The beating at the gate is endless. Storm and nightmare wait without. We gave so much in the hopes of avoiding bloodshed with the North; my father knelt when he knew he should fight, all to save our people from those who fly their banners above our castle's walls.
We feared the North for so long. But our fear was misplaced. Our doom came from elsewhere; from a place we could not have seen. And now, our city is red and the sky is starless. Excerpt from the beginning of the novella.