The Mirror of the Moon (Revenant Wyrd Book 2) by Travis Simmons Read Free Book Online

necromantic gift that her daughter, Cianna, possessed which suspended Pharoh between the world of the living and the world of the dead. That bit of her mother that was passed onto her, that brought her to being, was the same thread the strong necromancy in Cianna clung to and twisted, forcing it to take root in something physical. Cianna refused to let her mother die.
    “The sorceress knew this would happen. By stating that fact the evening before she died, she had given Sylvie an object in which her soul, her essence, would be stored upon her death. She had counted on her daughter’s gift to react the way it did. If Cianna’s wyrd had not done its part and suspended Pharoh’s soul in the required object, then all might have been lost.
    “See, Pharoh understood she had done wrong by the Goddess. She was not sure what she had done, but I am convinced in time she came to understand her wrongdoing lay in turning away from her task. So it was that she came to believe the Goddess had turned her back on her.
    “Pharoh needed no more convincing of this fact the night her love murdered her. I am sure to her it felt like the Goddess took retribution on Pharoh for her ineptitude in completing her assigned task.”
    Everyone in the room knew what happened next, for all the books revealed that Sylvie picked up her sister’s shin-buto and slew Arael. Documents told that his dying was marked by a great storm, which some speculated could also have been the Goddess’s fury at the people of the Great Realms who let Chaos in so far that one of her chosen daughter’s would be killed. Thus, as a result, the world split. When the next day dawned, it was not only marked with great sorrow for the passing of Pharoh LaFaye, but it was also marred by the horror of what had happened to the once Great Realms. The Realm of Spirit was lost forever.
    Grace took a long drink of her palisum liquor, her voice still sounding heavy with ghosts of her past. Tears stood in her water blue eyes, but they refused to fall, refused to dampen her cheeks.
    “So it was, after Pharoh had died and given her sister the essence of her soul, that Sylvie found the love she never thought she would. Understand that Sylvie was not seeking love. No, she was very much the warrior and the protector. It nearly killed her when Pharoh died, and she roved the lands hunting dalua. She had stopped teaching the ways of the Goddess, and instead she struck out on her own personal task: vendetta. She hunted down all the dalua she could and utterly destroyed them. This began with the rest of the grigori. The death she brought them was horrible, painful, and absolute. Sylvie killed them with a coldness none had seen her possess before. She was like death’s sweet scythe, slicing through the masses of dalua she found. In fact, she hunted so long and so resolutely it appeared there would be no dalua left in all the Great Realms. She rained down fury on all that opposed her. Sylvie was haunted by Pharoh’s death and that was the fever which steeled her and dampened her sword with the blood of Chaos. She fought alone. It was evident she reserved the pleasure of genocide for herself alone, and would not let any of the Shadow’s Grove accompany her. We had to kill on our own missions. Sylvie thought this would be the course of her life until the time the Goddess called her home.
    “She was wrong.
    “Sylvie fell in love and was married. It was not long after that when she became pregnant, and to protect her family from Chaos, she changed her name. See, after Sylvie stopped hunting the dalua, they came back. There was no way she could kill all of them. When some died, more came to take their place. They are like a sickness that you can never be rid of.”
    Jovian scoffed “With all she had done, Sylvie didn’t think she could protect her own family?”
    Grace raised her eyebrows taking an absent-minded puff on her pipe. Joya, however, had another question brewing, a question that made