The Frost on her Feathers - Chapter 25
It was the final moments of foredawn, and the firmament lay naked with the lack of stars and northern shimmers. Following Marek’s stabilization, the blazing sphere had carried out an entire cycle — a cycle that lasted as long as the shadow of a flying...
The Frost on her Feathers - Chapter 26
Moonlit eyes carefully observed how the ball of the man’s throat bounced up and down, scanning for the slightest hint of anguish, making sure the man would not choke with the very water that was flowing down his gullet. Uncertainty was driving her...
The Frost on her Feathers - Chapter 29
Marek leaned against the rift’s wall, his very focus lost on the pattern of the blizzard. The fallwind of the heights fought the radiance of a runned blade, the latter held low in the man’s grip, keeping thermic balance throughout Marek’s body. It had...
The Frost on her Feathers - Chapter 28
The sense of neglect had grown unbearable of late; the ongoing rejection stretched to heights not tasted since the passing of its first master. The cage of hardened leather, fettering its unmatched edge as if it were something to be ashamed of,...
The Frost on her Feathers - Chapter 27
Its groans were those of a giant, one whose bones echoed crackedly during dormancy. It bore countless maws, each opening leading to unforeseen depths. It, too, crawled like the slowest of mollusks, the patience on its slither matching that of time...
The Frosts on her Feathers - Chapter 31
The pits of ice had sunk in the most sepulchral quietude. The wind bowed low, as if growing heavy. The giant dared not to snore — it wanted not to rouse _his_ anger. And the skittering, the drums of wars belonging to the horde of the...
The Frost on her Feathers - Chapter 30
“Hooho~ fascinating.” Her words flowed with a ting of amazement. Sigrid was no expert on gems, but it was not uncommon for her to pick up their luster from the merchants’ stands. Yet, as her orbs orbited toward the ovoid stone, caged in rusty iron...
The Frost on her Feather - Chapter 32
There it loomed, lofty and awe-inspiring, the place wherein his future reposed agog; a future held pressed underneath a trap of claws. ‘You’ll recognize it when you see it’ had been Georg’s words; the Governor knew that wasting breath on something...