The Banished Craft
Author: E.D.E. Bell
Book Description:
The Banished Craft is a genre-bending fantasy saga that follows the adventures of Cor, a woman caught in a dying world that does not accept her, and Atesh, a dragon scientist who’s been asked to violate his own ethics or put the lives of his family at risk. Follow their trials as they deal with a shattered world, mired in political upheaval, while they try to rediscover a lost magic. The Banished Craft begins the Shkode trilogy: a quirky and modern take on dragons and wizards, exploring themes of identity, prejudice, violence, compassion, and the ways we are all connected.
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Excerpt
Borso, a young laborer, sits in a bar deciding the course of his life.
Borso took his whiskey straight, as anyone should when they had decisions to make. He tapped the empty glass on the old wooden table, sure the barmaid would notice. This was the oldest tavern in the large, bustling city of Porto Nobile, and they knew how to keep the medicine flowing.
He needed it, and not just because it was another eerie day outside. So many people denied the presence of The Change, but Borso knew that it was real. He had studied and observed the weather his whole life, and things were certainly off. The clouds felt thin, and the storms came at the wrong times, with no warning or signs. The Sea seemed uneasy, as if it were trying to alert people to a problem. People aren’t listening to the Sea anymore, Borso lamented. He knew why, too, and was determined to fix it.
Borso himself felt as uneasy as the Sea. His sick feeling, as he called it, had become more persistent. He would call it despair, but perhaps panic was a better word. There were days when it crawled within him, weighing in his chest and consuming his mind. Sometimes it spoke to him, like a warning. It was a warning he knew he soon must heed.
He unrolled the paper within his hands. A crude sketch of a young woman looked back at him, labeled “Clepsydra i’Murena” across the top. He ran his calloused fingers across the worn edges, careful not to touch the pencilwork. His dear sister, Sydra, was dead.
They had grown up together on a remote island chain known for producing tila cloth, a soft, durable fabric made only from the trees of Seastate. He looked down at his loose green shirt and matching pants, sewn in his traditional native style. It was the only cloth he would wear now, a symbol of his origins, of his separation from the tyrants who sought to conquer them.
“They won’t have us,” he vowed to the sketch, as the waitress brought him another shot.
He usually left the picture hidden in his apartment. But today, with the ache inside of him so strong, he wanted to see it. She would guide him. There was no one else he trusted.
“Sydra, are you worth dying for?” Borso picked up the small glass and drank it in one large gulp. She didn’t answer. “What about killing?” he whispered.
Borso took his whiskey straight, as anyone should when they had decisions to make. He tapped the empty glass on the old wooden table, sure the barmaid would notice. This was the oldest tavern in the large, bustling city of Porto Nobile, and they knew how to keep the medicine flowing.
He needed it, and not just because it was another eerie day outside. So many people denied the presence of The Change, but Borso knew that it was real. He had studied and observed the weather his whole life, and things were certainly off. The clouds felt thin, and the storms came at the wrong times, with no warning or signs. The Sea seemed uneasy, as if it were trying to alert people to a problem. People aren’t listening to the Sea anymore, Borso lamented. He knew why, too, and was determined to fix it.
Borso himself felt as uneasy as the Sea. His sick feeling, as he called it, had become more persistent. He would call it despair, but perhaps panic was a better word. There were days when it crawled within him, weighing in his chest and consuming his mind. Sometimes it spoke to him, like a warning. It was a warning he knew he soon must heed.
He unrolled the paper within his hands. A crude sketch of a young woman looked back at him, labeled “Clepsydra i’Murena” across the top. He ran his calloused fingers across the worn edges, careful not to touch the pencilwork. His dear sister, Sydra, was dead.
They had grown up together on a remote island chain known for producing tila cloth, a soft, durable fabric made only from the trees of Seastate. He looked down at his loose green shirt and matching pants, sewn in his traditional native style. It was the only cloth he would wear now, a symbol of his origins, of his separation from the tyrants who sought to conquer them.
“They won’t have us,” he vowed to the sketch, as the waitress brought him another shot.
He usually left the picture hidden in his apartment. But today, with the ache inside of him so strong, he wanted to see it. She would guide him. There was no one else he trusted.
“Sydra, are you worth dying for?” Borso picked up the small glass and drank it in one large gulp. She didn’t answer. “What about killing?” he whispered.
About the Author
Author E.D.E. Bell is a graduate of the University of Michigan with an MSE in Electrical Engineering, and works as an advisor in technical intelligence. A vegan and enthusiastic ignorer of gender rules, she feels strongly about issues related to human equality and animal compassion. Married with three children, she decided to pursue her dream of writing and is excited to share that vision with fans of epic fantasy.
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interesting book.
ReplyDeleteThis looks like cool series. I like that isat ys it's genre-bending in the blurb.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for hosting a tour stop!
ReplyDeleteLooks like a series I could dive in to!
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the Excerpt
ReplyDelete