Contents Untitled Document Title Page Copyright Dedication Blank Page PROLOGUE: History of Haerland Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Chapter Fifty-Two Chapter Fifty-Three Chapter Fifty-Four Chapter Fifty-Five Chapter Fifty-Six Chapter Fifty-Seven Chapter Fifty-Eight Chapter Fifty-Nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-One Chapter Sixty-Two Chapter Sixty-Three Chapter Sixty-Four Chapter Sixty-Five Chapter Sixty-Six Chapter Sixty-Seven Chapter Sixty-Eight Chapter Sixty-Nine Chapter Seventy Chapter Seventy-One Chapter Seventy-Two Chapter Seventy-Three Chapter Seventy-Four Chapter Seventy-Five Chapter Seventy-Six Chapter Seventy-Seven Chapter Seventy-Eight Chapter Seventy-Nine Appendix Aydra Ravenspeak's Mark Mark of the Venari King Noctuans Pronunciations Acknowledgements Dead Moons Rising First in The Honest Scrolls series Jack Whitney Copyright © 2021 Jack Whitney All rights reserved. ISBN: 9798588531726 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are the product and depiction of the author's wild imagination, and are completely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is purely coincidental. For my sister. For supporting and encouraging me always. And for giving me the courage to burn the kingdom myself. Thank you for the torch. PROLOGUE: HISTORY OF HAERLAND THE CHRONICLES SAY there was once a time, so very long ago, when the creatures of Haerland, both big and small, could roam free about the undisturbed and timeless lands without fear or restraint. A time when the curses of the current Age did not exist. A time when the term 'war' had no meaning. This was the First Age. It was during this age that the earthen mother herself, for which the land had been named, lived in complete harmony with her creatures. After centuries of solitude, however, Haerland found herself growing lonely. She turned to the Architects of the sky and earth in the hopes they would answer with a solution. Three Architects answered her call. The first was the Ghost of the Sea. "In the southern waters," said the Sea, "you will find my gift. Take caution, dear Haerland. Treat this gift as you do your creatures. Only then will it serve you with respect and not disdain." For a fortnight, Haerland searched up and down the southwestern coast. On the fifteenth sunrise, the Sea's gift showed itself. A man was washed up on the beach, sand covering his olive skin. Haerland approached him and pulled him off the beach and out of the way of the crashing surf. He coughed the seawater from his lungs and looked up at her. "Haerland?" he asked. She nodded. "I am." Once on his feet, he crossed his right arm over his chest and let his fist to rest on his breast. "I am Lovi Piathos. The Sea sends me," he said. "This reef behind me is my home. If you will have me, it would be my honor to serve out my days here in your beautiful land." Haerland reached out and placed her hand over his exposed breast, and replied, "Welcome home, Lovi Piathos." When she removed her hand, she revealed a symbol engraved into his chest; five close-knit lines, the second and fourth longer than the others. It is the same symbol Lovi's children bear today. The second Architect to answer her call appeared to her weeks later, eager to give Haerland his gift. This Architect was the Ghost of Fire. "Haerland," he addressed her, "Tonight, I will awaken this mountain. You will know him as Mons Magnus. Treat him with respect, for he is a loyal being and has a hard-working and pleasing spirit. He is my favorite of the range, and now I give him to you." The ground shook beneath her that night from dusk until dawn. With the rising of the sun, Haerland awoke from her slumber and strode to the foothill where the Ghost of Fire had come to her. There, she found a crack cut into the mountain that had not been there before. Inside this cave, she found a man. The tall, bared man rose from his place on the ground and stepped directly in front of her. His body was streaked with soot and ash; his chest plagued with red burns. "Haerland?" he asked. "Yes?" He took her hands in his and knelt down before her. "My name Mons Magnus," said the ashen faced and darkly bearded man, "and I am yours, my dear Haerland." She smiled as he kissed the backs of her hands, and then said, "Rise, Mons Magnus. And welcome to my home." The last Architect to find her was the Ghost of the Sun. She found Haerland on the first sunset of the new year at the highest cliff on the western coast. "My dear Haerland," began the Sun, "I apologize for the time it has taken me to bring my gifts. Your patience is the greatest of your traits. As your reward, I come to you bearing not one, but three gifts. Three seeds. It is my hope they will find their home in your land and upon their maturing, I am sure you will never feel loneliness again. "The first is a creation of mine and mine alone. Plant it here, on this hill, so that I may look over its growth directly." The Sun placed a small cloth in Haerland's hands. Within it lay a single small seed, pearly-white in color. "The second was created with the help of both the stars and my beloved eagle, the Aenean Orel. Plant this seed in the north of the Preymoor." Again, the Sun gave Haerland a small cloth with a seed wrapped in it. This one was larger than the previous and a mossy blue in color, speckled with flecks of white and gold on the hull. "My
