Dear readers, tonight with us is a young boy with a special magical gift and a travelling assassin. They are here top talk about their world, and what happens when ancient seals begin to crack.

Tell us a little about where you grew up.

Weylin: Fenward. A river village where nothing ever changed, or so it seemed. My earliest memories are of chasing fish through the reeds, listening to my mother’s voice carry over the water. It was safe, small, a place where people expected you to stay and grow old in the same patch of earth. I would have been content with that once. But now the seals are breaking, one by one, and Fenward has become a memory instead of a destiny. The world is demanding more of me than I ever thought possible.

Asurei: I didn’t grow up anywhere worth remembering. My childhood was an apprenticeship to hunger. Streets teach you quickly who you are, or who you’ll have to become to survive. I became sharp. I became fast. And eventually, I became a Ghostblade. The Order of the Ghostblade forged me into what I am: an assassin who steps out of shadow when a name is given. My past is smoke. My present is steel.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child?

Weylin: A carved top, rough and unsteady, made by my father before he died. It never spun straight, always wobbling across the floor, but I loved it. I used to think if I could just make it balance, I could fix everything that had gone wrong, bring him back, stop the grief from swallowing us. Looking back, I suppose that was the first time I believed broken things could be mended. That belief is what carries me now.

Asurei: Toys are for children who have time to play. I didn’t. But I did learn early that people can be bent and broken like wood or glass. Fear was my toy, manipulation my game. The first time I discovered I could make someone dance to my tune, it was intoxicating. But if you press me for a softer answer… once, long ago, I had a ribbon, pale as moonlight. It was torn from me, like everything else. I still remember how it felt between my fingers.

What do you do now?

Weylin: I walk the world, whether I wish to or not, because the seals are breaking and something old and vengeful is stirring beneath the earth. The words I carry, the stones that answer me, they’re part of it. I didn’t ask for this burden, but if I don’t stand in the breach, who will? Fenward no longer needs me; the world does. And so I go on.

Asurei: I kill when the First Flame commands. A name is spoken, and I make sure the voice that spoke it is never silenced, or that the name belongs to a corpse. I am a Ghostblade, feared because I never miss. But sometimes, in the quiet after a mission, I wonder what I might be if I wasn’t only a weapon. Redemption is a dangerous thought for someone like me, but it lingers, like a shadow that refuses to leave.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Weylin: I’ve walked roads I never imagined, met people who carry more secrets than smiles, and learned that magic listens, but not always kindly. The seals are breaking, and with each crack, something terrible strains against its bonds. I don’t know if I can stop it, but I know I have to try. That’s the shape of my adventure: stepping forward even when I’m not certain my feet will find solid ground.

Asurei: Adventure? Don’t insult me. What I’ve lived is blood, betrayal, and shadow. I’ve taken lives and unmade kingdoms in silence, and the world calls it ‘necessary.’ But I’m beginning to see that perhaps necessity is only another word for chains. Maybe that’s what this journey is teaching me, that I’ve been bound all along, and the knife at my belt can’t cut the ties that matter most.

What was the scariest thing you faced?

Weylin: The first time the stones spoke back. I thought I was losing my mind. Their voices carry the weight of centuries, and to hear them is to feel how small you truly are. But scarier still is knowing that the seals won’t hold, and when they all break, I may be the only thread between the world and ruin. That knowledge keeps me awake at night.

Asurei: I’ve faced blades, poisons, magic that sears the soul. None of it frightened me. But to admit something you’ll never hear me say twice, the thought of redemption unsettles me more than any enemy. To change, truly change, would mean killing the person I’ve been. And I don’t know if I have the strength to murder myself.

The worst thing about your life?

Weylin: That I no longer belong anywhere. Not to Fenward, not yet to the wider world. I’m caught between who I was and who I must become, and it feels sometimes like I’ll be torn in two before I find where I fit.

Asurei: The hunger. It never sleeps. It drives me into darkness, into blood, into silence. Even when I’ve done enough, it whispers that there is always more to take, always another name to strike. That gnawing voice is my truest companion, and my worst curse.

And the best thing?

Weylin: That the world, even with all its danger, is beautiful. I’ve seen skies so vast they make you forget sorrow, rivers that sing like choirs, and threads of magic weaving through everything. For all the fear, there is wonder. And that wonder reminds me why it’s worth standing against the darkness.

Asurei: Freedom. I’ve carved it with my own hands, stolen it from those who thought to cage me. And in my better moments, I imagine what it might be to use that freedom for something other than killing. That thought is the closest I come to hope.

Tell us about your friends.

Weylin: Nyari, who’s braver than she realises. My one-eyed cat, Basil, who thinks he rules the world. Others who have walked beside me even when they didn’t understand me. I don’t know if I deserve them, but I’m grateful for them.

Asurei: Friends? I have allies, sometimes. People who are useful until they’re not. But there was one, once, who saw me not as a weapon but as a woman. She died for it. Since then, I don’t permit myself the luxury of friends. Still… perhaps one day.

Any romance?

Weylin: *blushes* It’s hard enough staying alive without tangling hearts in the bargain. But I’d like to believe there’s someone out there who might walk beside me, not because the world needs saving, but because they see me. Just me.

Asurei: Romance is a chain with silk threads. I’ve felt passion hot enough to burn cities, but love? That’s a leash I refuse to wear. Still… redemption whispers of more than blood. Perhaps if I could believe in it, I might also believe in love. But I’m not there yet.

Whom do you really hate?

Weylin: Those who silence others, who take without care, who twist power for their own gain while others suffer. The seals breaking didn’t make people cruel; it only showed who they already were.

Asurei: Hypocrites. Liars. The ones who pretend purity while drowning in their own filth. I hate them because I see myself reflected in their deception.

Favourite drink, colour, pastime?

Weylin: Honeyed cider, if I can get it. The deep twilight blue before the stars appear. And lying by a riverbank, watching clouds drag shadows over the fields. It makes me feel like I still belong somewhere.

Asurei: Wine as dark as blood. Black threaded with silver, the colour of moonlight on a blade. And for pastime… watching the powerful stumble. There’s nothing sweeter than seeing the mighty realise they are only flesh and bone after all.

What does the future hold?

Weylin: More than I can guess, and more than I’m ready for. The seals won’t stop breaking, and the world needs someone to stand in the gap. Whether or not I’m strong enough, I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.

Asurei: Blood. Fire. Names whispered in the dark. And perhaps, if I’m brave enough, a path to something beyond death and shadows. A path to redemption. But I won’t lie, that frightens me more than any blade.

Share a secret you’ve never told anyone.

Weylin: Sometimes I whisper to the stones, and they whisper back. They tell me things I don’t understand yet, fragments of truths from before the world was sealed. I haven’t told anyone, not even Nyari. Maybe because once I say it aloud, it will be real.

Asurei: I have stood over the bodies of those I’ve killed and felt nothing. But once, only once, I wept. No one saw, and no one ever will. But it happened. And sometimes I wonder if that was the truest version of myself, the one I’ve buried deepest.


Anne Pengelly writes layered, myth-infused fantasy full of wonder, wit, and heart. When not weaving worlds, she tends to her dog Fleur and a glittering eucalyptus tree in Australia.

You can meet Weylin & Asurei on the page of Stone & Word and its sequels in the Outerlands series.

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