The story
Magic was not always in this world. It arrived, and everything since has been an argument over who gets to hold it.
Two peoples rose on it. The Elves built a realm of stone and light and made themselves first among the races of Midras. The Fae took the magic into their bodies and learned to carry it for centuries. A hundred years of Accord keeps them off each other's throats, and neither side has ever believed in it.
The humans were caught in the middle and given nothing.
The Dragons, the histories agree, betrayed the peace three thousand years ago and fled north into their peaks. No one living has seen one.
Now something is moving in the north, and the transgressions those histories were written to bury are surfacing one at a time.
The histories were written by the people who needed them to say something else.
The author
J.R. Garule is a former US Navy diver who now works full time in professional development. He lives within an hour of Seattle, walks up mountains when the weather allows it, and takes consistently mediocre photographs of his dogs and considerably worse ones of birds.
He came to writing sideways. During a stretch when the things he had built an identity on stopped being available to him, someone dear to him listened to him talk about a book he had just finished and asked why he didn't write his own. The Stolen Age is the answer to that question. It took longer than she probably meant.
He built two languages before he finished the first book.
Be there for the first one
Publishing moves slowly and quietly. The list is where the news lands first: cover, release date, early chapters, and the occasional piece of Midras that will never fit inside the books.
No more than one message a month. Leave whenever you like.
Elsewhere
Mountains, dogs, and birds that refuse to hold still. Progress on Book Two when there is progress worth reporting.