VBT – The Banished Lands

About the Author

Me

Benjamin Mester is native of San Diego but can often be found wandering the woods of northern Minnesota.  He fell in love with language at an early age – the eloquence of poetry or the grandeur of an epic story. Fantasy is his favorite genre, crafting new and magical places of heroism and adventure.  When he isn’t writing, he’s often taking long walks through nature or wondering about his place in the wide world.

Benjamin is the author of The Banished Lands series.

You can visit him on Goodreads.

About the Book:

The Banished Lands

Title: THE BANISHED LANDS (BOOK ONE)
Author: Benjamin Mester
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 384
Genre: Fantasy

BOOK BLURB:

A kingdom in danger. A prophecy that will change everything. But will they understand it in time? The old world is gone, and barely even histories remain. But something from that time is returning. The closing lines of a farewell poem, written centuries ago by the last great king of the age to his slain wife, might be more than just a poem:

The world and all its light shall fade,
I’ll stay with her beneath the shade
And wait until the world’s remade…

Join us in this epic fantasy adventure as three friends plunge into the great mystery of their age, twelve centuries in the making. A mysterious fog blankets the forest just outside the sleepy town of Suriya. A dark plot unfolds as Durian and his friends discover ties between a strange wanderer and the warlike barbarian kingdom far to the north. Are the mysterious things happening in the forest a prelude to invasion? What happens next will propel Durian and his curious friends into the middle of the oldest riddle in the history of their kingdom, a dozen centuries old.

The Banished Lands series

ORDER YOUR COPY:

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Book Excerpt:

Dismissing hours as they pass

Soft upon the windswept grass.

The hopes of men have come to naught.

Nothing fair for eyes or thought.

For Sheyla lies on golden plain,

Of Cavanah, the fairest slain;

Who met her last and final day

When all was brought to disarray.

Of gladful things now nevermore –

Now bitter wind, now salty shore.

The peaceful world bound to unrest

And darkness looming in the west.

The world and all its light shall fade.

I’ll stay with her beneath the shade

And wait until the world’s remade…

Suriya

The town of Suriya awoke in usual fashion, with thin bands of smoke appearing one by one over the scattered chimney tops, rising to a dawn still flecked with starlight.  Few were stirring this early hour, in this small town in the corner of the kingdom, at the edge of the known world. An autumn wind picked up, pulling at the gray smoke and signaling the discovery of each hidden crevice in the stone cottages with a shriek of cold.

Durian woke to the whistling wind, but his mind was still full of the dream of a woman lying slain in a field.  He thought she was only sleeping, but something kept him from drawing near her. A rider approached, dismounted, and took her into his arms.  The figure pressed her head against his chest, and even from a distance his despair was evident. Then carrying her to his horse, they rode for the horizon.  He’d had this dream once before, and every detail was the same: the woman, the rider, the lingering stab of loss when he woke.

Sleep had almost found him when he snapped back awake – a promise to his best friend, Baron, in mind.  Groaning, Durian pushed himself from bed. Baron was competing in the Sea Games this morning. Though why was beyond him. This was the worst time of year as far as Durian was concerned, with no reprieve from the roving wind that swept up from the south.  With winter at least came snow, piled like a warm blanket against the drafty cottages. But the first heavy snows hadn’t yet fallen and the wind moved as it willed.

Durian ambled to his fireplace and blew slow, hopeful breaths.  But clouds of ash were all that greeted him in return. Reaching for the woodpile beside him, he seized some kindling but hesitated, knowing he’d soon be leaving.  Thob Forest, a two day’s walk westbound, was Suriya’s only source for timber. Abundant as trees were, strange things had been happening there that were keeping the woodsmen at bay.

It brought images of the dream back to mind.  The first time he’d had the dream was just before things in the forest started changing.  Every morning for the last three months, a fog had gathered, remaining throughout the day.  And in the mist were faint hints of perfume and smoke. None knew what caused it.

He glanced to the book lying idle on the mantle, one he’d rummaged through his room to find when the fog first arrived.  Titled Tales of the Prosperous Age, among its grand histories and stories, it contained the farewell poem of King Euthor to his wife, Sheyla – a poem that always touched him.  He’d been struck then, how similar his dream was to the poem and how vivid the images were. It felt connected to the happenings of the forest, but he didn’t know how that could be.

He took the book in hand, remembering fondly how the stories had consumed his imagination as a boy.  All he had wanted then was to go to the capital city, Eulsiphion; wander the great hall and visit the archives to learn whatever he could of the old world.  

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Posted on May 17, 2018, in Guest Authors and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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