Prologue

Ket Thompson stood in front of the grave, fighting down the swell of emotions that rose like a torrent, up his throat and at the back of his eyes, threatening to pour forth. Out of all of the emotions, he was unsure which was he was to feel most prominently: was it regret that should stand first, or perhaps the depression that should be overwhelming him? Fury, at both himself and the race of vile creatures, Manumos? The one that he tried to suppress most was the one that scared him the most: indifference. Half-formed, crazy thoughts dribbled into his mind:

‘Why does it matter anymore?’ whispered his mind as he stared at the large stone slab. ‘Why should I care? He’s dead now.’

He’s dead now.

One of the biggest sensations that thudded through his brain, his stomach, his heart, was denial. He wasn’t dead…he had merely placed a decoy on that spot, and it wasn’t him who had died…it was a doll, a fake…

Even though he furiously pounded these things into his mind, thinking them repeatedly, trying to convince his subconscious that this was the truth, he knew it wasn’t. Ket knew that, beneath the grave, lay the real body of an astounding man – a man who hadn’t even known he was dead, because he had been drained of his soul and willpower long before. Torture and hexes had long ago stolen those precious things from him.

“Ketakano,” called out a gentle and familiar voice, using his full name. Ket slowly, painstakingly, pulled his eyes from the grave and towards the two beautiful people standing a few feet away, looking weary and solemn. One of them – the one who had called out to him – was his father’s cousin, Cathair Cambridge. The other was Evelyn Breckenridge, Mr. Cambridge’s daughter. She had recently gotten married to a Mr. Gabriel Breckenridge, and Ket knew – even though Evelyn didn’t – that she was due to have a child in eight months.

“Ketakano, let’s go,” called Evelyn softly. “We’re almost back home, right on Winterberry Island – wouldn’t it be lovely to reunite with Kyara and Jason?”

His heart throbbed with anger and anguish every time somebody called him “Ketakano”. It brought back too much pain, too much regret.

Ket wanted to go back home to the homey island of Winterberry. It had been over a year and a half since he had left to see his father’s homeland, and he desperately wanted to see his adoptive mother, just to say hello and fall into the familiar creases of her hugs. Plus, when Ket had left, his adoptive mother, Kyara Larkin (maiden named Thompson, which Ket used as his own) had been pregnant. Ket wanted to meet the baby: he knew nothing about it except that, if it was a girl, she would be as beautiful as her mother and, if it was a boy, it would be as handsome as his father. Plus, he missed all of the children. It had been hard, surrounded by adults and having to be more mature than he really was ready to be. He had never had much interaction with the other children, and he had missed out on a lot of his childhood because of his crazed lifestyle. There was a certain sandy-haired youth he wanted to see, to talk to – and maybe her older brother.

“I’ll never forgive them,” he announced in a strangled sob as he slowly strode over to where Evelyn and Mr. Cambridge were standing. The two looked surprised but listened intently, hoping to encourage Ket to speak more. “Never,” he repeated, shaking his head slowly. “Not even if I kill them all.”

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This is Book Three in my "Manumo and Miringa" series. If you start reading at this book, then I suppose it's okay -- because in Chapter One I give the basic summary of Books One and Two --, but if you want the whole story, I suggest you browse Books One and Two -- The Basket and The Skyline. Just a suggestion; if you think I do a sufficent job explaining in Chapter One, then you don't have to read the other two books.

Another note: as I stated once before, I appreciate it if my readers review frequently. I only ask this because I usually never post a new chapter until I get at least one review, because I don't want to overload readers with many chapters. From personal experience, I find that having too many chapters to read results in me just giving up on reading the story. Also, as one might have noticed, I have four books lacking a deciatee. When and if this series is published, I will gladly put down friendly and faithful readers as my dedicatee. I've already done that with two people: one has Ne Faras Forgesi (part of the Sovenvar series and no longer upon FictionPress) dedicated to her, and the other has The Skyline dedicated to her.

Well, that's all. Thanks for reading!!!