Broken Throne - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,61

are the closest mankind comes to the sun upon the earth.

As in Montfort, the northwest coast of Ciron is subject to a large amount of volcanic activity. The large inland sea, known as the Lagamara, is sacred to Cironian religion as well as central to their economy. Its shores are incredibly fertile for agriculture, while a maritime fishing industry flourishes throughout the sea.

Reds work both farms and the sea, with their populations centered in the coastal fishing communities as well as on the city outskirts. While Reds are currently not forcibly conscripted into military service, Ciron has been known to do so in times of war. Because of the harsh climate of the Grand Desert, many Reds never attempt the crossing to Montfort, or they die trying.

Both the Sun’s Voice and the monarchy are based in the city of Solest, a holy place at the tip of the massive peninsula bordering the Lagamara. From there, residents can see both sunrise and sunset, and worship the sun at these holy times.

Due to both distance and the Grand Desert, Ciron is largely removed from the wars of the eastern countries. They treat mostly with Tiraxes along their southern border, and maintain a shaky neutrality with Montfort.

* * *

THE KINGDOM OF TIRAXES is a triarchy, with power vested in three scions of three Silver dynasties, who rule the kingdom together. Each King or Queen Triarch maintains his or her own lands, while decisions for the kingdom at large, such as whether or not to go to war, must be made unanimously. Because the kingdom is so vast, with varying weather and landscape, Reds outside the major settlements are often left alone by their Silver overlords. There are rumors of Red-only enclaves along the western border and deep in the southern desert.

* * *

So no decisions are ever made, then.

* * *

The Queen Triarch of the West, MAILUNA TORMAS, rules the desert, mountains, and grasslands west of the Rion Pecosa to the southwestern border with Ciron. She is a storm, like the rest of her line, an ability that allows her otherwise-barren territory to flourish beneath revitalizing rainstorms and floods. The Tormas line has transformed pieces of the Tiraxean desert over the last century, making them suitable for agriculture.

The King Triarch of the North is the blood healer AMBROSIN, who is well over one hundred years old but so skilled in ability that he has been rendered ageless and nearly immortal. Ambrosin is the son of Queen ANDURA CALORE, one of two women to have ruled Norta in their own right. Though he is the son of the queen, he inherited his father’s blood-healer abilities and was thus excluded from Calore succession. To acknowledge the house that denied him, he recognizes no last name and sought his destiny elsewhere. He rules from the Prairie border to the Rion Roja, and his capital, VIGIA, is often subject to attack from the Sandhills, raiders, or sometimes both working together.

BELLEZ ALLIRION, the Queen Triarch of the Midland, is the strongest of the three triarchs, ruling the majority of the Tiraxean population from her capital at Cuatracastela. Her territory stretches from the Tiraxean coast to the interior between the Rion Roja and the Rion Pecosa. Not only is she a talented eye, able to see the immediate future, but the Queen Triarch is famed throughout the southern territories for her beauty.

Tiraxes is the only nation to openly trade with the criminal syndicates of the Disputed Lands. King Triarch Ambrosin even has a treaty allowing his ships full movement along the Great River in tandem with the river smugglers.

* * *

THE DISPUTED LANDS are anarchy.

Tempting

WORLD BEHIND

ONE

Ashe

I’m only twenty years old, but I’ve seen countless rat days, as crew and as captain. They’re always the same.

This one starts like any other. Busy, stinking, noisy. A sea of faces and waving hands stretches across the ragged docks on the Lakelander side of the river, hundreds of mouths open in plea, fingers clutching full purses or useless stacks of paper currency. They beg in many voices, all asking the same thing. Take us away. Bring us downriver. Carry me west or south or north, in any direction but the one I have come from. Like rats on a burning raft, trying to scamper up the ropes.

Used to be only Reds who looked downriver, eager to leave the Silver rule of the Crownlands. Willing to brave the Freelands and the infamous Rivermen, seeking a better life than the one they left behind. Not

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