"It was the moths that first revealed the change. Grey-tipped whispers in the moonlit night. Two or three here, a single one there. White ones slipping through the darkness, silent and seemingly harmless, but present. Growing in numbers until they erupted the quiet like flutters of falling ash. There was a music in their silence. The kind of music that attached itself to hums and vibrations in the waters of the earth.
The hums, the vibrations, all but imperceptible. With the dawn the moths vanished, leaving a broken land in their wake. The Elian River leaked out into fissures of streams and brooks that first appeared as watery cracks throughout the Faeran Valley. So small at first, we didn't
recognize the difference.
But as the months and years passed, the Elian slipped further and deeper into the growing fractures of earth the moths had left. Trails of watery branches and veins broke the ground until it couldn't sustain life any longer.
This is what we have against the Bremistans. The land is delicate now, brittle like old bones. And I fear it is aging beyond our ability to heal it...."
Anna's heart-pounding first night in the Faeran Valley reveals things aren't what they seem. It is a place of ancient legend born out of blood and bitterness. A broken legend that mires everything in secrets and mysticism.
If the legend is real, it lies waiting for Anna, and has brought her here to the Faeran Valley, haunting her, pursuing her with its curses, with its ribbons of shadows and hope.
An epic fairytale of Love, Sacrifice, Revenge and the power to endure.
We are not as strong as we think we are.
Sometimes we are stronger.