Listross’s dark, rage-filled eyes turned to Eppra. He tightened his grip on his sword. “You little-!” The door to the manor house flew open and Grink ran to Listross, his right hand man at his side. “Prince. From what my men and I can tell, battle between us and the Ferronians started at the Rigor farm. News started coming this way. We subdued the blacksmith and his family before he awoke, but, as you can hear, they’re almost here.” “To arms!” Listross pointed his weapon towards the door as seven men from the city pushed into the room, engaging all the Tavalaskian men. Listross took a step back as he parried a blow to his torso. He nearly tripped over Magistrate Ossillion in the process.
Listross hoisted Emmya off his shoulders and set her down on the grass. “You’re getting a little big for this. I can’t believe you’ll be five next week.” “Daddy?” Emmya took his hand and walked next to him. Over the past few days, they traveled slow. Some god must have found favor with Listross and had preserved the map from the flames that took the manor house. They used it to avoid any cities or large plantations but did plan to make another raid soon. Grink had suggested they try to acquire more men to find greater favor with the ruler of Sholance. On top of that, Listross knew he needed rest. The wound on his arm had already opened up once from trying to do too much. He was in no condition to battle. “Yes, dear?” Listross rubbed the back of his neck and scanned over the group of Tavalskians in front of him. “I don’t want another extra potato for my birthday this year.” Listross smiled. “What do you want?” Emmya stopped walking and looked down. “I want mama to come back.”
Listross hugged Emmya tight. “I should be back in a few days.” “Please don’t go, Daddy.” She clung onto his arm. “You know I must. Now be good for Flouth while I’m gone.” Listross picked Emmya up and tightly hugged her. He felt the soft tug of her curls untangling from his beard as he handed her to Flouth. “We’ll have fun!” Flouth hoisted her into the air, caught her, and rubbed his large nose on her belly. Emmya simultaneously giggled and groaned. Listross patted Flouth’s shoulder. “Thank you.” Flouth shrugged. His long hair swayed in the breeze. “It’s an honor, Prince. Now go so you’ll actually arrive before sunrise.” Listross kissed Emmya’s button nose and pink lips. He leaned in close and whispered goodbye in her ear. Adjusting the pack on his shoulder, he set out east towards the next farm.
Cover Art by Sarah Mileusnich How it works Listross has grown up as a slave on a potato plantation as long as he can remember. Like everyone, he wants freedom. Especially now that he witnesses his daughter suffering. Your job is to help Listross make the best decisions to get there. No pressure! Each week... Continue Reading →