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“They wanted Phasmatis.”

Calanthas balked. “That’s ridiculous. He’s just a boy.”

Talstran looked into Calanthas’s eyes sharply. “Phasmatis is only a boy. But great men do not simply fall out of the treetops. They are born, and they start as boys, just like any other. Whatever Phasmatis is destined to become, there are forces at work, manifested in the guilds, trying to pervert the great man growing inside.”

An orphan, raised by warrior monks and trained by a prestigious forest elven ranger, finds himself enmeshed in the trappings of the insidious guilds. Taken from his master’s safe forest glen, Phasmatis Kaerasti is forced into a world that is apathetic to his moral quandary as enemies and so-called friends try to make him compromise his beliefs. Embroiled in the guild known as Iron Hawk, Phasmatis finds himself wondering just who he is at all, and oblivious to the forces of good and evil vying for his attention.

“Who knows, friend. Phasmatis might prove to be the next successor in Afanadar’s great legacy; its greatest legacy, its heroes. But if we don’t intervene, that will be ruined. Boys and girls are what everyone ever was, and it is in them that everything will be. That is why we must go and get him.”

Can Phasmatis overcome the pressures of the wickedness around him, or will he succumb to their demands and become the heartless killer they want him to be? The answer unfolds as he battles against horrific monsters and conniving men in the Origin of the Sword Saint.