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Relative calm is sometimes described as harmony between two measures of power, the natural balance maintained-in some cases-through unnatural
 of personal agenda. From ancient scripture, the legend of the Lucian Shadow is risen, and the secret poison of that which threatens the Kingdom of Zah's fragile lands is loosed in revenge of its captivity.
The capacity to exercise control is therefore a means to exact peace. Control is synonymous when defining power. One cannot exist without the other. All in all, the subtle silence, quietly vociferous in nature, becomes the catalyst to heightened tension and suspicions over a truce that was arranged without overall consent. The end result is a violent demonstration and an unwise attempt for absolute control. The wild and dangerous hatred between two enemies lies in silence, buried by a contract that neither wish to honor. It is widely rumored that King Corlee will not honor the contract of peace entered into by his daughter, though no word has been received from the dark castle hidden away from the rest of the world. Even the Kingdom of Zah, under the rule of Queen Marrelia is in a state of unrest. It has been days and no word, yet I feel the conclusion draws near. The journey began in dark times, and nothing that has been foretold would persuade me that the days ahead would be any brighter. Whatever the true disposition of the 'end' shall entail, it is coming like a swift horse across the great moor. I feel it in my blood that the manufactured peace will not sit long, and the final crusade for absolute control will be waged. Queen Marrelia will try to avenge the loss of her true love, and it is in part her own spite that poses a threat to the people of her kingdom. For through the loss of her innocence will grow a young woman not unlike her opponent. King Corlee will return and finish what has been started. This I can see as though I had a looking glass to peer into the future. His final rally will be devastating and terrible to all people who are good and true, and given the strength of our rebuttal, I tremble with fright, for insight has lent me a terrible aspect. This I fear, and I know not which direction the wind blows. I wish I had something more than my trepidation to defend me, but alas I am exposed here in trying times. Yet even in my darkest dreams-the ones I awaken from terrified and shivering with sweat-I can see one sprig of life upon a desert of despair. The final hope of Zah is weighed by the outcome of a single hero. The color of this one's heart is undecided as I can feel the confusion even from a great distance. Wars are fought by the actions of many, the politics a greedy vagabond of ever-changing direction. But in the end, it is the strength of the few that win those wars, and I feel the hero will return. This wild one. This crazy, vengeful, wild one they call Skyler.
Click your favorite online bookstore below to purchase Lucian Shadow: Theory of Loravyre
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