silverwinglie

The door burst inward with a crash and the crack of splintering wood. Guards piled through the doorway shoulder to shoulder, hands on hilts. At the sight of them, the boy leapt up with a yelp, flying into his mother's arms. She folded him tightly in her grasp, glaring at the intruders. “What is the meaning of this?” the father demanded, rising from his chair. The boy twisted in his mother’s grasp, turning to peer at the intruders with widened eyes as she knit her fingers tighter, digging them into the fabric of his clothing. “By authority of the mayor,” the first of the guards began, “this woman and the b

A fugue had fallen over Grei. His Essence was plied against his will until reason surrendered and he’d begun to walk. The forest was dense, the footpath lost long ago, but the call dragged him on, nagging his dreams when he rested. He took in his surroundings through the fog: trees growing close together in strange forms, with leaves of glass and gold and jewel, their trunks twisted ivory and silver mist, and draped in silk woven by spiders of copper filigree. They moved around him, whispering and reaching out with fingers of smoke that scratched against his armor, then drew back in sorrow. His footfalls were soft over the many-colored

Standing there alone, I found that all sense abandoned me, and I lifted my hands dumbly, staring uncomprehendingly at the deep, bloodied lines that scoured them. For several moments, I could not recall what had happened, what had brought me to be standing there, shuddering in the early light of morning. Ah, but it came back quickly enough, and I raised my hands, pressing the slashed palms to my eyes and digging my fingers into my hair, unable to scream with the horror of it, but pulling my lips back and baring my teeth in a rictus of pain. The blood stung my eyes, but it was better than the scene before me which, even now, I felt compelled to