Xerell's fist crashed against the surface of the council table jarring Semylyn to her core. He was so much like his son, and she knew his bristling hostility originated more from anguish than from actual anger.

Omree emphasized his next words. "Time has run out. The Prime is faltering. We need to secure the chosen ones in the safety of Sitnalta."

Xerell leaned over the edge of the council table in Omree's direction. His right hand lay clenched on the table, his lips drawn tight in fierce opposition.

Semylyn felt sick. She didn't want to be here, hearing the men entrusted with the city's entire existence argue.

She stood.

"I think I'll leave now, I'm very tired," her voice sounding small and wounded.

Her father nodded his approval and she walked across the Chamber. With each step, the hollow feeling growing inside increased until it reached the raw center of her heart.

__________________________________

Thank you for reading my story to this point. I'm excited about this project and hope you will be also.

1. How do you feel about this story so far?
2. It's early in the book, but can you sense a plot emerging?
3. Are the characters being revealed in a way that makes you care about them?

There is so much yet to be told. I hope you'll stay with me as I labor to bring to the page the story that is keeping me awake at night.