Collin trudged up the winding slope, his men trailing behind. The sun once again shone brightly on AnteraSvell, marking the end of the phase of the second moon. He had only ever traveled through AnteraSvell once before, during the great Tuskin war, but he had never set foot on the inside of Ingri, the capital of Ingrua. Though Egrid had told him great tales of his city while they were in Belux, Collin had since wondered if those same tales had been romanticized and exaggerated by a homesick man.
Collin drew his sword, a deadly curved piece from the East colonies, as he charged his enemies. Several of his men were up instantly at the sound of his warning shout, others less so. The hooded figures continued to flicker, popping up on one side of the room only to disappear and reappear somewhere else. Yet they still didn’t attack. He stood now, in the chamber with Keeter by his side. “Can you see them, Keeter?” Continue reading “The Ghost Walkers”