Wastelakapi…Beloved
By Mark Wildyr
“We wither like weeds before flames.
Oppressors herd us to far patches of barren ground.
Drums fall silent in misery.
Flutes become forlorn.”
—From the poem “Echoes of the Flute” by Mark Wildyr
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
