Books by Honor Raconteur

“I was stopped by a messenger from Blackstone,” Sylvie said simply and held out a folded sheet of paper that had been sealed with black wax, the crest of the main guild of the city impressed into it. “Seems urgent.”
Siobhan broke the seal with a quick twist of her fingers before unfolding the paper. Deepwoods had strong ties to Blackstone, the master guild of Goldschmidt, and often took on minor jobs for them. To be given a message like this wasn’t unusual. To get it this late in the day, however, spoke of impending trouble. She scanned through the letter quickly and unease coiled into a cold lump in her stomach.
“Listen up,” she called to the table, not taking her eyes from the letter. A hush instantly descended. “This came directly from Guildmaster Darrens. His daughter Lirah has gone missing.”
“Missing?!” several people repeated in shock.
“She apparently was going to Sateren to negotiate something for her father but she never got there. He’s verified that she went through Island Pass so she at least got to Wynngaard, but it’s now three days past when she was meant to arrive and there’s no sign of her.” She raised her head and looked around the table, stating what everyone had already guessed. “He’s asked us to go after her.”

The Sleeping Prince(ss) - An Artifactor Short Story
Young Sevana Warren is faced with the daunting mission of rescuing her cursed best friend from the Sleep Princess curse. And while she may be a child prodigy, she is only nine, and the particular consequences of the curse couldn’t be more dire. For death is a certain result if she can’t wake him up.

What are heroes? What defines them? How great or small must their actions be to be perceived as one? Are only the courageous who sacrifice everything lauded as heroes? Or can true heroes be defined by their small, unnoticed actions?

Join Honor Raconteur and her fellow authors as they explore the concept of what it means to be a hero, big and small, and the journeys they embark upon toward that heroism.

Twenty of them finally poured out into the open street. They quickly split up, coming in at a full run that slowed about ten feet away from us. I watched with a cynical eye, as they spread out in a semi-circle, blocking our path. One of them, judging from the red piping in the dusky brown uniform he wore, was the Squad Captain. He advanced a step in front of his men. “We have detected someone with magical abilities. Hand them over immediately, and your lives will be spared.”

Oh please. Spare me the lies. Without any encouragement on my part, Night took a step forward, drawing the captain’s eyes to me. I straightened to my full height, looking down at him coldly. “I am Rhebengarthen, Earth Mage and child of the Jaunten. Who are you to stand in my way?”

He had known this day would come. No man could escape the entire might of the Sovran forever. He just found it humorous that it was an enemy of the Sovran that had caught him instead.

Bound, kneeling before a queen whom he had hounded for a straight year, he should have been anxious. Or at least a little worried. Instead, a strange sense of relief filled him. It was over. His mad escape from Brindisi’s justice was over.

“That is a very calm expression on your face, General Darius Bresalier,” she observed. Her tone was idle, but her eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. “Are you not worried?”

“I knew what the punishment would be, Your Most High Majesty,” he answered respectfully. “I have had a year to resign myself to my fate. I cannot complain.”

She gave a low, musical hum of approval. “Well said. I have heard many reports on what you did but never once did I believe I could have the full tale.” She leaned forward, causing the silk pillows behind her to slide in every direction. “Kingslayer, tell me. Why did you kill your king?”

With an un-cursed prince and king back on the throne, Sevana goes back to her usual routine without worry. But her peaceful days don’t last for long. A hunter from a small northern village comes to her, pleading for help. The people in his village are disappearing during the night, transported great distances in their sleep, and they don’t know why.

Transportation magic such as this hasn’t been seen since the days of great magic, hundreds of years past. On top of that, the power levels that Sevana sees are insanely high—far higher than any modern magic can reach. Sevana drops everything, racing toward the small village of Chastain, praying that she can find the source for all of this and stop it.

Otherwise, the magical backlash might destroy Windamere.

Sevana Warran, reigning prodigy Artifactor of the age, has absolutely no desire to selflessly serve her fellow man. She wants, in fact, to be left alone so that she can putter about in her workroom.

But her efforts in avoiding other people prove to be in vain. The reigning family of Windamere is no longer sitting upon the throne and the Council has instead taken power. The sole hope of avoiding the evil machinations of the Council is Bellomi Dragonmanovich, Prince of Windamere. As a twenty-one year old cursed into the body of a perpetual eight year old, he lacks the power and ability to stop the Council.

Sevana, after a judicious review of the situation, decides that she cannot let things continue. If she did, she’d never be left alone and would instead be buried in paperwork if the Council has anything to say about it. So she kidnaps the prince from where he was locked away in the palace and sets about breaking his curse.

Prince and Artifactor quickly realize that simply breaking the curse won’t be enough to free Windamere from the Council. It will take training, cunning, allies, information and more than just a little magic if they are to reclaim the throne.