Part 1

Part 6

“Hold your tongue, you worthless wench,
There are no saints to save you;
We’ll leave your body in a trench
Or perhaps enslave you.

“Your shack will make a useful base
For our next operation;
To keep intact your pretty face
You’d better learn your station.”

Daric spots the vicious voice’s source beside a tree
Four bandits have a fair young maid encircled hopelessly.
Her fiery curls and bold green eyes are strong but full of fear,
Since she is unaware that some help is very near.

Daric grabs a stone and hurls it at the nearest lout,
The bandit crumples to the ground before he can cry out.
The other three all dive for cover and the young maid flees
Towards Daric’s position as they melt into the trees.

“Stay behind me!” Daric calls, emerging sword in hand,
With shield held up and visor down he loudly takes a stand.
“This lady is not here alone, fight now or leave her be!
I have no time for so-called men who act so cowardly.”

They do not reappear, and when it’s clear they’ve gone,
Daric turns to the young maid who’s as graceful as a swan.
“What were you doing way out here, where bandits raid and roam?”
“I sold eggs at the market and was finding my way home.”

“I would escort you there, if your father would not mind.”
“Were he alive he would be very glad to meet your noble kind.
My name is Beatrice, but joy has left my family,
I am all that’s left of our once very fruitful tree.”

“You are all alone out here? Things should not be that way.”
“They would improve if I could ask my rescuer to stay.”
She blushes. “Please forgive me for my shameless forwardness,
A man like you must have important matters to address.”

A man like me? thinks Daric, Oh, my poor girl piteous,
What if beneath this noble shell I am still hideous?
I never thought to look at my reflection since the Hill
Now I dare not show my face, this is a bitter pill.

“Do not idolise me, my good lady, I am flawed;
My past is full of selfishness, bitterness, discord;
Right now I’m on my way to make amends for my old life,
I’ll spare you all the details, and so save you needless strife.”

Part 8

The kindle countdown deals on Beyond the Mist, Nobility Among Us and Selected Verse – Faith and Family end at midnight PST tonight (or tomorrow morning for those of you in later time zones), which is 19 hours away from the time this is posted. If you haven’t already, use your last chance for a long time to grab them at this price. Beyond the Mist in particular is highly recommended by John C. Wright and Jeffro Johnson of Castalia House, among others.

Once the discount is over, I will post some highlights of how each book performed.

Part 1

Part 3

“You asked for hope, that’s all I know;
There is no simple cure.
You have to walk against the flow,
And most of all, endure.”

“Who are you, that you don’t flee
From my horrific countenance?”
“My name is Cuinn, and as you see
This frame would make poor sustenance.

“Fleeing would not help my fate
Nor aid you on your troubled path;
So I’ll stay here by my garden gate,
Offer help and risk your wrath.”

“My name is Daric, or it was, when I was still a man,
If you can truly help me, then I’ll gladly shake your hand.
I only hope the beast in me will stay under control
And one day you will be rewarded for your gracious soul.

A warm meal is provided that gives relief and strength;
Cuinn retrieves a faded map, describes the route at length,
Packs a bag with fresh supplies then sends him on his way,
Towards the distant mountains at the very break of day.

Daric sees a pack of wolves surrounding an old cart,
Threatening to tear its screaming occupants apart.
Brave parents armed with pitchforks try to keep the beasts at bay,
But there is little hope that they will see another day.

Daric charges down the hill, transforming as he leaps
Into the canine pack, discarding bodies piled in heaps.
They retreat when they see he is more fearsome than they,
The little family is now free to go upon their way.

Instead of offering their thanks, their cries grow shriller still,
They fear him more than snarling wolves who closed in for the kill.
Their lack of gratitude inflames the growling beast within;
He flees before it takes control and wipes out all their kin.

Daric presses on through hills and fields alive with streams,
Through dark and barren lands that seem more like a fever dream,
Past riverbanks and still lake shores and even ocean coasts,
By ruined citadels whose shadows swarm with silent ghosts.

Then at last he spots the end point that is marked upon his map
The beast screams deep within him that this place is but a trap.
He ventures forward warily to scale the verdant slope
As bitter fear is blended with a truly lethal hope.

Part 5

Part 1

Part 2

His claws have half retracted,
But he’s clearly still a freak.
While he is thus distracted
He’s startled by a squeak.

“Hmm, what do we have out here?”
Says an old man with a staff.
He squints his eyes, displays no fear,
And comments with a laugh:

“A wanderer, I wonder,
To venture out this far;
It makes me pause and ponder
Whether you know where you are.”

“Stay back, old man, for your own sake,
Or call for help at least;
The rage within me may yet break,
I’ve been cursed by the beast.”

“That much is clear, my burdened friend,
Your teeth and claws stand out;
You’re not the first to meet his end
And end up hearabout.”

“Meet his end, so I am dead?
I failed like all the rest?”
“No, you somehow kept your head
And now you are my guest.

“I’ll wager you don’t live in fear
Of losing name or station,
So can stand and persevere
Upon a new foundation.”

“I cling to life but barely,
Guilt and rage tear at my soul.
Clarity comes rarely,
How can I hope to be made whole?”

“There is a way, old rumors say,
To dissipate this curse.
Though on the Hill of Myth there may
Be also something worse.”

“Worse than this affliction?
What could cause me more regret?
What sort of benediction
Carries such an awful threat?”

Part 4