Today I have a book tour post for ya!
But first watch the trailer!
Road of a Warrior (The Silvan Book II)
by R.K. Lander
Genre: YA Epic Fantasy
Release Date: April 28th 2018
A light in the forest, a king returned, a past to claim …
Fel’annár is an immortal half-blood warrior from the Deep Forest, an orphan whose questions
were never answered. With a dream of becoming a Silvan captain in an army ruled by the Alpine
elves, he is sent to protect a prince of the realm on a journey to Tar’eastór, land of the mighty
Alpine elves and of Fel’annár’s own father – whoever he was.
His nascent power will continue to evolve as his shrouded past finally surfaces. The truth he
never thought to hear will thrust him onto a path strewn with political intrigue, discrimination,
danger and self-discovery.
Meanwhile, a failing king will rise from the ashes of grief and reclaim his place as leader of the
Great Forest. Warriors will battle the enemy on the borders, while at court, councillors will clash
over the racial divide that is pulling them apart.
They say that civil war is coming, but one warrior can avoid it – if he can embrace his past, control his powers and accept the role he is destined to play.
From warrior to master and beyond, Fel’annár is The Silvan who can restore peace in the Great Forest, or cast it into eternal chaos.
Buy on Amazon! http://a.co/7wUuSsL
Path of a Novice (The Silvan Book I) on Goodreads
Once, he had been right pleasing to the eye, or so his Mavey had often said. That was
before they had ventured to Valley and had become immortal.
He’d been lured by stories of beautiful, shining faces that stood behind the Veil.
Paradise was there, they said, a hand’s breadth away; why could mortals not pass and
enjoy eternal life? He had all but forgotten the other tales, those the elves told of death
He hadn’t believed them, still didn’t.
But what did it matter? What good were his memories now that he was immortal?
That much he had achieved, and yet he had not passed into the Source for the dark elves
had chased him away. That was when the slow, implacable curse of mortality had
begun, for although his spirit was immortal, his body was not meant for it. Entropy was
his punishment, cursed to madness as he watched himself fall apart, even his mind.
He shrugged. It no longer mattered; he no longer cared.
They used to call him Rovad, he recalled, but when the rot had started his name was
forgotten, for Deviants cannot speak, not as humans do. He repressed the instinct to
laugh because he couldn’t do that anymore, either; his vocal chords no longer allowed
it. All he could do now was wail. He looked down at his greying right hand, vaguely
wondering when his finger would fall off. But then, what did that really matter—after
all this time? Had he not wanted to be immortal?
Turning, he raised his rusty sword and allowed his cloudy eyes to settle resignedly
on the light ones that ran towards him in the distance. They had doomed him to years of
horror, bitter years of watching as his own body fell away before his very eyes and for
what? To protect the purity of their haven? To keep it from the taint of mortality?
The elves would kill him, perhaps before he could kill any of them, and he could not
say the idea was not attractive. He had lost his name, lost his Mavey. Nothing else really
mattered, and yet, there was one thing he wanted more than death—more than anything
he had ever coveted in his unnaturally long life. He wished to give death to the undying,
sunder their immortality just as they had doomed him to die in horror. He would right
the wrong that was done to the mortals of Bel’arán, for how does one live consciously
under the shadow and surety of death? What twisted deity had made it so?
It was not personal; it was a dying man’s wish to deal justice—one last time.
His lips spread and his rotten teeth felt the cold air. They hurt. He wanted to yell a
battle cry, but all that came out was another keening wail. His last sight was of an angel
that bore down on him, its face impossibly beautiful, blade glinting pure and bright as it
swooped towards him. He hated it, because in those eyes of deep emerald there was
pity, pity for a rotting fool who had dared challenge the cruelty of nature.
He fleetingly wondered if there was a paradise waiting for him somewhere, so that
he could live again, so that all the moments of his life would not be forgotten, not that he really cared anymore.
The cold blade sliced through him. There was no pain, only hatred and relief.
About the Author: I am one of the biggest elf geeks I have ever met. First inspired by the world of Tolkien, I began writing short stories, until the idea of the Silvan popped into my head. That was no short story but a sprawling 900 pages of epic fantasy.
The Silvan is my first publshed work, an epic / military fantasy with paranormal overtones. The
story revolves around the figure of a Silvan elf, Fel’annar. The first in the series, Path of a Novice
was published April 2017 and the second book is due to launch 28th April, 2018. A projected
third book should be available in 2019.
I love connecting with readers, so please pop in and say hello. I’d love to hear your feedback and comments.
Enter the giveaway here: https://www.facebook.com/rklwrites/app/228910107186452/
Blog Tour Organized by: http://yaboundbooktours.blogspot.com/