Life as a soldier in 1777 was brutal beyond what most of us imagine. Imagine waking before dawn, fastening fifty pounds of gear — musket, powder, blankets — and marching through mud, rain, and frozen ground toward Saratoga. The 4th New York Regiment had to push north toward that campaign, part of Burgoyne’s advance, knowing that the fate of the Revolution might hinge on their success.
Men marched through the dense forests of upstate New York, trudging through slush and swamp, their shoes...
When most people think of the American Revolution, they picture muskets firing at Bunker Hill, ragged soldiers marching through winter snow, and the triumphant roar at Yorktown. But tucked between the pages of history is a name few remember: The 4th New York Regiment.
I wanted to write about them not as faceless men in faded records, but as real people who fought — and, in my world, brushed against something darker than any king’s army.
Raised in a Time of Fire
The 4th New York was born in the...
Stories rarely appear fully formed. They whisper first — quiet, almost afraid to be heard.
For me, it began on an ordinary East Texas morning.
I was sitting outside on the back patio, a mug of coffee in my hand, letting the stillness of the day settle in. A lizard darted across the warm stone, pausing in the sunlight. Birds sang in the trees, their songs drifting lazily over the yard. The world felt simple… yet, in that moment, I couldn’t shake a thought that hit me harder than I expected:
What...
There is a place where the world thins. Where the air trembles like a drawn bowstring, and shadows lean closer than they should. Few know its name, but those who do whisper only one: the Rift.
A Veil That Was Never Whole
Long before empires rose or armies marched, something struck the fabric of reality. No one agrees whether it was an ancient war, a curse, or a creation gone wrong—but the Veil that separates our world from the Hollowing was torn. Not completely, but enough to leave a scar...
Every war breeds ambition. Every battlefield whispers promises of glory. But few men have ever listened as closely—or with as much hunger—as General Richard Harland.
The Soldier Who Refused to Fade
Harland was not born into power. He rose through the British ranks on cunning and iron discipline, a soldier who studied every tactic and every failure. But beneath his polished uniform and calm command burned a fear he never spoke aloud: the fear of being forgotten. To him, death was not the...
History books tell us of those who marched into battle and never came home. But what if not all were truly gone?
When a regiment falls, it is not only bodies that are left behind. War stains the earth, and sometimes, the earth remembers. Whispers from Saratoga and beyond tell of soldiers whose spirits did not rest, men caught between musket smoke and shadow.
The Hollowing’s Claim
The Hollowing feeds not only on the living—it thrives on the dead. Every battlefield becomes a harvest, every fallen...
Some say the Eye is not a gift but a curse, a mark that was never meant to rest upon mortal flesh. Others whisper it was forged in blood, etched by hands that were neither wholly human nor wholly divine. What we know is little—and what we think we know may only be fragments of rumor passed down through shadowed centuries.
Whispers of Its Birth
Legends claim the Eye was not found but made. That somewhere in the deep, where war first tore the veil between worlds, a figure—known only in...
In the heart of a cavern where shadows whisper and stone remembers, there dwells a figure older than memory, older than nations, perhaps even older than the Eye itself. She is called many names—the Keeper, the Witness, the Blind One—but among those who truly know her, she is remembered as the Librarian of Faces.
The Cave of Faces
Deep beneath the earth lies a cavern carved not by human hands, but by something far older. Within it, stone walls are lined with countless faces—each etched with...
Not all warriors bear muskets, nor do all revolutions unfold upon the battlefield. In The Last Patriot, there exists a shadowed order older than any nation, sworn not to king or colony but to the survival of the world itself. They are called the Wardens of the Veil.
Who Are the Wardens?
The Wardens are an ancient fellowship bound to a single purpose: to guard the barrier known as the Veil, the fragile wall that separates creation from the endless hunger of the Hollowing. Their order predates...
Not every power in The Last Patriot belongs to men or nations. Some forces lie deeper—older than crowns, older than empires, older even than memory itself. Among these, none is more feared or revered than the Eye.
What Is the Eye?
At first glance, the Eye seems a mark—a strange sigil burned into Elias Mercer’s flesh after Saratoga. But the Eye is more than a brand. It sees through shadow, binds its bearer to forces beyond mortal reckoning, and grants glimpses of truths no soldier should endure....
There are enemies Elias can fight with steel, others he can outwit with strategy, and then there is this.
The Mirrorborn.
A figure that should not exist, and yet does. A fractured shadow, stitched together from the echoes of all the lives Elias might have lived… and lost. It is the soldier who fell where Elias stood, the coward who fled where Elias fought, the traitor who bent the knee where Elias resisted. Each broken thread of fate weaves into this abomination—a reflection of Elias Mercer...
Some men shape us not by how long they live, but by the mark they leave when they’re gone. In The Last Patriot, few figures weigh more heavily on Elias Mercer than Sergeant Whitman—his mentor, comrade, and the voice of the battlefield that lingers long after the smoke clears.
The Soldier’s Mentor
Whitman was not a man of fine words or polished manners. He was a soldier through and through—hardened by the French and Indian War before the Revolution ever began, scarred in both body and spirit....
Some betrayals strike deeper than any sword. For Elias Mercer, no wound is sharper than the one left by his childhood friend, Daniel Albright.
A Childhood Escape
Daniel grew up just down the lane from Elias in the colony. At first glance, they seemed inseparable—two boys racing through the woods, daring each other to climb higher, run farther, laugh louder. But there was a reason Daniel clung to Elias so fiercely: home was not safe.
Daniel’s mother had left when he was young, vanishing without...
Not every enemy wears a face. Some are older than nations, older than memory itself. In The Last Patriot, no force is more terrifying—or more inevitable—than the Hollowing.
The Hollowing is not a man, a beast, or even a singular being. It is a cycle. A hunger. A living absence that feeds wherever blood is spilled and war is waged. To encounter the Hollowing is to feel the marrow of the world being drained, the air itself growing thin, as though reality is collapsing inward.
The Beginnings of...
Some guardians fight with steel. Some with fire. But there are others who fight with memory alone. In The Last Patriot, that figure is the Seer, sometimes called the Librarian of Faces—a blind woman who dwells in the Cave of Faces, where the past itself seems carved into stone.
The Cave of Faces
The Cave is no ordinary cavern. Its walls shimmer faintly with light, though no torch burns within. Etched into its stone are countless faces—men, women, even children. Some are worn smooth with age,...
Some enemies raise swords. Others raise questions. In The Last Patriot, one of the most haunting presences Elias Mercer encounters is not a soldier, a general, or even a man at all. He is known only as the Faceless Man—or, as Elias first names him, the Figure in the Fog.
The Faceless Man is less a character and more a presence. He appears when the mist is thick, when Elias is most alone, when the Veil between worlds thins and whispers can almost be heard. Cloaked, gaunt, and utterly devoid of...
Every hero’s journey needs a guide—but guides are rarely gentle, and they are never without scars. In The Last Patriot, that guide comes in the form of Maera, a leader of the Wardens of the Veil.
Maera is not a soldier in the way Elias Mercer is. She doesn’t carry herself with the rigid discipline of the battlefield, nor does she put her faith in musket and blade. Her weapon is knowledge—hard-earned, ancient, and deeply rooted in the old magic that existed long before the colonies. When Elias...
If there is one figure in The Last Patriot who embodies both knowledge and danger, it is the Librarian of Shadows. He is not a soldier, not a general, and not even entirely human. Instead, he is the keeper of truths that were never meant to be spoken, guarding an archive hidden in the folds of time.
The Librarian is a half-man, half-shadow presence who thrives in the in-between places. Surrounded by books bound in bark and skin, he knows the names of every Eye-bearer across the ages. When...
Every great story needs a villain—or at least someone who believes they’re the hero of their own tale. In The Last Patriot, that role belongs to General Harland, a man whose obsession with power takes him far beyond the battlefield.
Harland begins as a British officer, commanding with authority, discipline, and an iron will. But unlike the other generals of the Revolution, Harland isn’t just fighting for crown and country—he’s chasing something deeper. Whispers of immortality. Secrets hidden...
Oh, Cendriel.....Every story needs a character who keeps things sharp, witty, and just a little unpredictable. In The Last Patriot, that role belongs to Cendriel, the owl who manages to be both wise and sarcastic—often in the same sentence.
Cendriel isn’t your typical mystical guide. Yes, he’s clever and insightful, but he also has a knack for cutting through tense moments with a dry remark that makes you laugh even when the situation is anything but funny. Writing his dialogue often caught me...