Read Online Roads of the Righteous and the Rotten (Order of Fire Book 1) by Kameron A. Williams - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kameron A. Williams
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and farther down, the structures of Vlysa were tiny black grains of sand scattered over a few small fields.
Stroan turned from the scenery and made towards the edge of the bluff. Coming to the cliff’s lip that hung over the labyrinthine levels of crags and ridges below, Stroan leisurely hopped off and caught the ledge with his right hand as he fell. Using his falling momentum, and gently—almost effortlessly—rocking his body inward, he swung himself onto the bank of the precipice where his hide boots slid against the stone.
He coasted down the precipice, squatting low to keep his balance on the steep and slippery bank. He was fast approaching a crag protruding from the rocks, and as the incline pushed him swiftly towards it, Stroan straightened out his legs and hopped up. Bending his knees in sync with his landing, he dropped softly atop the peak, skipped a few times to keep his momentum, and hopped onto the hill below.
His body floated well among the cliffs, and he took pride in it. Being able to “fly the cliffs” was a skill that brought much status in the Clan of the Condor. It was the reason women ruled and were favored, being naturally lighter and more agile than men, and why any large or overweight person was the object of continual scorn and condemnation. Flying the cliffs like the ancients was something they were all trained to do since they could walk, a skill that was necessary for both mobility and status in the City in the Clouds.
He ran left on the hill and jumped to a tall rocky spire, hugging it tightly. He wouldn’t waste time following the hill all the way down to the low city then climbing back up the cliffs to reach the Long Column. This was his shortcut. He stayed higher in the cliffs, bouncing from bluff to pillar to ledge, then dropping and sliding down to his destination instead of having to climb up.
Still hugging the pillar, Stroan scooted around it to the other side. He lifted his feet higher on the rock and unwrapped his arms from around the stone. He pushed off hard with his legs and turned to catch the cliff that poked out behind him. His body soared as he reached forward with both hands, catching the ledge first with his right hand, his fingers curling into a pocket of stone. His left hand slipped upon first impact with the bluff, but he let it slide down a few inches until it met with a protrusion, and he quickly wrapped it around the stone knob.
He scaled the bluff and made his way down the sharply steep, almost vertical bank that would lead him to the Long Column. With one leg straight and stretched out, the other bent and close to his body, his left hand periodically tapping the rock wall for balance, he coasted down the slope and prepared himself for the big jump ahead.
Stroan pushed off hard and shot through the air.
Pebbles jumped from under his feet as he lifted off the slope, clearing the gap between the hill running down into the gorge below and the column that lay flat like a great stone bridge, resting on giant boulders and leading straight to the foundation of the Great Aerie.
He landed on the column and followed it to Anza’s perch, a tall, high hill with steep sides and a plateau top. It was unlike the other aeries, being built from brick and mortar like a castle in one large circle upon the entire top of the hill. There were four doors allowing entrance from the north, east, south, and west. The walls of the structure were so close to where the slope of the hill began that it was hard to distinguish the structure’s walls from the dirt of the mount. It looked as though the aerie was a part of the hill; swinging doors and windows made of woven sticks and thatch the only things distinguishing it from the mount itself.
Stroan looked up to the Great Aerie from the base of the hill. On its roof perched a giant and regal bird with feathers dark as coal. A frill of black furry feathers adorned the bird’s neck like a mane. From it extended its bare neck and
Stroan turned from the scenery and made towards the edge of the bluff. Coming to the cliff’s lip that hung over the labyrinthine levels of crags and ridges below, Stroan leisurely hopped off and caught the ledge with his right hand as he fell. Using his falling momentum, and gently—almost effortlessly—rocking his body inward, he swung himself onto the bank of the precipice where his hide boots slid against the stone.
He coasted down the precipice, squatting low to keep his balance on the steep and slippery bank. He was fast approaching a crag protruding from the rocks, and as the incline pushed him swiftly towards it, Stroan straightened out his legs and hopped up. Bending his knees in sync with his landing, he dropped softly atop the peak, skipped a few times to keep his momentum, and hopped onto the hill below.
His body floated well among the cliffs, and he took pride in it. Being able to “fly the cliffs” was a skill that brought much status in the Clan of the Condor. It was the reason women ruled and were favored, being naturally lighter and more agile than men, and why any large or overweight person was the object of continual scorn and condemnation. Flying the cliffs like the ancients was something they were all trained to do since they could walk, a skill that was necessary for both mobility and status in the City in the Clouds.
He ran left on the hill and jumped to a tall rocky spire, hugging it tightly. He wouldn’t waste time following the hill all the way down to the low city then climbing back up the cliffs to reach the Long Column. This was his shortcut. He stayed higher in the cliffs, bouncing from bluff to pillar to ledge, then dropping and sliding down to his destination instead of having to climb up.
Still hugging the pillar, Stroan scooted around it to the other side. He lifted his feet higher on the rock and unwrapped his arms from around the stone. He pushed off hard with his legs and turned to catch the cliff that poked out behind him. His body soared as he reached forward with both hands, catching the ledge first with his right hand, his fingers curling into a pocket of stone. His left hand slipped upon first impact with the bluff, but he let it slide down a few inches until it met with a protrusion, and he quickly wrapped it around the stone knob.
He scaled the bluff and made his way down the sharply steep, almost vertical bank that would lead him to the Long Column. With one leg straight and stretched out, the other bent and close to his body, his left hand periodically tapping the rock wall for balance, he coasted down the slope and prepared himself for the big jump ahead.
Stroan pushed off hard and shot through the air.
Pebbles jumped from under his feet as he lifted off the slope, clearing the gap between the hill running down into the gorge below and the column that lay flat like a great stone bridge, resting on giant boulders and leading straight to the foundation of the Great Aerie.
He landed on the column and followed it to Anza’s perch, a tall, high hill with steep sides and a plateau top. It was unlike the other aeries, being built from brick and mortar like a castle in one large circle upon the entire top of the hill. There were four doors allowing entrance from the north, east, south, and west. The walls of the structure were so close to where the slope of the hill began that it was hard to distinguish the structure’s walls from the dirt of the mount. It looked as though the aerie was a part of the hill; swinging doors and windows made of woven sticks and thatch the only things distinguishing it from the mount itself.
Stroan looked up to the Great Aerie from the base of the hill. On its roof perched a giant and regal bird with feathers dark as coal. A frill of black furry feathers adorned the bird’s neck like a mane. From it extended its bare neck and
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