Nix is fourteen years old, blue-skinned and storm-haired, and his magic has just torn through him in the middle of a winter forest, eight years before it was ever meant to arrive. It left a wound in his chest and something dangerous loose in the world, and now he is running. Three brothers find him bleeding in the Sentinel Forest and do not turn away. What follows is their journey together through MirMarnia, an ancient world of breathing forests, river magic, and creatures older than any name for them, as four unlikely companions discover that the things hunting Nix are only the beginning of what this world has in store.
The Scrollkeepers Archive
Chapter 43: Liv
The air felt taut, as though the forest itself were listening, waiting for whatever truth Olis might choose to release into the night.
Chapter 42: As Old as Ysildras
The smell of old ash met them when they ducked inside, faint and familiar, the ghost of fires that other travellers had made in this place and let go cold.
Chapter 41: A Reckoning
Nix’s ears were flattened tight against his head. His fangs had lengthened into sharp, gleaming points. The runic patterns on his skin flared in alarm, bright and urgent, pulsing with the instinctive warning of a Lightweaver sensing threat.
Chapter 40: Færlom
Without hesitation, Olis reached past the boys and into Bran’s pack. His hand closed around the Færlom, which he pulled free and pressed firmly into Bran’s other hand. The device was humming now….
Chapter 39: Crystalsong Forest
As he spoke, his voice carried the weight of centuries, soft yet resonant, like something shaped by long winds and older skies.
Chapter 38: Cadogan
The liquid folded in on itself, settling into the shapes of goblets as though the air had decided to hold them. One by one, they drifted outwards. Each goblet floated to its intended hands, even to Harthos at the door, who accepted his with a knowing delight and drank with his eyes closed, as though the taste carried him somewhere familiar.
Chapter 37: Olis, Scribe of MirMarnia
Timatticus moved swiftly along the path, his silhouette cutting through the dimming light. At each bend, he paused, sweeping a sharp, searching gaze across the quiet dwellings before signalling them on.