Ash smoked his favorite tobacco from the southern plantations, listening to the nighttime song of cicadas and crickets. In this world of eternal gloom, the melody might’ve seemed out of place, but still they sang. During his stay in the mountain, he missed these musical crackles and creaks.
Now, eight years after leaving the monastery, he couldn’t forget the evening and morning gong that announced the rise and set of Irmaril.
Ash smiled at the memory, but didn’t dare lie down. Tonight, there would be an eclipse. Night would fall over the thirteen kingdoms, during which neither Myristal nor the moon would shine in the sky. During these nine hours of darkness, the most terrible creatures and monsters would come to visit their world with Helmer, the Lord of Nightmares, marching proudly at
