The tinnabulum chimes cascaded overhead, marking the hour of Belannos’s ascension and the alignment of the heavenly bodies. Vienne stood at the center of an old magister’s tower, stripped of all its furnishings to bare black bones of basalt and granite.
Everything was as she had imagined it would be. She wore her deepest-dyed robes, embroidered in blue and violet, her hair pinned in a net of golden thread. The materials of her Founding—raw marble, quartz, teak—were
Short story written in September 2016 for ThinkerX's Top Scribe VI Challenge.
THE INNER ABYSS
Vienne woke to blackness where there should have been moonlight. A great shape crouched over her bed. She could not breathe under its numb weight, nor could she move, for none of her limbs would obey. She could only stare into the golden eyes of a panther, gleaming in the darkness.
A daemon. Its paws felt solid on her chest, tangible
Crickets sang. A breeze stirred the languid vines and night-drawn flowers around her. Dusk lay in blue-green shadows over the courtyard.
She stood where she had awoken: in Lord Haroun's garden, panting as though she were pursued. Niryah's Light shone white and brilliant in her cupped hands—it had freed her from that tainted sleep.
In the frisson of the magic in her blood, she knew that something was very wrong. She stepped forward, listening to
Short story written in March 2016 for ThinkerX's Top Scribe I Challenge.
In the Shade of the Cypress Tree
"They call Dhar Jinan an offal pit," Lord Haroun wrote. "But in this judgment, they do not consider that refuse makes the most fertile soil, and from it may arise a fragrant garden. The poorest of men are most eager to work, if they are given fair chance. How many skilled craftsmen and wisewomen have been lost to the cruel
Short story written in October 2015 for Legendary Sidekick's Jerk MC Challenge.
She was born into a deep green pool, born with the hunger of the Kin and the knowledge of the Riverdaughter. The world below the water-veil was silent and dim, and the world above glittered and seared her mouth and throat. In the depths, the old ones swam above a carpet of black silt and bones. They were so thin that they were like ripples in the water,