Exile's Song

This story takes place in the year 2100, many years before the events of the Keverynn Trilogy.

Excerpt
"So, who are your people, anyway?" Drianna asked as she sat in the gardens, gazing up at the nearly full silver moon. The blue moon was nowhere to be seen. Their ever present red sister was a slender crescent among the stars.

Deiwynn looked up at the sky, a familiar, old ache clenching her heart. Not for the first time since leaving her childhood home she said, "My people are long dead. They are no more."

The dark haired Warrior gave her a questioning look, her frosty lock of hair obscuring half of her face as usual. "But who were they?"

Deiwynn stood, adjusting her hood. "It is a painful subject for me to speak of," she managed to say. "Please, do not ask me again."

She left the garden, climbing the stairs to her private floor. She walked down the quiet hallway, the cool moonlight pouring though the tall windows that lined one side of it, providing the only illumination. None of the lamps had been lit and she preferred it that way. There was something so soothing about the pure moonlight that couldn't be found in contained fire.

Deiwynn paused to look out of one window, placing one white skinned hand on the smooth, cool glass. Her throat felt tight as it always did whenever someone other than Llyr or her mate brought up the subject of her people and her home.

Even after all these long years it hurts, she mused. ''I doubt that anyone there even remembers me, yet I can never return. I burned that bridge long ago. I wonder who succeeded Aieliana. Maybe it was Delusha. Or perhaps Sithraye. Both were good riders with strong dragons.''

As it always did, questions about her past sent her mind back to her last days on the unknown island chain of the Eastern coast of Keverynn's mainland, known by its inhabitants as Alastea.