Color of Awe 8.03 – Erik

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Rage is a veil that hides beauty from men.   

— ANCIENT PROVERB

You must kill him. Asbjörn giggled. Yes, kill him before he can kill you. Only the dead can’t harm you. The voice in Erik’s skull turned introspective. But then if that’s true, what am I? What are you? Are we not both dead? Continue reading “Color of Awe 8.03 – Erik”

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Color of Awe 8.02 – Erik

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Man are leaves and life is the rotten tree from which they hang.   

— ANCIENT PROVERB

The good weather continued for the rest of the day, the sun a touch hotter than comfortable. Some complained that now the Dark One was trying to melt them out of their armor. A scant few clouds drifted across the sky, barely enough to provide any shade. Wind lashed the wet banners until they dried and once again flapped. By the time they stopped for the day the sun was already beginning to set. Erik was surprised at how far they had already traveled. Continue reading “Color of Awe 8.02 – Erik”

Color of Awe 8.01 – Hanna

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We all become mud after the autumn rain.   

— ANCIENT PROVERB

Hanna lifted the leather window curtains to peer outside the carriage. Under a faltering drizzle, a small army of men worked their way down the well-maintained road leading from the outpost on the southern side of the Rin Mountains, small and dark against the northern sky. There was nothing interesting to see so soon after leaving Hjörtur, but Erik was out there somewhere. Despite the rain, brilliant sun rays shone through the thinning gray clouds, yet the light did nothing to remove the recent gloom from her heart. Continue reading “Color of Awe 8.01 – Hanna”

Broken Things 7.09 – Erik

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Most of the monsters you will meet look just like you and me, son.   

— VILHELM ITO, TO ERIK

Erik hoped that his relationship with Hanna would go smoothly, and since his first resurrection, it seemed to do so. He hoped that it would even as she glared up at him from the bed, clothed in a sheer, white nightgown, cheeks flushed with rage, eyes manic with pain. Lightning crackled outside the arrow-slits, bright enough to battle with the glow of the fireplace. Wind lashed the curtains and rain wailed out in the night, turning the silence into a mournful dirge. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.09 – Erik”

Broken Things 7.08 – Hanna

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They say the Howling Sea is a collection of humanities tears, and on days like this one I can’t help but believe it.   

—  HANNA ITO, TO ERIK

Hanna’s heart clutched with sorrow as she slammed the anteroom door in Erik’s face. The hallway blurred. She blinked away tears and ran. It was happening again, betrayal and lies. Her green slippers smacked against the hard stone, echoing with each frantic palpitation. The torches that adorned the walls were a collection of moon shards, cold enough to freeze magma into ice, distant enough that their chill was barely perceived. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.08 – Hanna”

Broken Things 7.07 – Leon

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Pain and suffering are endless pools, no matter how deep you descend, there is always more.   

—  ANCIENT PROVERB

A flicker of movement caught Leon’s eye, and he peered past the twitching Mrethren. A handful of Gray Skins were moving slowly toward them, only a few at the start, but soon their numbers swelled and spread out to surround the edge of the wardstones protective bubble. A muted buzz rose from their alien throats. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.07 – Leon”

Broken Things 7.06 – Leon

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I’m not afraid; my feet just like shaking is all.

— LEON, TO MORGAN

Walking up the underground staircase of the ancient temple, Leon could not help but tremble. In his short life, he had been through many harrowing experiences, but none of them equaled the terror of following Mrethren Örk by himself. Large indistinct shapes watched him from darkened doorways, the sound of their harsh breaths rising above his careful footsteps. Continue reading “Broken Things 7.06 – Leon”