Amilee, Book I of the Our Salvation Trilogy (Part I of the Saga of Byd)
The story starts with Amilee getting kicked out of the Beda Academy, the main school where the Sisterhood's young students learn how to control their powers. Amilee's power is to much for her to manage, so she is sent to Havarte, the main headquarters of the Sisterhood, where she meets Henry (the only boy to ever have a power or be a full Sisterhood member) and lives for several years, learning about the Sisterhood's mission to overthrow the men of the Valley, who hate and fear women, whom they think are lower class. Then through another accident Henry and Amilee are thrown out of the Sisterhood. After a few misadventures they meet Natalia, Henry's cousin who was sent to bring him to his father, one of the Valley Lords. She decides to betray her uncle and joins Amilee and Henry. First they must rescue her brother Seekial. But then another piece of bad luck happens and Henry's previously unknown twin sister Esile captures them and takes them to Rovagaurd, Henry and Esile's father's city. There Amilee, Natalia, and Henryl meet Fayne, a servant who secretly has a power, and Henry is told that if he doesn't help his father, his friends will be killed. What will they do?
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Byd. Life, love, joy, and hope were once plentiful in this world, a land of the wilderness, of the wind, the rain, and the soil. A place ruled by a magical force, a world of wonder. A land where life itself had a mystical beauty.
Then came the darkness, the spirits of the moonless night. The loss of hope became common, and the streams lost their sparkle. Creatures of the night ruled, as the people lost the harmony and peace they had once believed in utterly. The men blamed the women, for some of them had their own magic, their small abilities to make up for the pain they endured in childbirth and life in general. And the men made laws governing the women, their mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters. Polygamy became common, the the world was fraught with horrors for the females of the human race. They were all but abandoned, as the dwarves retreated north to their mountain caves, and the dragons became no more than a myth. They banished the Fae to the Forest of Frix, and the selkies sank to the watery depths. Sarako, Leanbh, ogres, and all sorts of terrors emerged, some bonding themselves to the service of the most vile men, the Valley Lords.
In this hope-forsaken land, one girl grew strong, stronger than anyone else. Her name inspired terror amongst the people of the Valley, her strength was that of legends. Her sister too was powerful, a girl who was quicker than a galloping horse. She could run from one side of Byd to the other in a mere four days, a trip that took ten on a decent animal. Then at last a third girl was born, one more wise than the oldest elder, her name was often accompanied by the title Farseer. The girls, with the help of the Fae, created an organization to overthrow the Valley Lords and save the kingdoms. The sisters spent decades drawing recruits, passing things on to the next generation. Finally, they died, leaving a grand legacy. And they did not leave without hope. There was the One Who Is The Three, who spoke for them and for the Goddess. And there was the prophecy. The hope for ages to come.
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Miriam remembers:
The sky was dark when it happened, the stars splattered across it like fireflies. She was so young when she made the prophecy, so fragile, her wispy blonde hair framing a face not older than nine. Her eyes, a mystical silver in color, had little age and experience behind them. The fire crackled, sending up sparks, and she huddled close to it. Her sister Hellia’s raven-colored waves fell down in front of her dark eyes as she arranged the spit to cook the dozon meat the oldest, Zoey, had caught. Zoey herself sat on rock about three span from the firelight, her blonde hair braided loosely.
“Supper, Miri?” Hellia asked softly, pulling a skewer of meat from the fire.
Miriam opened her mouth to respond, but found her mouth overtaken by words that were not her own.
"A boy king our land will one day boast,
A savior, a boy who channels the ghosts,
Half an orphan, left in the sun.
Truly a child of only one,
This boy shall grow,
Learn all he needs to know,
Though seemingly just a pup,
Once risen up,
Can cure the world.”
Then came the darkness, the spirits of the moonless night. The loss of hope became common, and the streams lost their sparkle. Creatures of the night ruled, as the people lost the harmony and peace they had once believed in utterly. The men blamed the women, for some of them had their own magic, their small abilities to make up for the pain they endured in childbirth and life in general. And the men made laws governing the women, their mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters. Polygamy became common, the the world was fraught with horrors for the females of the human race. They were all but abandoned, as the dwarves retreated north to their mountain caves, and the dragons became no more than a myth. They banished the Fae to the Forest of Frix, and the selkies sank to the watery depths. Sarako, Leanbh, ogres, and all sorts of terrors emerged, some bonding themselves to the service of the most vile men, the Valley Lords.
In this hope-forsaken land, one girl grew strong, stronger than anyone else. Her name inspired terror amongst the people of the Valley, her strength was that of legends. Her sister too was powerful, a girl who was quicker than a galloping horse. She could run from one side of Byd to the other in a mere four days, a trip that took ten on a decent animal. Then at last a third girl was born, one more wise than the oldest elder, her name was often accompanied by the title Farseer. The girls, with the help of the Fae, created an organization to overthrow the Valley Lords and save the kingdoms. The sisters spent decades drawing recruits, passing things on to the next generation. Finally, they died, leaving a grand legacy. And they did not leave without hope. There was the One Who Is The Three, who spoke for them and for the Goddess. And there was the prophecy. The hope for ages to come.
---------------------------------------------------
Miriam remembers:
The sky was dark when it happened, the stars splattered across it like fireflies. She was so young when she made the prophecy, so fragile, her wispy blonde hair framing a face not older than nine. Her eyes, a mystical silver in color, had little age and experience behind them. The fire crackled, sending up sparks, and she huddled close to it. Her sister Hellia’s raven-colored waves fell down in front of her dark eyes as she arranged the spit to cook the dozon meat the oldest, Zoey, had caught. Zoey herself sat on rock about three span from the firelight, her blonde hair braided loosely.
“Supper, Miri?” Hellia asked softly, pulling a skewer of meat from the fire.
Miriam opened her mouth to respond, but found her mouth overtaken by words that were not her own.
"A boy king our land will one day boast,
A savior, a boy who channels the ghosts,
Half an orphan, left in the sun.
Truly a child of only one,
This boy shall grow,
Learn all he needs to know,
Though seemingly just a pup,
Once risen up,
Can cure the world.”