Unpublished Prologue from Mount of Lost Memories

Can you believe it's been one whole year since Mount of Lost Memories was released? I can't. I'm so grateful to everyone who has read and supported the book! It has meant the world to me.

To celebrate this anniversary, I decided to share the unpublished prologue. For the first three drafts, the prologue was what you'll read below—not the prologue about the king dying. This captures a moment sixteen years ago where the Clanmother, who was Second at the time, decides to take Mayra in, despite her being an outsider.

I chose to rewrite this prologue from a different character's perspective because I wanted to bring the Mount in earlier, so I could foreshadow the setting that most of the book takes place in.

But, this is still an important part of the Clanmother's character, and I'm excited to share it with all of you.

Enjoy!

.

.

.

(Trigger warning: Miscarriage)

.

.

.

(UNPUBLISHED) PROLOGUE

Sixteen years ago.

Yrsa woke to the sound of voices arguing outside her door. She pulled herself out from beneath her warm furs to see what her clansisters were fighting over this time. The Clanmother had been away for only a handful of weeks, leaving Yrsa to lead as Second, and already the endless quarrels and accusations made her want to crawl into bed and never leave.

She opened the door with a scowl. Three Warmaidens huddled in a tight circle in the hallway of the clanhome, spitting hushed protests at one another.

“What is wrong?” Yrsa demanded. Elna, the clan's Third, spun around with wide eyes, her arms wrapped around a small pile of furs. 

“Second,” Elna said, addressing Yrsa by her title. “I found something while on patrol, left in the snow at the outer gate.”

“Let me see it.”

Elna handed the bundle over, and Yrsa's chest constricted. She could already tell by the wriggling weight what she was holding. 

“It’s an outsider,” Elna said, stepping away as if the child carried a catching disease.

“By the Three, Elna, she’s a youngling, not an enemy soldier,” another clansister said.

Yrsa folded back the fur blanket to reveal the child’s round face, and a knot twisted in her stomach. Elna was correct. The child looked not yet two years old, though her face was sunken and thin, thanks to the famine. She had dark hair and dark eyes. Obviously not the offspring of the pale-colored Warmaiden clan.

“We can’t take an outsider in,” Elna said sharply. “The code prohibits it.”

“And you would rather we let her freeze to death?” a clansister said. “Thank goodness you saved her in time.”

Elna shook her head. “I only brought the child in because leaving her wasn’t my decision to make.”

“Maybe there were others traveling with them. They can’t be far.”

“There was only one set of footprints.” Elna turned to Yrsa, who hadn’t lifted her eyes from the child. “Second? What do you want us to do with it?”

Yrsa brushed her fingertips against the child's downy, black hair. The knot inside her twisted tighter. She had always wondered what her own child would have looked like. But every attempt had ended much like a battle lost. Blood. Death. Wounds beyond healing. It was clear that Yrsa would never know the face of her own making.

Yrsa peered down at the girl, who was starting to fuss. She jostled the child, unsure how to calm it, but that only made the child more red-faced. The timing of the child’s arrival could not be a coincidence. Could it be a sign from the Three? A test of some sort?

A gift?

“The girl stays with us,” Yrsa finally said, addressing the three pairs of eyes trained on her. 

“But, the codes—” 

"The codes do not strictly state that we cannot adopt an outsider into our clan. They merely dictate that no outsider can train to be a Warmaiden.”

Elna’s mouth hardened to a thin line. “A technicality.”

Yrsa gave Elna a firm look. “This child will live under my protection, but she will not train to become one of us. There are many other roles in the clan besides Warmaiden.”

“You are the Second,” Elna said. “You cannot host an outsider knowing you will one day become Clanmother. Why not just give the child to the cook or to one of the men? Surely that is a wiser choice.”

A wiser choice indeed, Yrsa thought. But just then the child stopped fussing. She yawned and blinked her eyes closed. Asleep in her arms. Perhaps there was more wisdom in keeping the child than Elna could ever see.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Yrsa said to the others. “The Three Sisters have not yet chosen me as Clanmother. If I am to be given that honor, I will fight that battle when it comes. For now, the child stays with me.”

“You walk a fine line,” Elna warned. “The girl will be an outsider all of her life. The clan can never truly be her home.”

“I know.”

And with that, Yrsa took the child into her room and closed the door behind her. She laid the sleeping child on the bear-skin rug, warmed by the hearth, and knelt beside her.

"You may be an outsider, child, but I know, one day, you will become so much more."