The Liars Game (Revised Edition)
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Transcript of The Liars Game (Revised Edition)
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DN: Located Above is the cover of the First Edition Copy.
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Mise en Abyme 1: The World RebornAtticus
In which we both beg in and end
The best stories are stories thathave happened. Stories of those who came before us. Much can be learned
from history, my dear boy. Never, ever underestimate the past. For there is a reason those stories are called history
the word itself literally means his story. It is importantnot like those made up things your wet-nurse always tells
you. Filling your head with useless nonsense, filling your empty head with space filling cotton it is little wonder
you are so rambunctious these days. With notions of fairie folk and all the like. Nonsense. Useless, utter nonsense.
The old historian spat as he hobbled about his library, hunched over, his cane tapping here and there upon the
polished wooden floor as he went.
Can I go play now? I dont much like history or his story, or what-cha-ma call it. Can I? Please?Atticus
pleaded from his seat at h is desk, looking the picture o f absolute misery. He pouted, his face p lanted heavily in a
bored hand as he grasped his best quill in his other, doodling dragons in black ink upon h is parchment instead of
doing his arithmetic. His tutor was too busy straitening one of the many musty old books in his collection with a
shaky, atrophying hand to notice that his pupil was off task.
My answer is the same as it was a few minutes ago, Atticus , and will remain the same for the duration of
the time you are in my charge. No.
The old man stroked his pure white beard that hung down to his potbelly as he contemplated whether it
would be better to file the Tales of Grimwulf and Skorromir in the history or the myth section of the library. It was a
difficult decision, seeing as the works historical merit was dubious at best.
But
No buts. Your mother has tasked me with teaching you the skills you need to be a successful young man.
And I will do just that. You may play after we have completed all your tasks for today. The old man chided as he
stooped to dust off one of his beloved books on the lowest shelf.
But I wanna go play with my friends. The festival is today, Whined Atticus pathetically, as he stared out
the window that was in front of his desk. Outside, the city children were playing a game of tag, ducking and dodging
through the crowd of commonfolk that had come to Anncantale for the festival. He could almost hear them giggling
and laughing without him.
Want to not wanna, Atticus! Why must I always tell you that?
Atticus sighed heavily.
Comment [C1]: Ive never truly
should title these sections. They are
because they arent part of the mai
they arent separate from the main
occur years after the story. They ar
interjections than anything, but it d
sense to title a section Interjection
Reborn. So I settled with Mise en A
literally means in French placed in
used to describe literary moments w
within a story narrative occurs. The
have with labeling it Mise en Abym
knowledge that technically, the act
story is the main story, not the inte
Atticus. However, it would be stupi
single chapter Mise en Abyme. I g
about this decision. I may change it
obvious solution is to leave these se
however, because there are so few
that the casual reader may lose trac
forget that they take place at a diffe
the main story.
Comment [C2]: This title refers
Jezebels prophecy (located later in
By Fire and Flame,
The World Will Be Reborn
By the will of the seven who remain
Strong in this blight.
The greatest king is yet to come,
A hero whose name will neer be su
It is a very abbreviated summary of
hints strongly at the ending. One of
most about this story is i ts bittersw
ending.
These sections from Atticus oc cur n
the world is reborn.
Comment [C3]: Atticus W. A. Deafter Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mo
Atticus is the son of two of the main
The Liars Game.
Comment [C4]: Literally. This sc
beginning scene and the ending sce
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The old man hobbled over to h is young charge. He studied the boy for a moment.
Then let the guise of sternness fall away.
Atticus, Hugo said softly, taking pity on him. There is something very important I wanted to teach you
today. After I tell you what it is, you can decide whether or not you would like to stay and learn, or go out and play.
I have decided that I will not hold you either way, but I feel that you will want stay once I tell you. Do we have a
deal, young one?
Atticus nodded enthusiastically, planning to entertain the old man for just a few moments more. There was
no way he was going to stay inside while there was a festival going on.
Can you tell me your middle names, please? Asked the old man in a quiet voice. He gripped his cane
with both hands, attempting to calm his quavering frail body.
Atticus looked up from the window, confused. He turned to his teacher, gazing quizzically at him with his
emerald green eyes. He pushed the strands of white blonde hair out from in front of his face.
But Hugo you already know my middle names, Atticus laughed, befuddled. His voice came out
quashed, higher than he intended for it to be in his confusion.
Hugo smiled slightly. I know your names. But the question is, do you?
Atticuss brow furrowed.
Alistair Wilhelm. Why did you want me to say them?
The old man chuckled. Do you know why you have two middle names? He sat down in his favorite
padded chair beside Atticuss desk, his joints creaking as much as the old wood of the chair as it strained to take on
his weight.
I I thought everyone had two middle names.
Hugo laughed, and quickly fell into a fit of coughing. He sputtered, and then regained control of himself.
He took a steadying breath. Not very many people have two. Of course, not many people are named after heroes
who came before them, either, He hesitated, glancing towards the young blonde boy before continuing. Atticus
stared at him, listening. Your mother and I have decided its time we tell you about your heritage your history.
You are old enough now. Its time we told you about the Great War about the
Silver Dragon, the Black Demon of
the Night and the Murderer King. About the Lady Lioness, the Titians Fist, and the Angel. And most of all about
the Liar the man who both destroyed and remade this Kingdom. It is time you knew about the follies and the
triumphs of your ancestors. It is time we told you about the heroes who made this land peaceful again, a peace that
you must ensure continues when you are grown, and we are old and gone .
Comment [C5]: Friar Hugo has a
my story as Gandalf the Grey does
however, Hugo is significantly less s
plotline. He exists in each of the Kin
books in various forms and a ges, an
primarily as comic relief. He is a bum
man with a passion for history (whi
to explain the complex lore of Alba
point he was a terrible soldier and g
next a wayfaring storyteller and a b
friar, the next a halfhearted diplom
librarian in his old age. He helps con
together, with its many different m
and secondary characters, by simpl
there. Arguably, that is what makes
keystone characters for the entire s
though Hugo is not a hero per se.
Comment [C6]: Named for Hun
Morgan (Marshall of the Empire an
of the Night) and Martin Wilhelm M
Silver Dragon, Champion of the Loy
Companion to the Lioness Queen, a
last name means Wednesday in Old
a bastard name for bastard children
men are main characters in TLG, an
father figures to Atticus, though m
Comment [C7]: Martin Wilhelm
Comment [C8]: Hunter Alistair
Comment [C9]: Dayyan Vance
Comment [C10]: Lady Laranu D
a better title but this was what she
in song.
Comment [C11]: Titania Penna
Twelve
Comment [C12]: Shasta Delaro
Comment [C13]: Mulgarath Gra
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Hugo looked at Atticus, stroking his beard. The boy stared at him intently, his innocent emerald green eyes
wide with interest.
Wait The boy asked, his vo ice hopeful. Does this mean youre going to tell me about my dad? Youre
finally going to tell me?
Yes. Hugo smiled, But if youd rather go to the festival that is acceptable as well
No No. I think Id rather hear this now.
Hugo raised an eyebrow incredulously. He wasnt convinced.
Please? Atticus pleaded. I promise Ill do all my chores without being asked to for a full week and uh
Ill do my math I guess. Just please tell me. I wanna know. I wan na know what he did, why everyone respects
and loves him so much.
Hugo smiled. Well then, He cleared his throat and began stroking his white beard again. I think it best to
start long before you were born, before even your father was born
Arent you going to read from one of your history books? Atticus asked, interrupting, slightly offended.
Or are you just making this up?
Hugo snorted, a little insulted. Ill have you know I need no book for this, I was there
You were there?! Atticus neverwould have guessed that the old historian would have ever been involved
in anything interesting. He was always so intent on having boring peace and quiet.
Yes, I knew both your father and your grandfather. I traveled with both now, no more interruptions or no
more story!
Sorry, Hugo.
Now where was I? Asked the old historian.
The part where you were going to start before my father was born.
Ah, yes. It is best to start long ago on the night of the Fall of the Dellatone. When Queen Adrianna ruled
these lands in a tumultuous time of upheaval The night when this world changed forever
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1 The Decent into DarknessAdrianna Dellatone
Before that day no one had ever known true darkness.
Run Addie! Just keep moving! bellowed the young soldier behind her in between heaving breaths,
seizing her thin arm and pushing her to run faster, his voice filled with panic and anger. His feet hammered heavily
upon the stone steps of the tower as they thundered down the winding stairs surging for the only solace they had left.
Adriannas breath came in ragged gasps as her legs moved heavy as led, her muscles screaming and clawing at her
bones, blackness encroaching upon her v ision. They had been running for hours, dodging the rebelling so ldiers that
had sided with
Serpentine as the night violently displaced the day. Her whole being hurt and her mind was slow
consumed with fatigue and terror. They descended as fast as they could, stone stairs whipping by underneath her
exhausted feet. The wind whipped at her face, causing the gashes cut by swords to sting and break back open, hot
red blood streaming down her cheeks like tears. Behind her, her valiant protector furtively glanced over his shoulder
in fear as he drew the royal sword, the twin dragons of the Dellatone curling about his hands, the precious metal of
their gold and silver wings shining even in the ominous flickering darkness of the castle. In the center of the pommel
a multifaceted azure sapphire was set, sparkles dancing across its shining surface as it reflected the ruddy light of the
trembling and terrified flames around it. It was strange, how natural and perfect the Sapphire Star looked in his
hands yet how out of place and awkward it had always looked in hers.
I am too kind for this type of life. I was never suited for rule.
Yet, he was. He always had been, which was why she had grown to admire him. She respected him because
he was strong, passionate, caring, and loved him because to her, he was perfect. He was everything she had ever
wanted to beand everything she was not. He was the one that deserved to be King Adrianna had never wanted
the throne, power never had interested her she only had wanted freedom from the expectations and useless rules
that bound noble born women. She had only accepted the role she had been born into because she sought to protect
the people of her beloved nation. To her, that sword represented only obligations and chains of responsibility. It was
a relic of a golden age that had long since passed and been forgotten. But to him, that sword was a tool of great
power, a welcome responsibility that he was more than capable of wielding in defense of his love and her nation.
Why cant he be King. Why
ADRIANNA! It was a screech unlike any other. It was the sound of absolute hatred and pain, the sound
of a mad man with nothing left to lose, no one left to love. A crash sounded through the tower as their pursuer broke
through the reinforced metal door floors above. Adrianna forced herself to surge forward with a new burst of speed
even though she was reaching her limit. She prayed he wouldnt be able to hear the pounding of her and her lovers
footsteps as they charged down the stairs towards the only safety left in this castle.
Comment [C14]: This is/was th
Edition Serial One. If the Second Ed
or split into parts to be published, I
first section to retain its original na
Comment [C15]: Adrianna Del
main character of the prequel nove
The Legends of the Fall. She is quee
Kingdom of Albainia, and is known f
love affair with a common soldier, w
notbe revealed in this very brief firalso known as the Wolf Queen for r
in The Legends of the Fall (which w
from here on out as LOTF). The pu
section is to connect the story with
is also in that novel) and to serve as
beginning of The Liars Game (a bbr
here on out as TLG). It helps to esta
the lore behind the story that, I hav
through trial and error, when told a
from a history book is dry and unint
(significant change from First Editio
Comment [C16]: Each chapter w
a different main characters point o
largely limited to what they know. T
limited to Adriannas viewpoint (th
appears as a main POV in TLG) and
directly interacting with her in this
book will be told primarily from a th
limited view.
Comment [C17]: The purpose b
revealing the identity of the soldier
suspenseful reveal later, when his id
inexplicably important.
Comment [C18]: See Appendix
development notes on Serpentine.
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No! GoddessNo!
Several floors above them, a young man, with narrowed eyes as red as the tongues of f lames, burst through
the splinters of what had been the door, landing atop the stone steps with a violent crash. His long, greasy black hair
flew in front of his eyes. He pushed it back with a jerky swipe of his thin hand. He scanned the stairwell with
murderous intent.
Where are you, Adrianna? Where are you, little maiden killer? Where are you, whore? ! Come out, come
out, wherever you are Sang her young adopted son in h is cracking adolescent voice, Come ou t, little whore
queen, let me kill you now or would you rather I burn this whole city to the ground? He chuckled. Adriannas
lover pushed her faster down the steps, closer towards safety. Nonot just this whole city. The whole city is not
enough. You have caused me so much pain I shall require a more painful price to be satisfied, He hesitated,
listening, attempting to hear her footsteps. Adrianna turned a corner in the stairwell, and the door to sanctuary
appeared, searing her vision with the light of hope. Only a few more steps I will burn this whole country to the
ground! How do you like that, Adrianna?! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT! HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE THE
REASON YOUR PUPS WILL BURN, WOLF QUEEN?! HOW MANY INNOCENTS WILL DIE BECAUSE
YOU REFUSE TO GIVE YOURSELF UP TO ME TO ATTONE FOR YOUR SINS?!
I d idnt hurt you, Dayyan! She wanted to scream, to help him reconcile with his pain of the loss of the
woman he loved. I didnt hurt Sara! I loved that beautiful peasant girl. I wanted you to be with her more than
anythingwhat did Edmund do to you? What did he say? Why do you believe I me of all people, who is in the
same predicament as youWhy would you think I killed the woman you loved?
Adriannas shoe suddenly clipped the corner of the wall and she crashed towards the stone steps. She cried
out in surprise. The soldier lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her protectively as they hit the stairs together
with a great force. They slid down the stone steps, sliding to the base of the door that led to safety. Adrianna heard a
soft thump as her lovers head collided with the reinforced door. He clutched her lovingly close, wincing from the
pain of the fall, just as dazed from the pain of his endless amounts of wounds as she was.
Beside her, the Sapphire Star tumbled to the ground. Adriannas beloved soldier had chosen to drop the
sword in order to protect her. But in choosing to protect her, he had ensured their doom.
As if in slow motion, Adrianna watched the razor sharp blade float gracefully through the air, its sapphire
steel blade edging ever closer to the stone steps. It was beautiful, golden men had killed entire peoples just to ho ld
that swordyet Adrianna realized it was gilded. Fake. A killing machine, clothed in finery befitting a king. This
sword was everything her family had ever embodied, the symbol of their royalty, the only one the Dellatone had
ever possessed. That was when Adrianna realized what this meant. The reflected light of the fire that consumed thecastle consumed the blade, just as the destruction of this war would come to consume her country. After this night,
her beloved country, her beloved people would know peace no more. The blade spiraled through the air, edging
closer to the floor, as it and her entire world descended into darkness.
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The Sapphire Star hit the stone steps with a resounding, thunderous clang, sounding louder than a gong in
the cramped passageway. The sound echoed about, defiling Adr iannas virgin ears. Her heart fell as abso lute despair
gripped her.
Then, with a shrill laugh of demented triumph, floors above, Dayyansthin body lurched down the stairs
with inhuman speed towards the woman he sought to kill. The sound of his heavy boots resounded throughout the
passageway as he thundered ever closer.
Adriannas murky mind slowly fought through the fog of pain. She forced herself to stand, pushing herself
up to one knee. Then, the other. Every muscle in her body screamed with pain, the uncountable number of gashes
that she had amassed from all of her injuries during her plight broke open, staining her already destroyed clothing
with a new, fresh tint of red. Beside her, her lover attempted to stand, before crashing back to the floor. Adrianna
panicked.
Hes hurt worse than I am. Oh, Goddess save us
She gripped him by the shoulder, helping him to his feet. Blood seeped from the new wound on top of his
head, and his normally strong grip felt weak as she tried to lift him up. He mumbled a soft phrase, weakly.
The sounds of Dayyans decent grew louder as he drew closer. Her protector leaned on her in order to
remain standing, as the shuff led towards the door. Adrianna shoved it open with what little strength she had left and
limped through the door with her lover.
No Her protector said quietly, before slipping out of her grip and falling back to his knees. He
staggered back to the stairwell, using what little strength he had left. He reached for the discarded sword, his fingers
outstretched, grasping at air, grasping for what he knew had been the symbol of the soul of her beloved kingdom.
A soul that was now gone, replaced by fire and death. The sword was only metal now, nothing more.
What are you doing?! She cried, tears inadvertently flooding out of her eyes in desperation. She shuffled
toward him, reaching for her lover, grasping the back of his chain mail just as his hands found the pommel of the
sword. She pulled him back towards the safety that the room offered, but he was moving too slow.
A devilish screech assaulted her ears. It was too close, much too close. Adrianna heaved her lover towards
the door with strength she didnt realize she had. He cried out in pain. One step more just one step
DIE! Roared Dayyan as he sprinted around the corner of the staircase with unbelievable speed. He
charged at her, the razor sharp blade of his rapier leveled at her. She shuffled faster, almost back to the threshold.
But she was much too slow.
ONE MORE!
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She tripped over the threshold of the door, falling to the floor. Her protector fell ungracefully beside her.
She whirled about, her brown hair covered in sweat slung in front of her eyes. Dayyan was almost to her. There was
nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. The blade was so close to her face.
Death was a foot away. She couldnt move, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion.
So this is how I die.
She thought of her wonderful soldier. One last time.
And of the secret she never had told him.
Dayyan devilish smile widened, distorting his face.
She screamed.
The heavy reinforced door slammed shut. There was a loud smack as Dayyans razor sharp blade
embedded itself into the door. He screamed in outrage, hammering the door with his fists as he tried to pry his sword
out of the oak. Her protector barred the door shut by slamming the wooden bar into place in the slots behind the
door, his chest heaving with the effort of fighting against the pain of his wounds. He fell to his knees beside her,
letting the royal sword fall to the ground.
We are still alive. She couldnt believe it.
Ignoring the sounds of Dayyans angry screeching outside, she looked toward her lover. He was covered in
blood, his face and skin gashed, his hair matted with sweat and blood, and his shoulder looked as if it had been hurt
from the fall. Everything was painful to him, even breathing. His body was broken, and it was all her fault.
All my fault.
She began to sob. She threw her arms around her soldier and held him tight. He winced at the pressure, yet
pulled her closer, swallowing the pain.
I know I know, he said softly, understanding her unsaid words. With his good arm, he combed his
fingers through her hair lovingly, attempting to calm her down. Addie He began reluctantly,trying to be strong
even though his voice was shaking. We arent safe yet. We cant stay here. That door wont hold him back forever.
We need to go.
Where? There is nowhere, she said in between sobs. She held him tighter, burying her head in his chest,
clutching his hauberk in her hands. Im so scared. She looked up at him with bleary eyes, I cant lose you. Notyou. Not anyone else.
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You? Scared? The soldier forced a laugh , but it came out quashed. No, no, no. My Addie is never
scared. Why, you werent scared when you took on that Great Bear with a s tick, now where you? What about when
you stood in front of the Goddess and everyone and announced you were not going to marry Edmund Vance? He
smiled as he cupped her chin, lifting her head up so their eyes met. Now, thatwas braveyou werent scared then.
Whats a little mother-stepson disagreement when compared with that? He gently pushed her off, and struggled to
his feet, lifting her up to her feet with one arm as easily as one would lift a sack of potatoes. He took her hand, and
started moving forward, guiding her towards some unknown destination.
The sound of Dayyans relentless hacking at the wood door grew louder. Her protector navigated the tightly
packed furniture of the room carefully, heading towards a dimly lit closet. Adrianna had never seen this room
before, for it had never been used by her family. All the furniture was covered in white tablecloths and the fireplace
had never been lit.
Now granted, her soldier continued, trying to keep up his optimisticattitude, The kid has some serious
mental problems that need to be addressed, and a really sharp sword a serious vendetta and a group of
bloodthirsty knuckleheads who all seem hell b ent on hur ting you -but hey, thats nothing I cant handle - I mean,
Ive done this before, havent I?Many times. He paused, turning to smile at her, Ive always saved you, Addie,
He opened the door to the dimly lit closet. He crouched down and pulled back a thin, moth eaten rug , folding it over
itself.
And I always will. Youll be fine. He began tapping at the floorboards, seemingly looking for something.
Adrianna crouched down beside him, examining the floor.
What is he looking for?
The hacking at the door grew to a deafening pitch.
Adrianna looked up. And what about you? I cant lose you
He took her hand, pausing in his search. He looked her in the eyes. Youll never lose me, Addie. Ill
always be yours. Ill always be with you, to the very end. I swear upon my life and my honor, my queen.
Finally, he found what he was looking for. His fingers grasped a small lever that was disguised as a
floorboard. He pulled it sharply. The floor next to Adrianna sprang upwards, revealing a hidden trap door. She
peered into it. Through the hole, the wind howled ominously, and darkness swallowed all that entered its bowels.
This is our way out. I ts the only way out, unfortunately, and its quite an unhealthy drop
Adrianna looked at him fearfully.
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Her soldier sighed, again understanding her silent protest. I know, I know. Believe me, if there was any
other waywell have to go through one at a time. It spits out into the river Valborn far below. From there well
swim to the bank, and then make our way to Volta. We are going to see your cousin, Adrianna
I hate that woman. Shes vile She scowled, sniffing back tears.
Listen! He ordered her, pressing a finger against her lips, urging her to be silent. She may be vile , she
may be vulgarbut shes likely the only one that can offer us safe refuge. So, no arguments! That is where we are
going. He grasped her by the arm, and led her closer to the edge of the trap door, the hole that led into the dark
abyss of the night. Adrianna felt queasy looking into it for she could see no bottom.
I need you to go first, Ill follow so I can make sure the door closes behind you. Wait for me in the Silent
Gardens, underneath the tree we first kissed. Ill meet you there in an hour if not, continue on to Volta without me.
Your life is much more important than mine. Youre all the good that is left in this country. We need to make sureyou survive -
I wont! She cried. Her voice failed her. She threw her arms around him again. I cant. I cant leave
without you.
You wont have to. Ill be there in an hour. I swear, Addie. I swear upon my honor.
You promise? You wont do anything reckless-
Suddenly, there was a tremendous crash in the room outside the closet. Metal shrieked as it bent and tore.
Adrianna could hear the devilish laughing again, and her heart stopped.
Dayyans breaking through!
The soldier pushed her towards the brink of the abyss. Adrianna grabbed a hold of him, her feet slipping
along the floorboards, forcing him to stop.
Wait! There is something I need to tell
Quickly, he threw his arms around her one last time, and k issed her longingly, lovingly. That was when she
realized something. She froze so lid.
No. NO! HE WOULDNT!
I know, Addie. I love you, too, He hesitated, looking at her one last time. More than anything. There is
no time! Go!
The secret! I have to tell him- Wait! Thats not
He shoved her into the abyss.
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~ 12 ~
Adrianna fell, reaching for him before she was swallowed by the darkness of the escape tunnel. The last
thing the soldier would ever see of the woman he loved was her tears, which glistened like diamonds in the
moonlight. Tears this time not for fear, but instead for him, for Adrianna had discovered in that instant that her
beloved soldier was not following her.
The hacking had stopped. The soldier knew what that meant in the pit of his stomach. He sighed heavily,
before closing the trap door and pulling the rug back over the floorboards, disguising the fact that there had ever
been anything there except dust.
Im sorry, Addie. Im so, so sorry. But in the end, it looks like I still have the honor of a traitors son. Shit
for honor. You always knew that, but you still believed me. You still loved me, He stood, picking up the Sapphire
Star. Even though you knew - once you thought about itthat there is no way to close the door to that tunnel from
the inside. No way for two people to escape. One would have to die. He pushed open the closet door, and limped
out into the previously vacant room, his legs barely able to support him. He was in no condition to fight.
I always loved you, Addie.
He spoke to her as if she was there.
Forever and Always Until the very end.
Dayyan was waiting for him.
Adrianna cried helplessly as she fell.
LIAR! Youre such a liar! A stupid honorable, heroic liar!
The wind born from her fall tore her tears away as she sobbed. They floated above her weightless as she
left them behind. She fought back a scream as she plummeted, further and further down into the darkness.
I love you too. More than you will ever realize. But that wasnt what I was going to tell you.
Adrianna was blinded by moonlight, as she was spit out of the tunnel and into the light of the night. She
could see the flames that consumed her castle, and her kingdom. But she was numb. She could feel no more.
Everything she had ever wanted, everyone that she had ever loved was gone. All she could think of was the secret,
the secret she never told him. She found no greater sorrow than knowing that he never had known her greatesthappiness.
Happiness that should have been theirs together.
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~ 13 ~
Inside her womb, his daughter kicked.
The murky waters of the great river Valborn swallowed her whole, as she and her baby disappeared without
a trace.
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~ 14 ~
Mise en Abyme 2: A Lesson in HistoryAtticus
In which some of the past is explained
WaitWhat happened? What happened to the baby?
Hugo hesitated, before continuing. Ill get to that. Before the night of the Fall of the Dellatone, when fire
consumed all that was known, life in Greater Albainia had progressed in an age old routine. The seasons had always
turned, while old women watched as their beloved children grew older. Farmers worked in their fields upon the
fertile ground of the heartland outside their well-kept homes - which Im sure,smelled of warm apple buttered bread
baked for dinner just as they do today. Mhm.. warm apple butter -Now Im hungry
Atticus giggled. Story now, food later. Fatty-patty.
This isnt a story its history! Sputtered Hugo, far more insulted at Atticuss misnomer than being called
fat. Anyway, Life was pleasantmany lived in the haziness of contentment, stepping lightly atop the sleepy years
of their life, leaving no more of a lasting impression upon the history of this world than their feet did across the soft
grass of the plains of their home. The sun rose and the moon set, crops were planted and harvested, and yet nothing
ever changed. Babies were born, married, and buried, yet still nothing ever changed. The wrongs committed were
still wrongs, yet no one was indisposed enough to care, so nothing ever changed. The families that ruled remained
the families that ruled, and the families that served continued to serve. Nothing ever changed. Nothing ever burned.
By fire and flame, by sword thrust and strike, shattered the glistening glass of peace upon the plains.
Greater Albainia drowned in the gore of its people, as they tore themselves apart. In a single night, the man who
would come to be known later as the Murderer King, Dayyan Vance, took power, usurping the good Queen
Adrianna the one they call in song the Wolf Queen for her boundless mothering love of her subjects by
massacring her and her household. The group of lords that supported him, dubbed Serpentine for their serpent flag,
crowned the nineteen year old boy king the next day. This new government told the people of the Kingdom of
Albainia that they had ousted a tyrant, and that they had their best interests at heart.
Well, did they?
That depends on who you term as the Albainian people. The nobility prospered under the Murderer King,
and achieved more power than they ever had before. The peasantry, however, suffered greatly under his rule. King
Dayyan and his council sought to remake the Kingdom of Albainia anew. This new kingdom would come to be
called the Empire.
Why rename it? Atticus asked, confused. That seems rather unnecessary.
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~ 15 ~
They would call it the Empire because King Dayyan and his cohorts sought to expand the lands of the
former Kingdom of Albainia in order to form a country powerful enough to contend with the great empires of the
Continentlike the Empire of Xianshin and the Uttamabad Caliphate. Also, they wanted to establish Albainia as the
most powerful trading center in Northern Albionya, powerful enough to someday overtake the Sumerianian
Conglomerate in terms of economic power, and to one day dominate the trade in the Barren Ocean. They wanted to
create an Empire that had the power to control the world, but in order to do so King Dayyan Emperor Dayyan
would need to first control his own p eople.
The day after the Fall of the Dellatone was the day that the Great Civil War began. The Great Houses of
Albainia were splitsome were outraged by the sudden violent overthrow of the Dellatone and grab for power by
the lesser Houses, while some were intrigued by the notion of newfound power and wealth. That day, the Great
House Amorie of Volta, the Great House Katrione of Oberion, the Great House Mackinaw of Wite, the Great House
Malori of Nadal, as well as many other lesser houses split away from the newly formed Empire, creating theLoyalistsor the Rebellion if you want to use the term the Empire used
Wait but no House Morgan?
What do you mean, no House Morgan? Asked Hugo, smiling. The old man had a feeling he knew what
the boy was asking.
Did House Morgan side with the Loyalists?
No.
But that makes no sense, sputtered Atticus, thrown. They are the second most powerful Great House
second only to the Dellatone. They were the servants and protectors of the Royal family for generations, and even
intermarried with the Dellatone. Why did they side with the Empire? His voicefaded away.
It makes perfect sense when you think about it. Hugo replied cryptically , shrugging, a smile spreading
slowly across his face. He paused dramatically, allowing for the boy to consider the quandary he had proposed.
Atticus looked as if he had been slapped. Annoyed, the boys eyes narrowed as he waited for the old man to
slowly reveal the information.
The Loyalists flew the standard of the golden dragon atop the crimson saltire and azure field the
standard of the Royal Dellatone family, and said they would only serve the rightful heir to the throne. They sought
to continue Queen Adriannas legacy and fought for the equality of all people, including the commonfolk, even if it
meant sacrificing Albainias chance to become a world power. It was they who first called Dayyan the Murderer
King.
But if Queen Adrianna is dead then who is the rightful heir?
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~ 18 ~
For the sound of Death was the breath of man.
He knew this to be an absolute truth, for his hands were still sticky with the blood of the people he had
slain. He felt their pain as his own, knowing what it meant to have loved ones wrenched away, only to watch
helplessly as their lives were stolen away, while unable to act, unwilling to move.
I will stop this war. I created it. I will end it. Because only I can.
He could feel the eyes of the dead upon him, scrutinizing his every action. In his mind s eye, he saw his
parents who were both long since gone, torn away by the wiles of the war.
His mother, Tylanna, was even more beautiful in death than she had ever been in life. She seemed to smile
at him sadly, her paralyzed form unable to move from the chair upon which she sat. Her silvery blonde hair that had
been so very like his own breezed about her slight frame, as it had so often in life.
In the picture he had created in his mind, his father stood strong beside her, golden-haired, confident and
boisterous. His father looked the p icture of perfection - powerful and strong in the shining dress armor he had
always worn in the military parades of the capital city of Anncantale. He was the picture of the perfect hero.
The sable cloaked man smirked at the saccharine view he had developed of his father. It was strange how,
with his death, he had concocted this false image instead of remembering the mans sins. It was as if he had
unknowingly reconciled with his father with his death. He smirked at that.
Only death can atone for some sins
In truth, his father had never stood by his mother after she had become paralyzed by the plague. No,
Tannanor had sought love elsewherebut his mother never protested, for she had been too ashamed of her physicalcondition, too ashamed that she could not bring them the large family they had always wanted. She never told her
husband of the depression she had felt every time he had left, but the sable cloaked man knew, for he had always
heard her.
He knew how she would send her servants away, shut herself in an empty room of their mansion, and sob
in silence. Alone.
She was not upset with being paralyzed.
No she was lamenting because of some cruel jape of fate, she was no longer enough for the man she
loved, and never would be again.
That knowledge tore at her, ate at her until the day she had died. There was nothing her beloved son could
do, except watch as she became a ghostly shell of the woman who had once been his wonderful mother.
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In his mind, Tannanor laughed that booming laugh the sable cloaked man had learned to dread in life, for it
was the sound that meant the beatings were coming.
When the sable cloaked man had been just a babe, his father had the most respected man in all of Albainia.
The silver falcon that was their house sigil flew higher than all except for that of golden dragon of the Dellatone.
The sable cloaked mansgrandmother had been the queen preceding AdriannaQueen Camillaand his father was
King Tristians Marshal. Tannanor had been a great man, an honorable man. But that all changed.
Tannanor began to change with the Serpentine Rebellion. When the Voltinian lords rebelled on the Night of
Long Knives, Tannanor mustered all of the Kings soldiers and marched south. It was supposed to have been a short
offensive. It was supposed to have been over within the month.
The campaign lasted over ten years.
Ten years of quashing guerrillas. Blood upon blood upon blood. Constant battles unlike any Tannanor had
ever seen, battles without honor, without rules, without end.
It was death without meaning.
Murder without conscience.
Their task.
Their job.
Their duty.
For so many years.
When the rebellion had finally ended, when Princess Adrianna was forcibly wed to the Voltinian Lord
Edmund Vance in order to cement the peace, Tannanor had come back home a different man.
Gone was the man they respected.
Gone was the good man.
Gone was the man they had loved.
And he was replaced by an abusive drunkard, who had decided life was worth little. Not just his life, but
also the life of h is family.
The whole world thought that Tannanor was still the man he had always been.
But the sable cloaked man had known what he really had become.
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~ 21 ~
He leaned over the large table in front of him one last time. Upon it stretched an expansive map of the
surrounding territory labeled down to the smallest detail. He knew every knoll, every rock, every molecule of the
area. His scouts had assured of that, and his informants had ensured that there would be no surprises. He had
planned for everything, even the slight wave of the plains grass in the breeze. The strategy was perfect. Risky, but
perfect.
The Bilrost Bridge.
Since the Fall of the Dellatone, the Loyalists had held the most strategically important location upon the
plainsthe Bilrost Bridge. The small fortress was un imposing, but that was deceiving, for what it guarded was more
precious than gold. The Bilrost Bridge was the only way to safely cross the mighty Talis River. It was the lifeline of
the plains, the airway of trade an airway that had been blocked for seven straight years. If the sable cloaked man
failed to dislodge the Loyalist forces from the bridge, the body of the Empire was sure to die, suffocated of all funds
and food. Already it had begun to atrophy, consumed by plague and famine.
I wont allow it to die. Not my country, my people.
And that meant his first task as Marshal was to attack the Loyalists at their core. For the past seven years,
neither the Loyalists nor the Empire had gained the advantage in the war. The Empire had larger numbers, more
money, and a more advantageous position at the center of the continent. By all rights, by all logic, they should be
winning.
But they werent.
Its because we have never had a commander as capable as the commanders of the Loyalist forces. They
are the best military men this country has ever seen.
He knew, for he had known them his whole life. He knew them as much as he knew himself. He had grown
up with them, loved them, looked up to them, and had learned from them. They had taught him everything.
They had been his fathers men.Tannanors commanders.His family.
And they were the enemy.
The chess pieces upon the map seemed to smile up at him in the dim light of the tent. The sable cloaked
man had used them to denote the forces that were a part of the plan. A single stalwart white knight stood strong
amidst the sea of black. The black of the Empire, the black of Dayyan Vancess house.
Its time. He thought sadly.
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He undid the sable cloaks clasp from around his throat,and folded it neatly upon the table. Underneath, he
wore scared black armor, armor that had seen more than its fair share of use. It was utilitarian. Functional. He
needed none of the frivolous fashion that many men wore upon their plates.
In his hand, he clutched his helmet. It was unlike most helmets that men wore to battle. Their helmets were
faceless, indiscernible from the helmets of the men next to them. They were cowards helmets, helmets that a llowed
for a man to commit sin without reproach, for he had no identity. A faceless man is not a man. A faceless mans
helmet held no burden. No opportunity for justice for the fallen, for the man who wore it took no responsibility for
his actions, for his murder.
The Marshals helmet had a face. It was grotesque, the true face of a transgressor. It was the face of a man
who knew the wrong of his actions yet still did them. He was obligated to, honor bound to serve, honor bound to
kill.
Honor bound to die when the time came to pay for his mistakes.
Only death can atone for some sins.
He had a face in which to take the blame. To take the hate. To take the responsibility for the death, the
destruction, and the war that he had caused with his choices long, long ago.
The Demon moved his black knight - h is forces - to the Bilrost Bridge.
The stalwart white knight shook, and then fell with a deafening crash.
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~ 24 ~
Stop squirmi-
LET ME GO! LET ME-
Leyawin seized her by her flaming mass of red curls. Aiasha shrieked in pain. She attempted to pry his
fingers off of her, but he refused to yield. The warhorse they rode together galloped on, surging ever forward, whilst
growing increasingly erratic in fear.
LET ME GO YOU STUPIDBARBARIAN! WE CANT LEAVE THEM BEHIND! WE CANT! WE
WE CANAND WE WILL! Roared her best friend, silencing her. She stopped squirming and stared at
him, bewildered. He, the shy, meek little boy, had never spoken to her like that before.
After a moment he released her hair, and returned both hands to the quivering reins.
Leyawins horse leapt over a low-lying log without faltering. The horse heaved, forcing itself forward
through the forest far faster than was safe.
Leyawin didnt look at thelittle girl he held safely in his arms. He couldnt, for if he did, he would falter.
His gaze was fixed forward. Towards freedom. Towards safety. Towards life.
Everything was in his hands now.
The Loyalists Rebellion.
Aiashas life.
The information that would change the war.
His voice could save them. The absence of it would undoubtedly destroy them.
He had become infinitely powerful yet infinitely vulnerable. The savior and the destroyer. The hero and the
coward, running from the battle to win the war, even as he told himself the war could not be won.
In that moment, the ten year old boy had aged far beyond his years. He turned his heels into the horse,
urging it forward. He steadied himself atop his saddle. The end to the forest was approaching qu ickly. He could see
the soft gray light of the world filtering in through the leaves of the sparse foliage of the forestsedge. The rain came
down in a thick torrent out upon the plain where there was no shelter from the trees. He was almost there.
He knew that out there he would have no protection from the Empires archers. There was safety in the
forest. There was only death upon the plains.
Yet, he had to make it to the base of Shamistian Mountains, to the Loyalist stronghold of Llan at the center
of the Kerrigan Wall. And that meant passing through the plains.
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He had to tell them that the leader of the Loyalists - the Great Lion of Oberion - Lord Adin Katrione had
lost.
So he rode on, clutching a cargo more precious than gold.
Aiasha gripped his soaked shirt. She blinked, squeezing her hazel eyes shut, as they blurred. She squinted
back towards the bridge. Towards her father and the Demon.
Towards death.
We have to go back we have to go get papawhy wont you listen to me-
Leyawin snorted, forcing himself through the terror he felt. He would not permit his voice to quiver. He
would not permit himself to shake. He would remain strong, stalwart, unyielding and brave. Just like his hero. Just
like Lord Adin. We barbariansdont listen to little lordling girls, He joked. Then his voice grew soft, barely
audible over the roar of the tempest. Lord Adin is dead, Aiasha. Your father isgone.He has lost the bridge.
NO! He didnt he couldnt he never -
But he did.You saw it. I saw it. Hesgone, Aiasha. Gone.Leyawins voice was so soft, so sad.
Aiasha was silent.
She didnt blink. She didnt breathe.
Then, the impossible happened.
Aiasha began to cry.
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~ 26 ~
3 The Lordly LionThe Sable Cloaked Man
In which he walks into the arms of his kin, now as their deadly foe.
The rain fell down.
The sun had been kidnapped by the clouds on its way to its golden throne. The bloody gold of its struggle
against its captors stained the overcast sky. Fog slipped across the landscape, swallowing the Bilrost Bridge inside
its cavernous belly, biting at the plains with its voracious fangs. The virgin beauty of the morning had been
conquered, replaced by the soiled tempest of the wrath of naturethe eternal hag.
Scowling at the rain, Lord Adin made his rounds about the for tress as he always did at exactly midmorning.
He clutched his wolf pelt cloak tight about him, fighting against the whipping wind. His leather boots slipped across
the smooth white stone of the plains as he pressed forward, urging him back to the safety of the central keep.
He should have heeded the winds warning.
My Lord! Shouted Sir Vladamir, the Captain of the House Katrione guard , in order to be heard over the
wind as he gave his morning report, Our scouts have not reported anything out of the ordinary from the dawn
patrol. Neither did the dusk or midnight patrol. We cannot find any trace of the enemy you speak of. SireI believe
that your hunch may have just been thata hunch.
They are here. I know it. I can feel it.
But where, sir? No one can mobilize a force capable of moving that fast.
There was one who could. But he is gone now, Goddess bless his soul. Never say never, Vladamir, Lord
Adin clapped his grizzled captain upon the arm, For then you permit it to be done. Mobilize the men, I want the
battlements fully manned before midmeal.
Sir Vladamir hesitated. My Lord, if I may
You may not -but you are going to do it anyway, so please, do continue.
Sir Vladamir smiled at that, The men have been mobilizing for every hunch you have, they are tired, cold,
hungry, and depressed. They need rest, or they will not be capable of protecting this fortress when the time really
does come. You say the enemy is coming, yet we do not truly know that. We have no evidence of their approach.
The men need to rest, and now is as good a time as any.
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Lord Adin frowned. He trusted his captains opinion and weighed it in his mind. He knew that Sir Vladamir
was right. The men should rest.
But in his heart he sensed something wrong.
He sighed.
Im getting old. Maybe my sense isnt as good as it once was. Maybe I am wrong.
Iunderstand. I will take a turn about the battlements to see for myself. If I find them wanting of rest, then I
shall let some of them restbut only some. They will rest in shifts so the wall will not be undefended.
Thank you, my lord. The men will take heart at that.
Lord Adin strode towards the sheer stone stairs leading to the wall of the fortress, fighting against the
constant wail of the wind, Sir Vladamir following close at heel.
Dont thank me yet my gut still tells me an enemy is approaching, and my gut is rarely ever wrong.
The rain had made the white stone underfoot slick, but Lord Adin was not fazed. Soon his tall figure was
striding across the battlements, towards the first of the men watching upon the walls. From this vantage point, the
Loyalists could usually see the whole of their surroundings, but not today. Today the fog cloaked the whole of the
plain, stopping just short of the bridge.
They were blind.
And Lord Adin knew it.
The rain and wind began to let up. The howling of the great beast of the storm had descended into a
whimper, and the rain transformed into a misting spit. The first soldier straightened from his crouch as Lord Adin
approached, where he had been cowed into a ball by the wrath of the storm, with only the thin layer of cloth that was
his cloak clutched close to protect him from the onslaught. He clapped his shivering fist across his heart in salute to
his liege, bowing his half frozen head in respect.
For family. For freedom, Began Lord Adin in greeting.
For the lost queen and all the hope she gave us, my lord, answered theyoung soldier dutifully, his voice
quivering from the cold of his wet clothes. Lord Adin smiled at that, proud of the resolve of the teenager. He
clapped the young soldier upon the shoulder with a bearlike hand.
Lord Adin noted the mans shivering. He took off his own cloak and wrapped it around the shoulders of the
young soldier.
I see what my captain means about my men
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Vladamir, get this good man some hot soup and wine from the kitchens.
The young soldiers face brightened.
Thank you Lord Adin! Thank you, Goddess b less you.
Lord Adin chuckled at that, and began to talk with the young soldier. A few minutes passed, and his captain
returned with a bowl of steaming broth, a hunk of bread and a skin full of warm spiced wine.
And this girl the one you want to marry when this war is over what was her name again? Lord Adin
asked, making conversation.
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~ 30 ~
Extraneous Typed Drafts Dated 08/201303/2014
For more refer to past editions of the Liars Game and to notebook.
King Dayyan always was white. Every single time he played chess - without fail - he chose the color of
new snow. Pure white, the innocent, unsullied color. The maiden color. He had played as the white king ever since
he had been a small, squalling boy. He had always fancied himself the hero, the one who was always charging off
into battle without any thought to the consequences, acting upon instinct and passion and nothing else.
He never chose black, the color of darkness. For he was incapable of wrong, and black was the color of the
sin. For he was the perfect king.
Or so he thought.
Your move. The King announced, bored, to his taciturn companion. The King draped his body lazily
over his fine chair, leaning his cheek heavily upon his hand as he examined the beautifully unique chessboard. His
greasy black hair hung in front of his face obscuring his violet eyes. Voltinian eyes. Eyes of the cursed race of the
Summer Sea.
Not that his race mattered now, no, not with the crown of the Dellatone sitting upon his head. The stain of
the blood of their house upon his hands had long since been erased, replaced by a smug sense of accomplishment.
His friend shared none of his happiness. The man felt only sorrow for the ones lost in their pursuit of
freedom. The red of their blood would always leave his hands sticky.
My move.
Had it not been for the Kings fine robes of blood red and gold velvet, his companion would have been the
more remarkable of the two. The young man was every bit as utilitarian as the King was frivolous, and every bit as
respectful as the King was flippant.
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~ 31 ~
2 Undying LoyaltiesTitiania Penna
In which a titian is called to serve
Tis bad luck brining a woman to battle, it is.
I thoughtit was just bad luck bringing a woman onto a ship. Is it bad luck bringing them to battle too? the
younger, more innocent man asked, confused. He stared abashedly, blushing slightly, as if he had never seen a
beautiful woman before.
Aye. The worst kind of bad luck. The kind of bad luck that makes your insides become your outsides very
quickly. The kind of bad luck we dont need. The kind of luck we cant afford anymore. The gruff older mancontinued as he glared at the strange newcomer, darkly. He was a giant of a man, towering over his companion. His
plate armor clanked together as he shifted so he could see around his colossal warhorse. He didnt realize that the
woman was hearing the whole of their conversation. The Goddess may have been a warrior woman back in the Age
of Beginning but even she said that women belong as wives in the house. What is that Marshal thinking, bringing
one of thosewoman here, now?
Shick. Shick.The dainty woman pushed the sharpening stone across her blade, pretending as if she could
not hear the men gawking at her. Her ink-black, thick bangs hung like a sheet rebelliously in front of her amethyst
eyeseyes that were beautiful yet devoid of any warmth. The thin woman frowned in concentration, attempting to
focus upon her work, yet their gawking was grating upon her nerves.
Ignore them. Just ignore them. They will grow bored soon enough.
In truth, their teasing did not bother her as it once had. These men were from a different culture from her,
and she had come to understand them even though they would never come to understand her. Long ago, she had
been as ignorant as them. But then she had been shown the way by the same man that had brought her to this
hellhole. Her lifelong best friend. The only true friend she had ever had.
Look at her eyes, the younger one said quietly, not unkindly, thinking himself to be too quiet to be heard.
He was intrigued. Her eyes are purple.
Yes. Shes one of those folk. One of those Voltinian women, that strange kingdom to the south where
everything is backwards. They should have died out long ago, the big one scoffed incredulously. He looked down
his nose at her.
Ignore them. Their opinion matters not.
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Shick. Shick. Went the stone across her blade. Her pace quickened, as she funneled her irritation into her
work.
You know, I think shes rather pretty, the younger one said quietly. The big one started, surprised. The
warrior woman blushed, and she attempted to focus harder upon h er work, seeking to ignore their conversation.
Shick. Shick. Shick. Shick.
It wasnt working. Her cheeks were burning with warmth. She prayed that the men could not see her, so
they would not call her soft.
Thats one I havent heard.
The giant laughed at the younger mans folly, then shrugged uncaringly. I suppose so. If youre into that
sort of woman.The bigger one seemed to look at her differently, although he still disliked her at first sight. He
crossed his arms in front of his chest haughtily, the scared plate armor of his gauntlets clanking together. The tiny
woman glanced over at him, attempting to hide her gaze underneath a sheaf of thick black hair. Neither of the men
appeared to notice.
They arent the most observantof men...and these are the section commanders Morgan has to win this war
with wonderful
Upon the giant mans chest plate was a large, sprawling oak tree painted in black, its lofty high branches
reaching towards the heavens, unbound and indomitable. Just like the man who bore it.
The bigger one must be the one called Blackwood. Paul, I think. The Knight of Two. From Balta. The
Marshal told me about him. The other
The younger man seemed to share none of Blackwoods arrogance. He was confident, secure in his stature,
but she sensed from the way he talked to his companion that he was more reserved than the other. He was slender,
athletic, and had ink black hairhair like hershowever his eyes were different, being dark brown in color. Plain
Albainian brown.
A pity. He almost could be taken for Voltinian . It would have been nice to know another of my people here.
He did not seem as rich as his companion, for he wore only plain chain mail that was scared from many
battles and close escapes. His coat of arms was strange, a fantastic beast she had never seen before.
That must be an Enfield, I think. Morgan said that would be the only one that I would not know, for the
Roarke House was not well known before the Fall. Yet another nameless house that gained their power under King
Dayyan, after their son proved himself in battle. Hes younger than I thought he would be, this Raynor.He seems to
be close to my age.
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The foxlike beast on his chest both intrigued her and repulsed her. The utilitarian woman disliked things
she could not see, things she could not touch. Fantasy was immoral to her, a wasteful use of valuable energy.
What a strange, frivoloussigil
She decided that she did not like the way Sir Roarke looked at her nor his strange fox. I t made her feel as if
she was a caged animal, kept alive only for the novel reason of being exotic. She could not understand why they
thought her to be so different.
Shick. Shick. Shick.
Went the sharpening stone against her black and white blade. She pressed harder against it, channeling her
irritation into the blade. If only the people around her were as black and white as Durandal, then, and only then
Titiania might have grown to like a few of them.
After a while, they seemed to grow disinterested, and turned away. Blackwood smoothed down his short
and scruffy beard before adjusting his sword belt. The younger one had no beard to smooth. They walked further
into the
How long do you think this Marshal will last? asked Blackwood darkly to his younger companion as they
sauntered away. The woman stiffened abruptly.
Roarke shrugged. Are we taking bets? He asked disjointedly, his voice revealing just how hopeless he
was. It doesnt matter. Hell be dead soon enough. And well be no closer to winning this war than we were before.
Well just push forward, and Ill lose more men.
Aye. Maybe the King should just end this war right now.
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~ 34 ~