into kotaom : a novel by david faylin | [home]
His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Finnolach. HoD Awaits You.
Emperor Finnolach rose over the marbled balustrade on The Neufort’s eastern balcony. Eleven in the morning, and the sun peeled away their skins. His Imperial Majesty The Emperor pedestaled with his aura radiating about him. Even despite his age, his skin was remarkably unlined and his hair of browns and reds blew like torchfire. Every one of those twenty-five thousand holes that he overlooked clamoured for a glimpse of their holy keeper and for the food of confirmation. Yet the Emperor knew they were merely Dolourism’s fervent tip that poked above the mountain cloud, and his sweetest waking thought was: cloud smother the mountain.
[the above is an excerpt from Into Kotaom]
