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Tales of Erana: The Warrior's Curse: Tales of Erana
Tales of Erana: The Warrior's Curse: Tales of Erana
Tales of Erana: The Warrior's Curse: Tales of Erana
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Tales of Erana: The Warrior's Curse: Tales of Erana

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He who bargains with monsters beware! A hero forges an unholy bargain with a witch and learns magic never forgets.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherA L Butcher
Release dateJan 20, 2018
ISBN9781386601777
Tales of Erana: The Warrior's Curse: Tales of Erana
Author

A L Butcher

British-born Alexandra Butcher (a/k/a  A. L. Butcher) is an avid reader and creator of worlds, a poet, and a dreamer, a lover of science, natural history, history, and monkeys. Her prose has been described as ‘dark and gritty’ and her poetry as evocative.  She writes with a sure and sometimes erotic sensibility of things that might have been, never were, but could be.

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    Book preview

    Tales of Erana - A L Butcher

    A short fantasy tale by A. L. Butcher

    A Tales of Erana Novella

    First Edition Published 2014. This edition 2017

    V3.1

    All rights reserved.

    © A. L. Butcher 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017

    The right of A. L. Butcher to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

    The world of Erana and the characters herein are the property of the author. Any similarity to actual persons is purely coincidental.

    Cover art © Dustan Kostic @ Fotolia.com

    With thanks to Joe Bonadonna.

    The world of Erana is a world of contrasts, for magic is forbidden and its practice is punishable by death; yet in this world where bandits are many, the law is harsh and ignorance a political tool, magic persists. Magic does not obey the laws of men, of trolls or even elves. Magic finds its way through hidden blood, through myths and fireside stories, and lurks in caves and ruins long lost in the passing of time. Stories of old are recounted, whispered and often thus forgotten . . . but not by all.

    LEIF SETTLED BY THE campfire, his damp feet warming in the amber glow. Not for the first time did he wish he could afford boots that didn’t leak and actually fitted his feet. He hoped after today he would be able to buy those fine drake leather, fur lined beauties he had seen on the Street of Artisans. As he wiggled his toes and rubbed the blisters covering the soles, he grinned. No longer would he have to beg the baker for stale loaves or wear the cast-off clothes found among the stalls of the Enclave traders. Not that anyone in the Enclave had much to trade, at least nothing which actually belonged to them. Even the poor human quarter was better than the elven Enclave, although these days there were ever more desperate humans and even the odd troll crammed into its nefarious alleys.

    No more would he have to hope his former human masters took pity on him and treated him with kindness, a situation which hadn’t happened often before he’d run away. A man could only take so many beatings before he snapped or fled, and Leif was not a violent person. Perhaps Leif would even have a servant of his own! Of course, as a half-elf, he could own nothing, although he had learned that money could open

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