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Read Eleventh Cycle by Kian Ardalan #Fantasy #Grimdark #Gothic

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Eleventh Cycle || sykomuses

Chosen warriors, heed my call...

She woke to the unpleasant feeling of moistened cerulean clothes and water in her ear, realizing she had been sprawled across the ground in the middle of nowhere. When the girl abruptly pulled herself into a sitting position, glistening droplets flew overhead; she would have dubbed them as breathtaking had it not been for her current troubling situation.

"Where...?" She let her auburn gaze wander in the direction of what appeared to be a low pedestal, white, ivory if not made of ceramic instead. The ground was blanketed by ankle-deep water, which would explain why she had been wet all over, and the sky filled with several shades of dull and duller gray.

But then, the more she forced herself to think, the more questions floated to the surface of her mind. Like her name, for instance.

Oh, wait -- Rinoa. My name is Rinoa Heartilly.

At the moment, she felt satisfied with just that, and pushed herself up while ignoring the water trailing annoyingly from her thighs and down to her knees. Her gaze fell to her arm when she sensed something heavy pulling it down; something round, and seemingly sharp. Rinoa fiddled with the mechanisms and discovered that she knew exactly how to work the thing. It was a weapon. But why would she need a weapon here?