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Glory to the Waxing Sun by Cooper Ward Each winter, the People of the green land gather at their henges to mourn the newly dead. And to offer up one life to the god who loves them most, to aid him in his holy war against the darkness and the cold. The Ardring, greatest of the henges, has stood from time immemorial as a symbol of the power of the ruling line. With iron in their fists and fire on their brows they have reigned unchallenged. Divinity made flesh. But now the green land is blanketed in snow, and bloody banners fly above the Ardring. Deep within its black stone bones is a priestess with a thousand thousand eyes. Beneath the dismal winter sky brews a desperate clash that will forever reshape the green land – if it survives at all. |
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