I am empty and torn,
sad and forlorn,
I do not understand why.

I should be happy for you,
with all you’ve been through,
so why is it so hard to try?

I thought I’d be there,
to help and to care,
not miles from your side.

I thought God was clear,
and my intentions sincere,
but I almost feel like He lied.

I know it’s not true,
cause that’s not what You do,
and there’s always a purpose and plan.

But at times I don’t know,
if I am to go,
or remain here where I stand.

It had been hours. A doctor had been summoned, Grandfather was rushed into one of the rooms of the estate, and the party was disbanded. Ettore had waited long enough outside the room in which the doctor was with Grandfather. He sat at the bedside and he observed how sick the man who raised him was. The doctor said his heart had stopped, but somehow, Ettore’s thoughtless reasoning kept him alive a little longer.
The room was silent and dark.

This chapter has no definite name. Since this novel is structured for later publication, I'd prefer a chapter name. If any of you have suggestions after reading it I'd love that!

Florence (Firenze), region of Tuscany, Italy
December, 1490

Sioned was growing tired of the life she had chosen.

Four years had passed.
He had seen the trees change from white to green to red to black and all over again four times. He couldn’t believe how long it had been since the day the Yīnyǐng had separated them all. He had seen the change of what parts of the world they had travelled together, thoroughly worried by it all. Things changed so drastically wherever they turned that he was sure he woke up in a different world every morning.

Aloysius, Cahir, and Iolo stood under the shade of the grape arbors in the garden, having not much more use. Boniface and Ignatius took the north side of the keep, and so far, the captain was just waiting for the mission to be over. He had something pressing left in Baric-Tref, one of those things that you couldn't take your eye off for very long. It was that important.
“The sun’s going to sleep,” yawned Cahir. “Captain? May we request retirement?”
Aloysius scoffed. “Never been on night duty, aye, Cahir?”
The boy indignantly shrugged. “Jist, tired, y’know.”

The leader of the Dusks knew it would be easy to cause havoc in the paradisal scene, and that finding the Al-Izz boy would take no effort. Ten thousand rubies for a job well done.
The Yīnyǐng did nothing else better than an attack.
“Toula,” the leader said, his voice a maelstrom. “Over here.”
The Yīnyǐng turned and approached and pulled back her hood. Toula’s wavy black hair tumbled down her back and she stood at attention before Tai. “Yes, Father?” she said.

The wraiths took to the walls, melting with the shadows of the obsidian. They moved with the grain of the stone, with no one’s noticing them. They were clothed in what seemed to be shadow, as well. The soft black fabric of their suits had no seam, and their contrast with the walls was non-existent as they expertly and silently scaled the thick barricade that stood between them and their targets.
After all, the Yīnyǐng were known to be silent and invisible.

Wynne made it to the barracks of the keep. Warrior women jogged to and from the extensive and solid establishment. Marching girls with blonde braids swaying on their backs passed by her, their blue eyes gazing on her. They whispered behind their small, pale hands in the lilting yet hard language of Skuld. Wynne smiled and nodded to the squadron, who smirked shyly and went on their way.
She knocked on the barrack door, and a lady dressed in a soft buckskin tunic and palla answered.
“Úda’lugha?” she asked plainly.
“Gwceff,” answered Wynne as she entered.