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The voices of the boy and the Kernaffi commander
echoed through the palace halls long after the rooftop had
returned to the clean air, bright sun, and nature's honest
wind.
The road to exile was very long. For Sturm Brightblade, this was
only the beginning.
Heart of Goldmoon
Laura Hickman and Kate Novac
The air of excitement was high as the Que-shu tribe
milled before the ancient stone platform that was the focus
of their village. Everyone was clad in colorful festive
raiment. Adding to the delight of the senses was the
delectable smell of foods being prepared for the celebration
to come.
One by one, however, the exhilarated men, women, and
children fell into silence as their attention was caught by a
lone young woman, climbing the granite construction
before them. Soon, all was still. No child giggled, no babe
even cried. Nothing disturbed the faint shuffling sound
made by the slippered feet of the holy woman as she
ascended to the platform.
The woman was Goldmoon, princess and priestess of
the Que-shu. Those who watched knew that upon her death
- in the far future - Goldmoon would become a goddess, as
had her mother, Tearsong, and all her deceased ancestors
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