Is our society moving toward any of these themes or are we moving away?  Can we tell? 

My serial published Kindle Vella Scifi-Fantasy novel Sparrows Legacy has themes of revenge, WLW, and more subtle topics of how magic is used during war or how trauma can either crush you or make you rise.  

Check it out and give me some feedback.  Here is a survey to quickly tell me how it did or did not capture your attention.

She faced toward the unseen enemy and found her doubt erased.  She remembered her Matie lying on that death bed, her body charred, barely recognizable.  The pain she endured was unimaginable.

“Yes, Sparrow burned, inside and out.”  

That voice stole her breath as he fed thoughts into her mind, images she never witnessed.

Raining fire bolts hit the ground around and through Trine Sworden as she alone held a force from attacking.  Her body was struck over and over, flinching as she was pierced.  Still, she stood in defiance, protecting the villagers as they ran to safety.  She screamed Endrics’ name, identifying the true attacker as flames engulfed her hair, face, and body.  Her throated cry diminished as she fell down, a burnt shell. 

Tara recoiled with revulsion and yelled “no”, even now growing angry at the vision.  With her feet planted wide, the surrounding air thickened.  The wind flipped her hair and shirt ties, the loose cloth beating against her as a whirlwind of air rushed upward.  Her eyes closed as blood pulsed in her ears.  She could no longer feel the love of her Matie or the heavy weight of grief.  Only fury arose, feeding the fire within her.  Her lips pulled back, baring her teeth.  For a second she heard the Psi dog’s growl.  

Her eyes flew open at the thought.  A Psi dog?  There was no Psi dog in the vision of her mother’s death.  The Psi dog was here.  Now.  With the mage. 

In a heartbeat she realized she was under an attack.  The mage was somehow working on her.  He was using her emotions to fill her with anger.  

The Psi dog now had moved further away, his body tense and low.  Sand and winds swirled around her, an unnatural funnel, heat rising.  She flung herself from the swirling mass and somersaulted toward the dog, only a split second before a bolt of lightning struck the pole outside the enclosure and whipped its electric length into the storms’ location where she once stood.  The area lit up, a dancing white column of debris.  The hair on her skin rose with the static air that coalesced in the area.

With a fluid and deadly form, she shot an arrow into the tent, ripping through the fabric, aiming for an enemy.  Two more were released and she notched another.  The column fell down, dust rising from the ashes.  She coughed and tried to see through it.  

The Psi dog tore through the small cloud to the tent entrance and disappeared within.

Sliding sideways before the opening once more, she glanced inside to find a figure lying on the ground.  The dog was on the far side, chewing through a rope and that kept another dog anchored to a pole.  

She aimed at the downed form and realized her arrows had been true.  The man’s shoulder and stomach were embedded, he was pinned. 

“How have you done this?  You are no mage.”  He rasped as he clutched at his stomach.  

Tara heard running footsteps and saw Chiri and Jock enter behind her.  They were both pale with fear until they saw her.

“He held us.  A fear forcefield.  We could not break it.  Take him out Tara.  He still holds powers.  He has a cristi.  I can feel it.”