The Chalice Quartet


Al had taken a while to fall asleep. Every strange sound made him startle and, having never spent much time outdoors, every sound was strange. Anladet had turned towards him and snuggled up against his back, curling an arm around his ribs at one point. He had been in the throws of his letdown, paranoid


Anla’s friend Riyan had once broken down people into three types. “The privileged are the people who like to pretend there’s nothing wrong with the world. Maybe they don’t know.  Maybe they’re like horses, with blinders on so they don’t spook away from things.  Privileged people don’t know what a back alley looks like, don’t


Anladet had barely sat down on the stone wall across from the tavern when Al opened the white door and stepped out, stretching. His thick hair was disheveled, but arranged in a way that made her think he actually might have tried taming it that morning. His clothing was changed, though still a tunic and


Alpine knew a strange situation when he saw one. He was a peculiarity, too; a wizard on the road far from a city, looking for adventure.  He didn’t stand out, though, since no one really knew he was a wizard.  The woman in the corner, however, stood out like frozen laundry on a windy day.


Anladet wiped the tears from her face before she opened her eyes. She could see the sky through the tiny window in the kitchen, gray with a new morning. The oven fire had died down to embers, so she stacked wood in it knowing Onlard’s wife would be down soon to start baking the bread