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Keep reading for a sample of The Wastes of Keldora by Alex Raizman - Daniel might have a Library, but Julian has a factory. And if he wants to survive, he needs to start building - fast.
Acknowledgements
The Library was the first story I ever wrote.
The first long one, really. It was the first story I shared that got traction and attention from a lot of people, and the first one that really made me stop and say “Wow, this is cool, maybe this can be something more.” The Library was why I made my subreddit, r/inorai. It was the first story that I tried to take and make a full novel. It was also the first story I dropped and put on the shelf, but hey. We got there in the end.
Because of that, ending The Librarian of Alexandria leaves me with a lot of feelings. Without this story, I wouldn’t have gotten here as an author. I wouldn’t have ever pictured myself as someone who could write a book, let alone publish it—let alone dozens more. I wouldn’t have joined the communities that I have, and met the people who are my closest friends and colleagues. I owe The Library a lot.
To everyone who waited, watching for the day The Library would have its day in the sun, thank you. Your jokes and nudges and memes kept the soul of this project alive long after it might otherwise have shriveled up and died.
A long list of names will follow here—Alex, and Jess, and Connor, and Cutter, and Lola, and Aly, and everyone else who has dutifully listened to my incoherent rambles. I’ve said all of your names before, and I hope to continue thanking you for your friendship long into the future.
To the readers who are still here, years after we first met, your presence is an honor that still baffles me. I hope I was able to do right by the story for you. I hope that somewhere out there, Hexidian is finally smiling.
And I’m not saying goodbye to Leon and Daniel yet, so stay tuned. The next chapter is ready to begin.
More from Casey White
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Independent Series
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The Flameweaver Saga
Chosen
Charred
Nightsworn
Ascendant
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Reverie
Halfway to Home
Unknown Horizons
Richard “Quickdraw” McCallister
A Eulogy
Shorts
Black Skies
Worlds that Never Were
Deposition of the Departed
The Aedanverse
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Remnants of Magic
Silvertongue
Wanderer
Legion
The Librarian of Alexandria
The Library
The Librarian
Spark of Divinity
Survival’s Edge
Fortune’s Fool
Terra Rising
Bonus - The Wastes of Keldora (Prologue)
The Wastes of Keldora
Factory of the Gods - Book One
A pillar of flame rose from the ground and streaked towards the heavens. Kurli flinched from the sudden heat and stumbled in her mad dash. Behind her, a guttural voice bellowed with the thrill of the hunt.
An arrow whined as it zipped past one of her long ears, severing a few strands of her metallic silver hair. It stuck into the ground ahead, at the base of the mountain that rose sharply in front of her. The cut on her arm, red blood contrasting with dark grey skin, pulsed in time with her pounding heart, and her ankle shot a lance of pain with every step.
All in all, not one of Kurli’s best days.
She juked to the right moments before another arrow flew through the space she’d just vacated. It gave her a chance to see her attackers. Five Urkin, each taller than her and broad of shoulders, their thick muscles cording under light green skin. Their horns curled back over their heads, and one of them had an arrow sticking into the horn from where Kurli had almost hit the skull.
Time to see if she could hit the mark this time.
Kurli flipped open the pouch for her inventory belt where she kept her bow, pulling it out in a fluid motion. With her other hand, she opened a different pouch. She took a half second to leap to the side, letting another arrow whizz barely past her, and checked the interior of the flap.
Arrows: 12/64
Not much left to work with. She had to make this shot count.
The other Urkin were readying their bows. Urkin bows were twice as thick and strong as her own, and nearly as long as their holders were tall. If an arrow hit her straight on, it would drive through bone and come out the other side. Her own arrows didn’t have that kind of power.
But no one could aim like an Aelif.
Kurli steadied her hand and clicked her tongue. The sound it made wouldn’t register for the Urkin. Her antenna twitched, tasting the minute fluctuations in the air and waiting for the echo to reach her ears. All senses now attuned to her target, she let loose an arrow. It was true on its mark, streaking towards an Urkin skull. He jerked his head at the last second. He bleated in pain as it caught in his horn instead of his skull, and a jerk of his hand sent his arrow flying wildly. Kurli clicked her tongue again and dropped her aim towards his chest, where nothing would obstruct her shot if he moved.
A shield of shifting chains interposed itself between her and her target. The arrow stuck into the barrier and was snapped in half.
Kurli swore and crouched down. A sixth Urkin crested over the hill behind his fellows. He was slimmer than the others, and wore armor - a mesh of chains that covered him from neck to foot and writhed like snakes, only broken
