“The MacBroins have always been a disgrace,” continued the pale boy. “They have always been liars, cowards, and failures. You, though, are the crowning jewel. You’ll always be the pale, sniveling boy waiting for mother to come back.”
“Lorcan, Mimir’s Well is sacred to the men of the North. Drinking its waters gives you wisdom and power beyond mortal reckoning. Even the gods respected and feared the place, and few of them even dared to take a drink.”
Lorcan expected that perhaps they would roll out some long red ribbon for him to walk on, and would play trumpets at his return. But, that would be ridiculous. Long red ribbons were expensive and impractical, and trumpets weren’t to be invented for several centuries.
Shay could clearly see everything. Everything. That was wrong. It couldn’t have been more than midnight, and it was a new moon out. It should have been dark as the deepest sea. She looked down at the blade of her sword. A glowing, flickering orange, reflected back.
Any man or woman, regardless of wealth or background can join the Order of the Rose, provided they are honorable, brave, and have the will to fight the good fight, no matter how difficult or treacherous it is.