Circle of Reign by Jacob Cooper Page A

making a dull scratching sound. Sighing heavily, the man tried but failed to exhale the desperation within him.
    Though it was nearly mid-day, the clouds caught in the treed canopy high above had not yet begun to dissipate in the day’s heat. The gentle sound of branches rustling in the breeze and a light drizzle attended the city. Frequently, small spectrums of colorcast light were created as the sun’s rays broke through the trees and shone through millions of minute raindrop prisms. The man had not been to Calyn in over twenty years.
    Calyn. The jewel of the Realm and state city of the Western Province. As all cities of the wood-dwellers, Calyn was part of the forest and nestled into the trees that surrounded and coursed through it. With a ceiling of thick branches and forest growth overhead, little direct sunlight made its way down into the cities of the wood-dwellers. The climate remained cool and the air humid as moisture dripped from the underside of leaves far above the cities.
    Rain would permeate by gravity’s pull to the forest floor, but when evaporating, the layers of leaves and branches far above the ground would catch the vapors, turning them again to water. Wispy clouds formed on the undersides of the canopy, giving a slight haze layer that burned off in the heat of the day. This condensation provided a near constant light precipitation in the land. The height of the trees could extend a hundred feet or more before branches sprawled out from the main body, creating a natural canopy of flora throughout much of the Western Province. A wood-dweller city had all manner of buildings, roads and attractions, much as the cities of other provinces. Stone and concrete were used, but the erections constructed were carefully molded around the forest’s own creations, clearing as little ground as was necessary.
    Nothing in the province, or the entire Realm of Senthara, rivaled the majesty of Calyn. Even the Duke’s palatial city of Iskele in the Northern Province, which was by no means bland, paled in comparison to the splendor of the West’s state city. The spires of the city reached to dizzying heights, in some places rivaling the height of the tallest trees, and were wrapped by vines and foliage of the forest in a circular ascending pattern. This effect was one of seeming acceptance and even protection of the city and her people by the forest itself. Calyn seemed to live and breathe as if it were a part of the forest’s symbiotic life cycle. With sprawling elevated highways among giant and ancient trees, aquifers as wide as small rivers, architecture that defied description, opulent industry, and rare species of wildlife ornamenting the Western Province and her cities at every turn, Calyn was indeed the envy of the Realm.
    But, in the handful of cycles since Thannuel Kerr’s death, the city seemed to canker with decadence, a reversion from its lofty station, along with the name of Kerr. The entropy was slow and almost unnoticeable, but it was there despite the efforts of good men to uphold Lord Kerr’s ideals. This became increasingly difficult, as the mere mention of House Kerr would bring down derision and scorn upon anyone who dared allude to it. Lord Kerr’splot to overthrow House Wellyn had been published throughout the Realm in painstaking detail. All of Senthara had seen the damning reports that were copied from the Archiver’s tablets and distributed widely. His family had not been incriminated in the reports, but irreparable damage to their reputation and standing had occurred.
    All the houses of the Realm reacted with utter disbelief, initially even refusing to believe the claims made by the High Duke’s council, as if this were some elaborate hoax or grand misunderstanding. Slowly, however, the constant barrage of reports and new evidence that flooded the Realm convinced the vast majority of the population. Even those who staunchly refused to accept that Thannuel Kerr was capable of such devious