0.3 - Remara
Where there had been a symphony was now a cacophony. The choir reeled in shock, trying to find their places. The heart was stunned to silence.
Read moreWannabe writer with hobby of art. Stay and you'll glimpse a small piece of my heart.
Where there had been a symphony was now a cacophony. The choir reeled in shock, trying to find their places. The heart was stunned to silence.
Read moreCalm settles over Arc like a shrouded cage, shutting his swift-growing fury up into a little prison. In this moment, he is just a wingless chick and this is the corpse of his mother.
Read moreThe melody follows him under, into the dark. At first, it is Aria's voice lullabying him to sleep as she used to in the nest they shared as winglings. It cradles and soothes him, rebuffing ill memories and promising safety. Rest.
Read moreWildspeech enters, placing his sun-dot in a wall-sconce and filling Eldest Stem's home with light. A few terse sentences of explanation later, things begin to move. Nutte Wildspeech is woken and dispatched to shuttle individual coals to Remara.
Read moreTenderly, Wildspeech grasps the translucent shaft of a primary feather that came loose one day when he collided with a confused starling.
Read moreFor the first time, a voice in the symphony fumbled a note, then ceased singing.
Read moreHe freezes, his legs bent to run. There are too many things to respond to—her use of that name, her claim that his family still thinks of him, her sudden reappearance here, or the fact that she has collected even more questions for him.
Read moreThe rattle of Wildspeech's door jerks him into stupefied waking. The door jumps and jolts against the storage shelves he braced there, each blow shoving them back. He burrows deeper into the fragments of moss and feathers.
Read moreThis thing changes its face in ways that suggest it isn't a solid creature. If it isn't a solid creature, it can likely reshape itself. If it can reshape itself, it must know next to nothing if it looks like that.
Read moreHis eyelids slam open. For two seconds, he is sure that he has slept too long. Nobody woke him. The hammer is coming for his legs.
Read moreOnce, there was nothing.
Read moreExhaustion drags at his movement. His body cries out for rest. If he stays still for another minute, he will curl up and sleep until morning. Until the Merchant marches in.
Read moreHe crouches in his lair under the left side of the desk. Remara told him that the whole room is dark except near her, but he feels more comfortable knowing he's beneath a structure, deep in its all-encompassing shadow. He will enter from here.
Read moreThe door slams, jolting Ha'Drak awake. He jerks, nearly tilting the statue he's curled around, but he stays put, his heart pounding. The air pressure changes as something large looms over him.
Read moreFever takes Ha'Drak within a day. There is badness in his eyesockets and he has to kill it. With rapidly-weakening limbs, he lowers himself down the bookcase one shelf at a time.
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