This novella is the first piece of my novella series, called Cinderlight. The novellas published so far aren’t in chronological order, but if you want the full picture regarding the protagonists’ lives and adventures, you can read the previous parts here: Fay, Family Visit and Revival.
Please be noted that this is the 5th chapter of my ongoing novel Disparities. If you haven’t read the first four chapters, you can find the other parts here.
Trigger warning: there are severe injuries and amputated limbs (even the graphic description of the procedure) waiting ahead, so if you my be triggered by contents like this, proceed with caution.
Disclaimer: This novella is the second exerpt from my novella circle called Cinderlight. You can find the fist part here and the third here. Since Tom and Alex like to share the episodes of their life in a nonlinear chronological order, they decided to show me an interlude now. The exerpts can be read as a stand-alone, but if you want the full picture of their lives I recommend to read the novellas in chronological order.
This is the second part of my novella, Believing is Seeing. Talbott’s story is heavily built on the first part, so if you did not read that storyline, you can check it out on this link.
Disclaimer 1: Please note, that this is the 4th chapter of the novel, so if you did not read chapters 1-3, you can find them linked here.
Disclaimer 2: In this chapter I deliberately changed some events of Paris’ liberation by the Allied forces. So don’t be surprised if you find discrepancies between the real events of the war and this chapter.
Short disclaimer: This novella takes place approximately two and a half years after ‘Cinderlight – a Fay’. This one can be read as a stand-alone, but I still recommend to read the first part here, to get to know the characters. And please keep in mind that ‘Cinderlight – A Fay’ was my first novella I ever had written in English, so please be gentle when judging it.
Louis looked up at the orange sun slowly crawling up on the dawning sky. Never once in his life did he observe the lights with such wonder. But that morning was different. It is clearly unbelievable how little things of someone’s everyday routine get immeasurably valuable, when that someone’s last day begins on a podium tied to a pole soon to be burned to death. Regardless of the wee hours of the morning, bystanders started to gather already filling the first rows. They all wanted to see how one of the bastard sons of Satan would be banished to Hell.
He blinked a few times, when cool water drops slided in his eyes. His head was pounding, his ears were ringing deafening out an otherworldly echo. What the hell had just happened? Was he drinking too much after the battle with his buddies? And now was he waking up next to the pub walls in the rain? He sweared not to drink anymore, like he always did after long nights of dancing and blowing off steam.