"Sychoral’s voice was never soft.
Even her lightest whisper roared through his mind like thunder through deep canyons. Like the earth shaking the mountains to rubble. Like the final shuddering breath that leads across the threshold of death.
Master.
Pain flared in his mind. Exquisite pain. She appeared in his dream then, shimmering in her original form before black-feathered wings spread behind her and her body coalesced into the image of a raven. Somehow beautiful. And terrifying. Her black eyes glanced around the room, admiring the bodies on the floor, the blood covering the walls…the sword in his hands.
You always bring me here.
She laughed, cocking her head so that one beady eye settled on him. Her appearance was rare, usually preferring to send one of her minions to communicate with him. If she came herself, it was always for something significant.
We have been summoned.
The room shifted, the walls expanded outwards, the bodies disappeared, and the floor turned to polished marble. A man appeared in front of him, sitting on a throne.
This is your mark.
Again, pain flared through his head, the room vanished, and Sychoral exploded, leaving him amidst a rain of black feathers. Her laugh still echoing in his mind."
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J. A. Devenport was forged from the wilds of Alaska, a true cross between polar bear and man. After obtaining an education from BYU, Devenport began the long journey of making a career from writing. He now resides in Utah where he writes, works out, and chills with his wife, Heidi, and four cats Buddy, Lulu, Chad, and Meow Meow.