Tears of Min Brock (Epic YA Fantasy)
Gundin did not remember how he got to the middle of Hetherlinn. Nor did he recall Quinn yanking him from cottage Number 7 or how they made their way past screaming women and terrified children. Even the thundering hooves of their enemy entering Hetherlinn did not stir him from his delusions.
It was no wonder that he stared glassy-eyed at the Ebonite cavalry that encircled the villagers. Wihin his mind, he was back in the Dark War, leading a charge of men toward an Ebonite stronghold. This dissolved into a vignette in which he sat with his men around a campfire sharing pipes and stories.
Amidst his fantasy, he felt the ground shake. He tried to make sense of it, but could not, for the rumbling was coming from somewhere beyond his illusions.
The ground shook again followed by what sounded like a thunderclap. The foreign effects became shards of recall that pierced his fantasyworld like lances.
He battled to discern fact from myth, truth from fantasy. He fought to regain control of his thoughts and center them once again in reality, something he had not done since the Dark War.
As if awakening from a dream, he found that he was with the other villagers near the fire. Some were ghostly pale, others wept, but he had no idea why.
Gundin continued to piece his strange experience together, trying to make sense of the earthquake and thunder. Memories flashed like lightning, and within the heat of its light, he remembed the March of Reeds shaking the ground followed by the Ebonite cavalry thundering out of Hetherlinn.
A man moaned. A quick glance at the ground revealed Quinn wounded.