“‘Abadin was Ingris’s greatest masterpiece, her very own mortal, a being of her love, if not her flesh directly. She adored him, gracing him with every gift the world had to offer. She gave him an aspect forged from her very essence, a most unique gift, even among her kind. But Carnis hated this. Aerinth had given him an aspect of his own, destruction, carnage–power–the very strength of the storms which otherwise plagued the world. Yet, he still felt empty. Even as great as his power was, it couldn’t compare to Alovin’s courage. It couldn’t compare to Eyin’s desire. It couldn’t compare to Magnius’s versatility. It couldn’t compare to Nasiphiles' design. And, most certainly, it couldn’t compare to Abadin’s compassion. He wanted more, but he couldn’t have more. So, if he couldn’t have more, then they would have to have less. In the dead of night, summoning the great gales of a hurricane, Carnis killed Abadin, guaranteeing his power forever lost. See, Abadin had no children, a wife, but no children, which meant with him gone, there was no one left to carry the torch of his aspect, and Carnis knew this. Ingris, upon hearing what happened to her dearly beloved, began to weep. So mighty were her tears, so powerful was her grief, that it cleaved Atlas’s domain in half, forming what we now call the great Liafer River, which starts from the very spot she began crying in. To this day, the Liafer still flows from the south to the north, connecting the two halves of her kingdom together. Does that make a little more sense?’”

Stolen novel; please report.

-an excerpt from Ren Incantum