials.
They came into his temple, burning bright, trying to assert dominance and remind him that they spoke with the Eternal King's authority.
Little did they know that the alludium columns absorbed and redistributed such displays, smoothing them out and making them look desperate rather than impressive.
The temple's ancient architects had known how to enforce humility in those who had none.
"Supreme Oracle." Sorgus offered a bow that was barely adequate. "The Eternal King sends his regards and extends his gratitude for your exceptional service to Anumati."
"Noted." Elu gestured toward a stone bench. "Please, sit."
Sorgus remained standing. "The king requests a compilation of all prophecies recorded in the past cycle. He is particularly interested in any visions pertaining to the stability of the realm."
Elu kept his expression neutral. Stability of the realm. Had one of the lesser oracles caught a fragment of the same vision that had barreled into his mind three nights ago, and reported it?
"The stability of the realm is assured." Elu kept his voice mild. "The colonies flourish, and the citizens are content."
"The colonies survive, and the citizens are managed," Sorgus corrected, then seemed to catch himself. "Forgive me. I meant to say protected. The Eternal King protects his people from disturbances, physical and emotional. Ensuring the people's satisfaction and tranquility is his prime objective."
Translation: keep them in the dark and manage them like a flock of mindless sheep. Everything in Anumati was built on lies, and corruption was rampant.
That was the Eternal King's philosophy that Elu had spent centuries choking on, stated plainly by a functionary who probably believed in it wholeheartedly.
"The truth disturbs only those who have reason to fear it," Elu said.
Sorgus's eyes narrowed, and his luminescence flared brighter. "The king has also noted your recent public remarks. He wishes me to remind you that the Supreme Oracle serves the throne, not the other way around."
"I serve the people of Anumati." Elu kept his own luminosity unchanged. "I serve the truth that flows through me. If my brother finds that objectionable, perhaps he should nominate someone else as Supreme Oracle."
The envoy's dark face hardened. "It is not my place to say this, but royal blood does not make one untouchable."
Elu should have stopped right there, but he could not help himself. "Nor does a crown make one infallible."
For a moment, surprise and even grudging respect flickered in Sorgus's expression, but then his features smoothed back into professional neutrality. "I will convey your words to the king. When may we expect the prophecies, Supreme Oracle?"
"When they are ready to be shared. I still need to add my interpretations to many of them. They are meaningless without them."
"Of course." Sorgus bowed. "Please send your scribe with the scrolls as soon as they are ready."
The temple did not employ any electronic or digital devices, and everything was recorded by hand. Blessedly, it gave Elu time to think and modify his interpretations in a way that would please his brother.
Sorgus left without further pleasantries, his blazing light finally dimming as he passed through the great doors. Elu watched him go, knowing every word of their exchange would be reported to El.
Elu had just escalated a conflict that had been building for centuries.
The part of him that was cautious and remembered what his brother was capable of whispered that he should have been more diplomatic.
He should have smiled and nodded and promised cooperation while quietly continuing his work.
The problem was that the rebellious part of him could no longer stomach the silence.
BONDS OF WINGS AND FURY
The Two-Faced God
In a world where dragons dominate the skies, and colossal worms tunnel through mountains, three nations teeter on the brink of war.
Like every Elucian, Kailin must brave the perilous pilgrimage to Mount Hope's summit, where an ancient shaman will decide her fate. A select few are destined to bond with dragons, and for most, it’s the ultimate prize.
Not so for Kailin, who is hiding a paralyzing fear of heights and would rather sketch the magnificent beasts than ride them.
Alar appears to be a privileged Elurian seeking the glory and immortality of dragon riders. Yet beneath his aristocratic facade lies a secret agenda that could disrupt the delicate alliance between the reclusive Elucia and the cosmopolitan Elurian Federation.
When Kailin and Alar cross paths, sparks fly, and as they ascend the perilous mountain, hunted by shadowy assassins and tested by ancient rites, their unlikely bond deepens.
Defying a thousand years of tradition, an impossible selection puts the star-crossed lovers at the center of an ancient prophecy. But in a world where dragons have their own agendas and even the gods aren't what they seem, the greatest threat may yet come from within.
This new series takes place in the larger universe of the gods, and while it stands alone, the two series will converge.
Bonds of Wings and Fury: the Two-Faced God
BONDS OF WINGS AND FURY
Hero of Elucia
Kailin's gift made her a hero, but now it's making her a target.
To reach the bonding ceremony, she must survive not only assassins but also the immense physical and mental strain of her prophetic dreams. Her nightmares whisper of sinister forces, betrayals yet to come, and mortal danger to those she loves.
Alar left his father's royal court to forge his own destiny as a dragon rider, but what he found in Elucia is more than he could have ever imagined—love, purpose, and a life of his own design.
Yet crowns cast long shadows, and when a letter arrives from his mother, Alar is faced with an impossible choice.
The prophecy speaks of seven who will save Aurorys. Six have been found, but one remains a mystery—and time is running out.