Read Online Roads of the Righteous and the Rotten (Order of Fire Book 1) by Kameron A. Williams - Free Book Online
Authors: Kameron A. Williams
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power. And so it was, now, that everything they did was to forsake their ancient city.
Stroan opened his eyes. The sunlight peered into his dark cleft in the rock and brightened the aerie. He had left his flap folded back a bit to make sure he didn’t oversleep, and he awoke squinting as the bright rays crept under the folds of the hide door and enveloped his face. It was early when he made it back to the Clouds, too early to visit Anza, so he had scaled to his aerie in the high city and lain down for a few hours. But he wouldn’t delay any longer. His reports to Anza were crucial in assuring the deceits they had subtly sculpted would bring them closer to their promised paradise—a royal life in a coveted and occupied land.
She had planted this idea in their minds when she first came to rule nearly twenty years ago, and it had sprouted in their hearts like a germinating seed. They had embraced her with open hearts and high hopes, clinging to the possibility there was something more in store for them all. Something better.
“A descent from the clouds,” she called it, as if giving it a name would somehow make it more important. And somehow it did. Every move they now made was to abandon the City in the Clouds and reclaim Snowstone, the land that had been theirs in old times according to Condor legend—a legend that Anza ever reminded them of. To rally their morale, and inspire their cunning, she told the tale of their people’s origin, how they occupied the land now known as Snowstone. For years they’d lived in great prosperity, then, they’d lost a war with the mainreachers and were forced to retreat to the hills, claiming them as their new home. She was crafty, but far too elegant to be duplicitous among her own people; to the contrary, she always said exactly what she meant. All of the Condor loved her. She had given them ambition, something to strive for. She had given them her dream and they had made it their own.
But Stroan had paid a price for her vision, for he didn’t enjoy the freedom that other Condor may have enjoyed under a different ruler—or the freedom that other Condor enjoyed that weren’t of such high standing in the clan. She had sent him to diverse lands: sending messages, having people killed, delivering gold, and whatever else she needed done to fulfill her plan. She held his life in the palm of her hand, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she constantly, albeit, unknowingly, reminded him that she was the reason him and Yuna could not yet be together.
Of all the Condor, Anza had chosen him to report to her of Yuna’s findings. Today, like so many other days she would ask him, “What news have you from Yuna? What has she found out?” And every time he answered her he acted as if it were nothing at all, as if it didn’t bother him one bit that his love was in Tiomot’s bedchamber, giving her body to that animal so they could get the information they needed. It made him furious, yet every time he delivered the news he stood there looking unconcerned—calm and strong in front of the matriarch.
Stroan sighed as he lifted his head from his bedding of thatch and sat up. Taking a long, deep breath he swept his blanket to the side and crawled out of the aerie. He stood up and stretched out a bit. Looking down upon the world, he let the frigid wind do its work in awakening him fully. He never grew tired of gazing down from their village in the sky. Snowstone was the most interesting to look at for there were so many structures, and while the other cities’ buildings seemed like nothing more than faint specks in the distance, Snowstone was vivid and clear, rich and inspiring. Everything looked so big, because it was so close, and the castle seemed like a great spire of white stone rising out of the ground. Stroan saw it as a majestic mountain peak, seeming so close to them high in the sky that he almost wanted to jump to it. Sirith looked like a few small pebbles scattered outside the forest,
Stroan opened his eyes. The sunlight peered into his dark cleft in the rock and brightened the aerie. He had left his flap folded back a bit to make sure he didn’t oversleep, and he awoke squinting as the bright rays crept under the folds of the hide door and enveloped his face. It was early when he made it back to the Clouds, too early to visit Anza, so he had scaled to his aerie in the high city and lain down for a few hours. But he wouldn’t delay any longer. His reports to Anza were crucial in assuring the deceits they had subtly sculpted would bring them closer to their promised paradise—a royal life in a coveted and occupied land.
She had planted this idea in their minds when she first came to rule nearly twenty years ago, and it had sprouted in their hearts like a germinating seed. They had embraced her with open hearts and high hopes, clinging to the possibility there was something more in store for them all. Something better.
“A descent from the clouds,” she called it, as if giving it a name would somehow make it more important. And somehow it did. Every move they now made was to abandon the City in the Clouds and reclaim Snowstone, the land that had been theirs in old times according to Condor legend—a legend that Anza ever reminded them of. To rally their morale, and inspire their cunning, she told the tale of their people’s origin, how they occupied the land now known as Snowstone. For years they’d lived in great prosperity, then, they’d lost a war with the mainreachers and were forced to retreat to the hills, claiming them as their new home. She was crafty, but far too elegant to be duplicitous among her own people; to the contrary, she always said exactly what she meant. All of the Condor loved her. She had given them ambition, something to strive for. She had given them her dream and they had made it their own.
But Stroan had paid a price for her vision, for he didn’t enjoy the freedom that other Condor may have enjoyed under a different ruler—or the freedom that other Condor enjoyed that weren’t of such high standing in the clan. She had sent him to diverse lands: sending messages, having people killed, delivering gold, and whatever else she needed done to fulfill her plan. She held his life in the palm of her hand, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she constantly, albeit, unknowingly, reminded him that she was the reason him and Yuna could not yet be together.
Of all the Condor, Anza had chosen him to report to her of Yuna’s findings. Today, like so many other days she would ask him, “What news have you from Yuna? What has she found out?” And every time he answered her he acted as if it were nothing at all, as if it didn’t bother him one bit that his love was in Tiomot’s bedchamber, giving her body to that animal so they could get the information they needed. It made him furious, yet every time he delivered the news he stood there looking unconcerned—calm and strong in front of the matriarch.
Stroan sighed as he lifted his head from his bedding of thatch and sat up. Taking a long, deep breath he swept his blanket to the side and crawled out of the aerie. He stood up and stretched out a bit. Looking down upon the world, he let the frigid wind do its work in awakening him fully. He never grew tired of gazing down from their village in the sky. Snowstone was the most interesting to look at for there were so many structures, and while the other cities’ buildings seemed like nothing more than faint specks in the distance, Snowstone was vivid and clear, rich and inspiring. Everything looked so big, because it was so close, and the castle seemed like a great spire of white stone rising out of the ground. Stroan saw it as a majestic mountain peak, seeming so close to them high in the sky that he almost wanted to jump to it. Sirith looked like a few small pebbles scattered outside the forest,
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