Saga of the Known Lands

He was once known as Prince Bernard, ruler of his people and the man who led them in the Fey War against creatures out of myth and legend, beings out of nightmare. A man renowned for his strength, a man feared by his own people as much as his enemies. But there are other names for him, too. Kingslayer. Oathbreaker. Traitor. The Crimson Prince.

When a man goes out seeking blood, he will find it. Always he will find it. It was a truth Cutter had learned long ago, for he had been that man. For countless years, on countless battlefields, he had sought violence and blood...and the gods help him, he had found it. Found more than his share.

I am fire and all I touch turns to ash. Despite the odds, Cutter and his companions managed to bring Matt to the capital, where he was crowned king. But instead of getting better, things have only gotten worse. The Known Lands and its people stand at a precipice. One false move, one mistake, and they will all fall into the abyss. Cutter wants only to protect his people, to right his many wrongs. But a warrior’s hands are made for killing, not healing, and fingers drenched with blood can only ruin anything they touch. Such is the warrior’s truth. Such is the warrior’s curse.

The path to peace is paved in blood. Or so Cutter tells himself during the long nights as he travels deeper into the Black Wood, wrestling with his inner demons and battling those creatures which emerge from the shadows seeking his life.

A warrior's path is trodden in pain and death lies at its end. Those were his father's words from long ago. Not just words, in truth, but a warning. Despite this, in the end, Cutter, like so many others, had chosen pain, had chosen death. Maybe he had done so when he lay dying in some back alley of his home city. Maybe it had been when Yeladrian, the Fey King, had gifted him the Breaker of Pacts. Or perhaps he had not chosen his path at all. Perhaps it had chosen him. Either way, there was no choice left to him now. His path lay before him, and so the only thing left to do was to walk it.

When the storm comes, when he's assailed by his doubts and fears, his body and mind wracked by pain, when whatever strength he has—legendary or not—has left him, a man must focus not on putting one foot in front of the other but finding a reason to. Cutter knows this, for he has been here before, in this place of doubt and darkness, just as he knows his reason. A promise, one he made long ago to protect Matt, his son. But not just a promise, for promises might be broken, forgotten. An oath, though, that is a different thing. An oath becomes part of a man, his sword and his shield.