Fatewrought

‘It is a truth universally acknowledged that power, once corrupted, must inevitably seek its own restoration—though the means by which Providence chooses to accomplish such restoration may prove most extraordinary indeed.’

In the fair realm of Lumina, where six quarters flourish in harmonious discord, the inhabitants have long enjoyed the particular advantages of their elemental gifts—earth, flame, air, water, light, and shadow each bestowing their native graces upon the deserving. Yet above all such earthly endowments stands one power of surpassing magnificence: the Avatar's flame, that most sacred force once granted by the Fates themselves to souls of unblemished virtue and unassailable strength.

Alas, that virtue should prove so fragile a thing, and desire so persistent a master.

When the gods found themselves most shamefully deceived, and false deities arose to claim what was never theirs to possess, the Avatar's power suffered such corruption as might have destroyed all creation. The Fates, in their infinite—if somewhat tardy—wisdom, were obliged to seal away this tremendous force and fashion a most singular safeguard: the Omega Flame.

Enter Miss Éiravojna Skelysandra, a young lady whose circumstances are perhaps more extraordinary than even the most discerning reader might anticipate. Born of prophecy and wrought for retribution, she finds herself in the rather unprecedented position of serving as the Fates' chosen instrument—their Slayer of False Gods, if you will.

Yet prophecy, as any person of sense must acknowledge, proves an uncommonly unreliable companion.

Through the particular malice of Syrrhalis—that most disagreeable goddess of Lies, Dream-Deceit, and Moonlight Prophecies—our heroine was condemned at birth to eternal slumber, voiceless and forgotten. Only through the Fates' intervention, binding a second soul to her own, was she granted the dubious privilege of consciousness. Now awakened, Miss Skelysandra must navigate the treacherous waters of divine society, where political machinations prove far more perilous than any earthly blade, and where truth itself becomes a commodity of questionable value.

For Syrrhalis has neither forgiven nor forgotten the child she once cursed. That goddess harbors still a most particular hunger—for vengeance, for the Omega Flame, and for the very soul from which Éiravojna was wrought. Nor does she hunt alone; others have begun to perceive the value of what our heroine carries, and their attentions prove most unwelcome indeed.

Miss Skelysandra would be well-advised to proceed with the utmost caution. Should her heart fall into unscrupulous hands, her soul—being the very path to the Flame—may suffer such destruction as would restore the curse's dominion. And should that calamity come to pass, even the Fates might find themselves disinclined to offer salvation a second time.

Uniting the sweeping grandeur of epic fantasy with the refined sensibilities of classical literature, Fatewrought presents a tale both magnificent in scope and delicate in execution—certain to delight those who appreciate the mythic complexity of Brandon Sanderson rendered in the elegant prose of Jane Austen.