Feb 15

Chapter 7: Part 12 – Low Blows

It’s not often that asura are lost for words, myself included. In fact, faced by Spark, Weir, and most importantly Souleater, I very much wanted to summon a witty retort. Instead, I could only stare, fear and anger warring in my chest. I’d seen what Souleater could do; once had been enough. Worse, I’d genuinely thought Spark might have changed, might have learnt from her mistakes. Seeing such evidence to the contrary was a veritable punch to the gut.

“What,” I finally managed, “are you going to do with that?”

Spark reached into the case, putting a hand on the weapon almost lovingly. “I wondered what you’d done with this.”

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Feb 13

Chapter 11: Part 9 – Importance of a Weapon

We eventually had an isolated fire burning in the ring Angel had created in our corner. I never realized all of the things we would have to give up coming here, I only ever had an idea. I had always been told that you couldn’t truly know what you had until it was gone. Tobih pulled out a few pieces of bread from one of our bags. It wasn’t until then that I saw Angel had been carrying Ragnvaldr’s bag with her.

“He’s out there without supplies or food isn’t he?” I said it before realizing that the words had even left my mouth.

Angel waited to take a bite of the bread that she had previously meant to, “He is norn. All he needs is his weapon to survive.” She bit into the bread and used her other arm to throw another piece of wood onto the nearly dying flames.

We all sat there wearing our battle ready armor and bloodstained clothes. There wasn’t any real way to tell exactly when we’d need to move again or if a risen would stumble into the cave to find us. There was no setting up of cots, no pulling out blankets, no cooked meals, and no changing of clothes. The time we had was surely limited and time is what any activity would take.

“Claire.” Angel stopped eating and looked to me.

“What is it?” I crossed my arms over my knees and stared directly at the norn.
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Feb 10

The Eternal Blade Saga Book 2, Chapter 1: Torment

A cold, late autumn breeze blew in from the bay and whistled in through my partially open window. My skin prickled, but I made no move to cover myself up with my bedding that I had tossed aside in the middle of the night. Every inch of me felt like dead weight and I had no motivation to fight against it. My eyes ached from lack of sleep and I wanted desperately to give them rest, but every time I closed them, I saw their faces and I heard their voices. I couldn’t escape the reminders of my mistakes. They were everywhere.

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Feb 08

Chapter Twenty Three: Restraint

 

Garfas was dead, Daniel had betrayed me, I was surrounded by the fringe, and the secros were nowhere to be found. My emotions were… rampant. A twisting nether of desire, sorrow, anger. Sides of me were wrestling with each other, trying to decide what was the best course of action. It was painful, so very painful. In the end they had settled on fighting, fighting and letting him take over, at least briefly. The present was pushed aside by the past.

 

“You want a fight, Daniel,” I could feel a smile creep up my face. “Or would you prefer Iresh?” He seemed taken aback by my sudden change in demeanor. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, in moments all that will matter will be your screams… the delicious sounds of your screams.” He took a step back, as if realization dawned on him. There was panic in his eyes, a part of me, the part currently in control, reveled in that fact. He didn’t want to waste any more time however, he lunged. The metallic clang of steel echoed through the fields, he had parried successfully, my blade was shoved aside. He retaliated by stabbing his sword towards me, I stepped aside and managed to dodge. It was a slow attack, almost too slow, it stirred the logical side within me.

 

It was shoved back to the deeper areas of the mind as soon as I saw the blade come at me once again. A horizontal swing, I answered by aligning my blade to block, as soon as the blade touched mine I changed the angle, forcing him along the path of my blade. Finally, I had an opening. I balled my hand into a fist and drove it into his stomach. The blow caused him to groan out in pain, wheeze, but not collapse. Instead his body dove backwards, becoming a mere blur. Only then did he allow himself to retch and cough.       

 

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Feb 06

Hide Your Fires I

 

“How old were you?” Elsif asked, thumbing the blade of her knife to test its edge. Her furs rustled as she leaned forward on her log seat, planting her chin in her free hand as she looked at me, wisps of grey hair whipping in the frigid midnight wind. The knife twirled in her free hand, dancing between her fingers. “When you had your first, I mean.”

“My first?” I asked, tightening my cloak around my shoulders to keep the wind at bay. The fire was helping, but the Shiverpeaks were aptly named, and while Elsif’s cabin was only a few dozen metres behind me, she had elected to accept me out here in the woods for some obscure reason. “Twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two?” She repeated, making a soft clicking sound with her tongue. “I suppose it’s young for a human, particularly one of your family.” She twirled the knife once more in her hand before taking a firm grip on it and leaning forward to begin carving from hunk of spitted meat she’d set to roasting. Fluid hissed and steamed as it dripped onto the flames. My stomach growled. It was a rude meal, but after almost three full days of trekking through the snow to find my old mentor I’d grown more than a little tired of the rations I’d packed. “How much do you remember?”

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