Rise of the Forgotten Sun by Jon Monson EPUB & PDF

Rise of the Forgotten Sun by Jon Monson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

• Status: Available for Free Download
• Author: Jon Monson
• Language: English
• Genre: Coming of Age Fantasy
• Format: PDF / EPUB
• Size: 2 MB
• Price: Free

Alarun could sense the explosion before it shook the stony ground, the
sharp crack reverberating through the high mountain air. The world had
grown overly quiet in the moments before detonation, as if the mountain
had been preparing itself for the coming destruction. For the briefest of
moments, the darkened sky displayed the brilliance it had lacked for so long
as fire illuminated the horizon.

The sound echoed on the cliffs, refusing to abandon the blackened
and smoldering world. Alarun let the vibrations fill his chest, daring them to
do their worst. As the echo released the mountain from its grip, a silence
took its place – stronger and somehow more deafening.
From his vantage point at the edge of a cliff, Alarun could see the
destruction waged on the world he had worked so hard to create by a war he
should have tried harder to prevent. Fields that had once shimmered like a
sea of gold in the sunset had been reduced to endless plains of white ash.
Forests filled with trees that had witnessed the Creation had been leveled.
The once sparkling rivers and lakes now sat polluted, reservoirs of filth and
disease.

Worse than the destruction, worse than the ash, worse than the
bloodshed that had claimed millions was the thick blanket of grey covering
the sky. The dense clouds cast a pall over the entire world, like a shroud
being drawn over a still-warm corpse. Yet this world was not quite dead –
not yet at least.
It’s all your fault. You know that, right?
The voice never ceased its taunting.

A bitter wind blew from the plains, bringing with it the stench of ash
and decay. Long strands of golden hair flew into his face as the wind
swirled around him. His skin prickled, the light tunic doing little to protect
him from the cold.
Cold. It was a sensation he had never even imagined before the war.
Now, it was a constant companion.

You fancied yourself a god. Would a god really let this happen to his
creations?
Alarun ignored the voice, knowing that silence still reigned over the
semi-darkness. He also knew that if he ever acknowledged the voice in his
head, then his descent into madness would be complete. It was best to just
let it moan and complain it retreated into the inner recesses of his mind.
He turned from his vigil, forcing his mind – the parts of it he still
controlled – to focus on the road ahead. He would need whatever remained
of his waning power if he were to save even a remnant of this world. There
was no use wasting precious time and energy on pining for what was lost.

The leather soles of his sandals crunched on the packed soil of the
winding path that led up the increasingly rough slope. The trail was crude
and eroded, nearly washed out in several places. Yet it took him higher,
closer with each step to victory and death.
Voices – real ones – sounded ahead. An officer barked orders, and
heavy boots pounded the trail as soldiers rushed to obey. Weapons and
armor rattled as the footsteps fell silent.

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