{"id":255956,"date":"2026-07-13T14:25:52","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T11:25:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/chosen-of-the-tapestry-the-fralsningdor-chronicles-book-i-cheever-laura\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T14:25:52","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T11:25:52","slug":"chosen-of-the-tapestry-the-fralsningdor-chronicles-book-i-cheever-laura","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/chosen-of-the-tapestry-the-fralsningdor-chronicles-book-i-cheever-laura\/","title":{"rendered":"Chosen Of The Tapestry: The Fralsningdor Chronicles: Book I – Cheever, Laura"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Chosen<\/figure>\n

Bacon and fresh jam. Crisp, clean linens and the scent of a bitter, homemade, herbal ointment that the Looms slathered liberally on her every small cut and scraped knee. Had she scraped her knees again? Climbing a tree, perhaps? It was hard to tell. Her right leg felt numb.<\/p>\n

That didn\u2019t bode well for her tree-climbing theory. Sound came next. Dozens of women chattering. The Looms, of course. Pots and pans clanked down the hallway, and Fran stretched, eyes still closed. She had better get to her chores soon, or she\u2019d meet the business end of Indigo Loom Ka\u2019ara\u2019s wooden spoon. Yet again. But she was so warm and comfortable, and the familiar feel of the abbey\u2019s coarsely woven wool blankets shifted against her skin.<\/p>\n

What day was it? Seventh day? It was too chattery down the hall for it to be First day. Fran raised her hands to her eyes and rubbed, noticing as she did so that they felt crusty with salt and sleep. \u201cShe\u2019s awake.\u201d Now that was a familiar voice, but it definitely didn\u2019t belong in her bedroom in the abbey! If White Loom Ben\u2019net caught Fi\u2019eren sneaking around the abbey grounds again, they\u2019d both get a whooping.<\/p>\n

Fi\u2019eren\u2019s Emph Hesh didn\u2019t seem to mind, and believed that his mischievous nephew deserved any punishment the Weaver\u2019s Looms felt fit to dole out for sneaking around after hours with their ward. Fran struggled to open her eyes, panicking. But the man settling down on the edge of her bed was most certainly not the gangly silversmith\u2019s apprentice. This man was grown and strong and sure.<\/p>\n

His crooked, masculine nose was covered in more stark freckles than the boyish version of him had had, and his dark green eyes glittered with flecks of gold, more wary and wise than his younger self had ever been. Scars littered his face and hands, evidence of years in the forge, not as a mere apprentice, but as a practiced smith in his own right.<\/p>\n

A fresh scar, with mended skin but still colored an angry red, slashed across his right cheek. The muscles beneath his sleeves told the same story of dedicated work, and he was looking at her not like the wild teenage boy who had stolen her kisses in the woods, but like a mature man who had grown and built and stood by her side for years.<\/p>\n

A decade of love and loss and lies came crashing back to her with that look, but the past few days remained hazy. \u201cFi\u2019eren?\u201d she croaked. Her voice sounded dry and rough, and Fi\u2019eren motioned to someone that Fran couldn\u2019t see. A moment later, Belle, her sweet precious girl, appeared with a glass of water.<\/p>\n

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First published by Cleavebond Publishing 2024 Copyright \u00a9 2024 by Laura Cheever All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination.<\/p>\n

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. Laura Cheever asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. Laura Cheever has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.<\/p>\n

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner to train artificial intelligence technologies or systems. Scripture quotations are from the ESV\u00ae Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version\u00ae), \u00a9 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. ESV Text Edition: 2025. The ESV text may not be quoted in any publication made available to the public by a Creative Commons license. The ESV may not be translated in whole or in part into any other language.<\/p>\n

Used by permission. All rights reserved. First edition This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com 1kitap1.com\/en For my God, who inspired the Weaver, and for my husband, who inspired the king. \u2014 Soli Deo Gloria \u2014 1kitap1.com\/en Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.<\/p>\n

Genesis 2:24 1kitap1.com\/en Foreword An introduction to gobbledygook, as spoken by the goblins of Fralsningdor: Fi\u2019eren (fee-air-in) born of light Da\u2019ahteach (dah-ah-teach) chosen of the pattern Enesh (eh-nesh) prince Ene\u2019esha (en-a-esh-ah) princess Di\u2019isha (dih-ish-ah) father Mi\u2019isha (mih-ish-ah) mother Noma\u2019ai (nome-ah-i) thank you Rachon (rach-on) son Rema (rem-ah) daughter Pachen (pach-en) brother Peshni (pesh-nee) sister Emph (emf) uncle Empha (emf-ah) aunt Resh (resh) courage Faelei (fay-lee) midsummer moon 1kitap1.com\/en Prologue Melnda A discordant clash of goblin silver and elven steel rang through the hallways of Rosh Manth.<\/p>\n

The royal fortress was cold, sour with the smell of sweat and fear, and slick with puddles of blood in various shades of red and brown. Magical blood. Needlessly spilled to satisfy the Itheireelan elves\u2019 endless lust for power. It was dark, well past the second hour when the ambush began, and no one had had the time or the wherewithal to light a lantern or a fire before the carnage commenced.<\/p>\n

Only the pale light of the full moon trickling in through the lofty windows offered any illumination with which to see.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “Chosen of the Tapestry: The Fralsningdor Chronicles: Book I” by Cheever, Laura, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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