![]() ![]() ![]() The sky had been clear this day, with not so much as a cloud in warning. The breeze picked up and Conrad stopped altogether, closing his eyes and spreading his arms wide so that the gusts might better cool his sweat-damp body. Omi had advised him to rest where he was welcomed. Perhaps he should not have declined the offer of food and drink at the Woodcutter house. He hoped Omi had not died at the hands of the sultan.Ĭonrad’s stomach growled, distracting him from the wistful sadness that always threatened to overcome him when he thought about Omi, but he knew she would be proud of him, proud of his accomplishments, proud that he had kept his promise to leave the slums and never return. Omi had told him his journey would end when he found the place where his heart waited for him. Conrad’s battered feet had trod the length of this continent from the fiery south to the frozen north, but his soul had yet to find its destination. ![]() It had been a long, dry road from Rose Abbey, part of an even longer road that had begun in the slums of Sandaar. ![]() Conrad slowed his pace, not because he lacked energy, but because the hard calluses on his feet had cracked and started to bleed. ![]()
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