TITLE: Chronicles of a Demonsbane
GENRE: YA Fantasy
My boy Val,
By now it should be obvious that I'm dead, seeing as the only copy of this letter is attached to my will. I was too old to keep living, so rest assured I died happily. When I was deciding what your share of my possessions would be, I thought long and hard. I've never had money or shirts with popped collars (or whatever it is people think is hip these days), but I had the glory of Achilles (with the lifespan of Odysseus) and, Baby Boy, that is the highest honor a man can have. And so, since you've always been my favorite son (don't tell your brothers!) I have left you my prized possession: my title as Protector of the Flatland clan, my mother's clan (and you thought you were all city boy!) I know you'll make me proud.
Currently in the flesh (though hopefully not for long--my bones hurt!)
Simon Valgona read the letter over again and again, just as he did the day he first received it in its crisp, white envelope; that day the sun stood still and his mother no longer had the desire to bake deliciously adorned cakes and his brothers finally had nothing sarcastic or philosophical to say.
Val chuckled briefly. At only seventeen-years-old he was in charge of the entire clan, from the Forbidden Sea that wrapped around the land, all the way west, a sixteen day journey leading to the Corsica desert. The Flatlands, formally known as Siberia II.