Baehler’s muscles tore as he swung the axe, burying it in the lava pool where it bubbled for a second before a perfect orb, made of pure obsidian, floated to the surface in its place.
He leaned in to retrieve the orb with scaled-gloves, tossing it casually into a nearby minecart that was already spilling over. A whistle sounded from the guard tower and the carts pulled away, disappearing into the red smoke that settled in the Black Mountains.
He had already been working in the fields for hours, but it was hard to separate day from night in Dorisol, where smoke filled the air, and the drax flew so thickly they could barely be distinguished from the red sky…
An excerpt from Reachers:
Book One of Travelers of the Mainland, coming 2019