An old woodland path at twilight, with green fireflies and the last light beyond the hills.

An epic fantasy by Michael D. Holt

PELRavenhurst Fallen

All her world was a forest.
Until the world came for it.

BOOK ONEWONDER. LOSS. THE WILL TO GO ON.

I The story

A small light.
An unforgiving world.

For Pel, Ravenhurst is the whole world.

It is forest paths and familiar trees, the excitement of the Games, and the certain belief that a stick can become a Mage’s staff if you want it badly enough.

When that safety is shattered, a young Elfling must find her way through a world far larger—and far crueler—than she imagined. Magic brings questions of its own. So do the people she learns to trust.

Pel — Ravenhurst Fallen follows a child’s wonder into the shadow of grief, danger, and power. At its heart is a difficult question: what can she hold on to when everything familiar falls away?

A dark fantasy of survival, friendship, and the cost of power. Contains violence and disturbing scenes.

II Meet Pel

Before the darkness,
there was a girl.

Eight years old. An Elfling of Ravenhurst. A collector of leaves, a climber of trees, and a fierce opponent of particularly stubborn vines.

Pel has a greeting for the Sun and a scolding for the root that trips her. The smallest things can hold her attention until the whole evening has slipped away.

That curiosity is where her story begins. What follows will ask far more of her than she could ever know.

“If I catch you, then you shall surely be my light home!”Pel · The Danger of Fireflies

III The people

Every face has a story.

A few first impressions. Get to know the people in Pel’s world, with their stories still waiting to unfold.

Pel, a young Elfling with brown curls and freckles, reading by candlelight.

The curious Elfling

Pel

A world of questions. Eight years to ask them.

A mind for reason

Fesnor

Some answers are worth questioning.

A fierce conviction

Melore

Quick to speak. Slow to yield.

Drakon’s granddaughter

Mythrial

A knowing smile. A little mischief.

A familiar laugh

Blakin

An easy smile. An open heart.

The outspoken Dwarf

Camire

A red beard. A ready opinion.

The old magician

Grisman

A great name. A frail old man.

Seven faces from Pel’s world. Choose a portrait to get acquainted.

IV A little of the world

Begin with what she knows.

A familiar path. A celebration that ends too soon. The possibility of magic, just out of reach.

An ancient forest path in the soft light of dusk.

At the edge of home

A place to belong

Ravenhurst

Pel knows the paths at its edge, the hill where she watches the Sun, and the trees that make fine hiding places. To an eight-year-old Elfling, home can feel as large as the whole world.

Ravenhurst has wonders of its own. Its West Gates stand twenty-five feet high, forged from solid Moonbeam Mithrial. Even the Elves who move them must wait for a Conjurer to release their magical seal.

A word to know: Elfling — a young Elf. Pel’s Coming-of-Age ceremony is still two years away.

An atlas of Pel’s world

Beyond the familiar paths.

Ravenhurst and Grimwood lie close together. Beyond them stretch long valleys, distant mountain country, and a sea with room for stories still untold.

A spacious parchment map: Azure far west of Ravenhurst, Grimwood beside Ravenhurst to the southeast, Barrister in the northwest mountains, Hansol on their outer foothills, Forchone far northeast, and a distant island in the Freshwater Sea. — The wider lands Ravenhurst & the lands beyondOpen & zoom

Places beyond Ravenhurst

Hansol, the old ridge

Southeast of Barrister, Hansol rises along the outer foothills of Dwarven country. The ridge commands an approach into the neighbouring lands.

Across the wider lands

The Grey Marches stretch across the northern plains. The Ashen Downs lie southwest of Ravenhurst, while Longmere rests farther south among the low hills.

V The artwork

Glimpses of her world.

Small moments from the pages of the book. Choose a scene to look a little closer.

Pel in her green hood reaches towards a tiny green firefly at the grassy edge of Ravenhurst. — The last light of the Games
A firefly, a borrowed branch, and a very serious game of being a Mage.

Pel watches a white dove perched on her hand, with a pale fortress beyond the meadow. — Hello, Mr. Dove
A small visitor in the Sanctuary meadow has very little to say for himself.

Pel holds an apple while Blakin, dusted with flour, sweeps the Sanctuary kitchen. — A very small snack
Blakin’s idea of a little snack leaves rather a lot to sweep up.

Pel closes her eyes and covers her ears, concentrating in an oversized chair beside the hearth. — Trying to think of nothing
Grisman sets a task that sounds much easier than it turns out to be.

More glimpses of her world

Pel stands with her staff in a forest clearing beneath a shaft of warm sunlight. — 01Beneath the trees

Pel studies an open book by candlelight, wearing her green cloak. — 02Between the pages

Pel and a blonde girl hold hands and laugh as they spin together on the grass. — 03A moment of joy

Pel examines small objects arranged on a wooden stall in a bustling market. — 04Market curiosities

Pel holds a small green dragon figure between her hands. — 05A small discovery

Pel crouches in warm forest light with a small woodland animal resting on her open hand. — 06A woodland friend

Further into the storyFour more illustrations · includes visual spoilers

Pel rests against a large green dragon, with mountains behind them and a blue light at the tip of her staff. — 07With the dragon

Pel leans close to a green dragon’s head beneath a cloudy mountain sky. — 08An unlikely companion

A small cloaked figure stands below an immense stone dragon on a mountain stairway. — 09At the dragon’s feet

Pel looks up a stone stairway towards a towering dragon-shaped monument. — 10Looking up

VI Pel’s Sanctuary diary

Things she wanted
to write down.

Some days are for questions. Some are for mischief. And some are for keeping a little piece of home.

An imagined diary inspired by Pel’s time in Grisman’s Sanctuary. Eight companion pages, away from the story’s great secrets.

A morning in the meadow

Mr. Dove is no help at all

A white dove sat upon my hand. I did not catch him. He came all by himself, which is a very different thing.

I asked whether he knew where we were. He turned his head and looked at me with one eye. I suppose he did know. He lives here. But knowing a thing and being helpful about it are evidently not the same.

His feet were warm. I had not thought about birds having warm feet before. He kept moving them a little, very carefully, while I tried not to move mine at all.

Then he went back to the bridge, where another dove was waiting. Perhaps he has someone he tells things to. I hope he tells her I was polite.

Pel

1 of 8 · Wonder

Your kept pages stay on this device.

VII A little conversation

Ask Pel.

Pel, with brown curls, green eyes and freckles.

Choose your conversation

Pull up a chair. Ask about her day, her home, or the questions Grisman never quite finishes answering.

Follow a thought, explore a new subject, or ask again. Pel has five replies to every question—and rather a lot of questions to wander through.

64 questions · 320 replies to discover

Your discoveries stay on this device.

Meet her on the first page ↗

Beside the study fire

Pel

Oh—hello! Are you here for a lesson? I hope not. Mr. Grisman has already given me rather a lot to read. You may sit here, though. What would you like to ask?

What would you like to ask?

Imagined, written conversations inspired by the book. The story’s great secrets remain on its pages.

VIII Begin reading

The Danger of Fireflies

CHAPTER ONE
A short excerpt · 3 minute read

The third day of the Forest Games was drawing to an end, and Pel was already beginning to miss them.

She sat on a small hill at the edge of Ravenhurst, with the cool grass against her bare legs and the last of the Sun upon her face. There were two days left. She had counted them more than once, but counting did nothing to make them last. At eight years old, Pel knew that time could be terribly unfair. Whole afternoons slipped away while she was playing, yet a few minutes spent waiting for something could go on almost forever.

For now, at least, She was still above the mountains. Pel watched Her turn the sea-blue sky to crimson and tried to make Her linger, holding very still and narrowing her eyes with all the power she could summon. Sometimes, when she did this, the Sun seemed to pause. Tonight She continued to sink, a very old and tired Sun who had no wish to be kept awake by an Elfling.

Continue the excerptClose the rest of the excerpt

Soon the sky would turn black and fill with stars. Or perhaps it turned white when She went away, and something else stretched itself across the heavens: a great dark covering, imperfectly made, with little pinholes through which the whiteness shone. Pel liked to think about that, though she had never quite decided what could be large enough to put the covering there, or where it kept itself during the day.

The last bright edge slipped behind the mountains. Pel bowed from where she sat.

"Until we meet again t'morrow, m'Lady."

She stayed a little longer, singing quietly to herself and teasing clovers out of the grass. There was no reason to hurry just yet. The evening entertainment would soon be on centre stage, and she meant to be there, but there was still light enough to find the trail. She could sit for a few more minutes.

Being an Elf was all Pel really understood, and being an Elfling suited her particularly well. Her Coming-of-Age ceremony was two years away. Until then there were trees to climb, games to play, and a great many things she had yet to experience. She pulled a clover apart and let the pieces fall upon her knee.

A breeze touched her cheeks. As she lifted her face to it, a small green light drifted towards the hill.

Pel smiled. Four moons had come and gone since she had last seen a firefly. There used to be more of them about Ravenhurst, though no one had told her why they were becoming so scarce. This one seemed in no great hurry to be anywhere. It came a little closer, sank towards the grass, then rose again.

"If I catch you, then you shall surely be my light home!"

She stood, brushed the clover from her garments, and skipped to a nearby tree. Behind its trunk she drew her hood over her head. It was important to look properly mysterious when hunting something, even something so small that it might not appreciate the effort.

The firefly lit up again and slowly drifted into her (wrongfully claimed) territory. Pel leaned round the trunk, waiting until it had settled near the place where she had been sitting, then crept out with her hands ready.

It vanished.

End of excerpt

From Pel — Ravenhurst Fallen by Michael D. Holt

The author

Michael D. Holt

Michael D. Holt is the author of Pel — Ravenhurst Fallen, the first book in Pel’s story.

Through the eyes of a young Elfling, the novel explores wonder, loss, and the courage it takes to keep caring in a world that gives you reasons to stop.

Spend a little time in her world

PELRavenhurst Fallen

A small light.
An unforgiving world.

Before the darkness,
there was a girl.

Every face has a story.