In the very early 1990s, I wrote a fantasy epic entitled Midnight’s Dawning. Ever since, I’ve toyed with a word-one rewrite. Here’s the very first chapter roughly redrafted … * Arim bolted down the winding mountain trail, knowing that if he was late getting back he would be flogged – if not worse. Although he was only twelve, he was still a slave, which meant the Tybrans would discipline him if they saw fit.      The sun beat down on his head and his breath was ragged in his chest. It was only morning, but already scorching – although it was always hot in the morning. He slowed down as…