This is a sneak peek for a upcoming novel, Moonshadows. (Don't worry - I am still working on Interludes in Myth!)
All pre-publication material is subject to edits/change. Copyright 2015 M.M. Kin
Prince Kuoji stared at the
vista that spread out before him, the white towers of the Palace of
the Sun jutting up into the sky like an ivory dagger. Bleached from
several centuries' worth of sunlit days, the pale stone was visible
from miles around. To the people of the kingdom of Corona, the Palace
was a testament of beauty and strength, and a symbol of the gods'
blessings upon the land.
A faint smirk appeared on his
lips as he recalled his time spent within the Palace. Back then he'd
been nothing more than a servant, the bastard son of a woman who'd
been taken as a concubine by an Atyamai man before she'd managed to
escape him while she was pregnant. He'd endured the scorn and
prejudice of adults and children alike due to his obvious mixed
heritage.
It'd been nearly a decade
since he'd last seen this place. However, he was no longer someone to
be looked down at. When he set foot into the Palace, it would not be
as a lowly half-breed servant. It would be as Prince of the Atyamai,
son of the Emperor Imonje. He would relish the expression on King
Helin's face when the old man saw who it was that had come to take
his crown away from him.
He turned his head, his dark
green eyes fixing upon the woman next to him. With hair as dark as
his own, and skin like alabaster, the similarity between the two
could not be missed despite the fact that he was only half
Atyamainese. It'd been remarked upon more than once in the Imperial
Court how the two could have such similar facial expressions. She had
a slight smile on her lips that mirrored his own.
“How does it feel?
Experiencing any nostalgia?” the woman asked, her eyes as dark as
her hair as she regarded him. Like him, she was clad in armor of
exquisite quality, lightweight compared to the traditional armor
generally worn in Corona, yet no less efficient in its design,
especially considering its wearer.
“Perhaps a bit, Aunt.
However, I can assure you, that is no impediment to our goal.”
“I did not think it would
be. However, I know there is a prize you seek. I will not impede you
from it, but I must remind you that a long time has passed.” Her
voice was gentle, yet carried an undertone of steel.
He took a deep breath. Azami
was right, and he was already aware of the possibilities. Things
could, and usually did, change with the passing of years, and people
certainly were no exception to the rule. He'd been aware of this
truth for years, especially as his own person was evidence of just
how much weight this maxim held. In his case, the changes had been
positive. He could only hope that for the person he longed to see,
the years had not eroded away the positive things he remembered.
“We will see what happens.
My commitment to our goal will remain the same regardless of what
happens.”
Azami's smile became warmer.
“I only want to see you happy.”
His response to that was a
brief nod before he turned around to face the army that was massed
before him and his aunt. Banners of white fluttered in the breeze,
the black shape on them easily discernible as a hand with its palm
facing the viewer, its fingers and thumb straight as if to signal
'stop'. The sigil was recognized across the empire of Atyamai, and
even in Corona, where this dark hand stood for their greatest enemy.
In reality, it was the crest of the rulers of Atyamai, the dark hand
a literal and figurative symbol of their power.
One of the generals approached
the pair, bowing his head before looking up at them.
“The men are in readiness,
and those in the Palace are prepared for their part.”
“Excellent,” Azami
replied. “Let us tarry no longer, then.” She lightly dug her
heels into the side of her russet-colored horse, and Kuoji did the
same, setting his own ebony steed in a brisk trot.
Seemingly as one, the army
moved, the blacks and grays of the massed soldiers making it seem as
if a shadow was moving across the verdant land.
