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Silver Witch of the Black Sands (a short story)

Discussion in 'Everything Else!' started by CynicalWaltz, May 22, 2017.

  1. CynicalWaltz

    CynicalWaltz May the Goddess Sekhmet grant you a swift death.

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    Well I've been looking for somewhere to post this....and I thought why not here where I value the opinions of my fellow members? (Except for Warlock....because your a BB Spy!) Any who. this is the first of many. If it's too long let me know and I'll cut it short. Enjoy!
    *THIS WORK IS NOT TO BE USED OR DISTRIBUTED WITHOUT MY EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION AND IS PROTECTED UNDER COPYRIGHT*


    Chapter One - Strength in Numbers

    Viro was a small and homely town, filled with mediocre but well-built shacks that stood strong throughout the years. The people there were the same as denizens of any town; kind and concerned, loving and welcoming, but always wary of any outsiders. When an unfamiliar, dark skinned male ventured into town that fateful day, neither he nor the townsfolk knew what would happen when he walked into that blacksmith’s shop.

    The boy approached the town at top speed as the sky turned orange and purple, coming to a halt only when he’d finally located the workshop. He unstrapped the large spear on his back and removed the heavy sack of coins and gems from his hip. He set the spear in the rack beside the forge and tossed the burly blacksmith the coin sack. He then unhinged his sword and set it down beside the spear. The blacksmith looked at him quizzically, his bushy eyebrow raised in question of the boy’s sudden and quite rude appearance.

    “Sorry for the timing and I don’t mean to be rude. I don’t expect you to do something because I throw a bunch of coin at you,” he apologized. The smith could sense his sincerity, to which he gave the boy a slight nod. The smith partially extended an open hand, urging him to continue. “The spear requires serious work done to it. I found it in the Hall of Viro, shattered into pieces. A few weird things happened, and I managed to get the pieces to stick together with magic, but I sheathed it to make sure it stayed that way. How fast do you think you can mend it?”

    The smith looked at him with wide and unbelieving eyes, before slowly standing to his feet and reaching for the spear. As the blacksmith appraised the spear, the boy’s eyes immediately began searching the shelves for something of value to grab; he’d more than enough coin to cover the expenses. His eyes came to a rest on an old pair of daggers that lacked any identifying markers except for the detailed pommels; the pure silvered image of a lion’s roaring head.

    “There’s more than enough gold and precious stones in there to cover the cost for the silver to re-forge the spearhead and the sword I no longer want. It, too, found purpose in clearing my path back to the surface. It’s served its purpose, but those daggers,” he pointed at them, “I want those. You do what you will with the rest, but the spear has to take top priority.” The blacksmith could see that he was serious and he nodded. The boy approached them with haste, however, the closer he grew to them, the more their power could be felt.

    When he was within mere inches of it, he could feel something lying dormant beneath their physical form. The daggers were massive compared to the normal fare; these blades were more than a foot in length and oddly fashioned. He tentatively picked them up, eyeing the rust encrusted on blades as dark as death’s robe. As motes of dust swirled about him, he felt something reaching out from the blades and into his mind.

    “Be careful of those blades, boy. Just like this spear, those blades have a mind of their own. Those blades are made from black gold and that spear is made from black silver. You ever heard of the Goddess of Yore?” The boy shook his head and the smith continued, “Those two weapons are said to hold terrible power. When my old man worked this kiln, back when I was a wee bit, there was a deadly scary woman that came in with those same daggers.” The smith unsheathed the spear and with strong and deft fingers he slowly spun the shaft in his hand, “Her spear was a frightening thing, a straight head spear as black as the night was cold. This spear head and your daggers are beyond my capacity to understand, but for reasons either unknown to my family or lost to time, only this kiln can repair them. I remember he’d said it was something to do with where this town was situated on the continent.

    “Those two blades are the last known weapons to ever have been made with black gold and silver. As far I’m concerned, boy, I can have it done in 3 hours. This spear eats whatever light it encounters and because my forge is fueled by both coal and magic, it does something special with this metal. Be careful, though, wherever it is you plan on going with those daggers, boy, nothing but peril is at the end of that road.” The smith turned away from the boy and began to prepare himself and his kiln for the most trying moment of their lives. The boy headed towards the exit, but stopped just at the threshold.

    “Whatever happened to the woman who brought it, and what did she look like?”

    The smith didn’t turn his head, but instead fiddled with a box opposite the kiln, pulling raw silver ore from a large bag as he answered him. “What I can say for sure is that there were three odd characteristics about her; she wore her hair in long white dreadlocks that stopped at her shoulders, her dreadlocks sported black silver trinkets in them that were as silent as a graveyard at night, and her entire eyeball from, lid to lid, was as blue as the sea is treacherous.” He paused, holding the spear inches from the flame before asking one last question, “are you sure you’re making the right decision?”

    The boy remained motionless at the door. A heavy silence fell over them like a wool blanket and the smith knew at that moment just how serious the boy was. He slowly opened the door, before stepping out into the evening air. He inhaled deeply, a crisp and powerful wind blew through town towards the hall he’d just come from. The daggers grew warm against his palms as a faint whisper filled his mind. He turned to glance at the smith once more before cracking a smile. The smith’s eyes widened in both fear and surprise, for just as her eye was blue that day, a piercing red pinprick of light shone deep inside the darkness of his iris.

    “As sure as death.”
     
    Last edited: May 23, 2017
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  2. Abcidee

    Abcidee Icefeather

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    *eats popcorn*
     
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  3. Ghost

    Ghost Questionable

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    it looks very gud
     
  4. CynicalWaltz

    CynicalWaltz May the Goddess Sekhmet grant you a swift death.

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    The Hecatian Empire/ Agency Zero
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    xMiseryx (Korean Server) /// TrueMisery (Galaxy)
    Chapter One (cont'd)
    (sorry for the edit probs. hard to edit myself and don't have anyone to help me.I does what I can.)

    Nathan had wandered the old, decrepit Halls of Viro many times without any sense of danger or apprehension. This time, however, he knew that with the daggers in his possession, something was bound to change. The sky was bruised purple and orange, heralding the moon’s imminent ascension above the horizon and the beautiful light it would spread across the land. He raised his hand to his eye and rubbed away at the burning sensation behind them. The pain wasn’t unbearable or even abnormal in his opinion, instead, it almost felt… right, in some inexplicable way.

    Nathan felt like an idiot for not buying sheaths for his weapons. In his haste to be cool and mysterious, he’d forgotten to prepare for his descent back into the Hall. He wanted to delve deeper into the tombs, maybe even find out what happened to the owner of that spear. It had taken him over two hours to find the scattered shards and even longer to reassemble them to use his facile magical skill. Once he’d managed to meld them together, he set off in search of the proper sized scabbard for a spear that size. The spear was the same length as his forearm but half as wide. When he’d held the blade up to admire his handiwork, he realized that though the steel seemed to be black on the surface, at an angle it took on a slightly silver hue. It was as if there was a thin layer of silver embedded directly beneath the top layer of metal.

    As he slowly examined the wondrous and foreign metal, he ended up slicing his finger open. The cut was deep, but there was no sting of pain. Instead it felt as though his wound was being fed on. Upon closer inspection, he could see that his blood was slowly being drained from the wound and into the blade. As the blood trailed down the sharp edge, it began to thin until it disappeared. Silver designs of ancient script he’d never ever seen before began to trace themselves into the black metal and a low hum began to fill the air.

    He was dead set on determining the origin of the sound, but it seemed to come from everywhere at once. The more he tried to throw logic and reason into the equation, the more uphill the battle became for him. He glanced down at the spearhead in his hand, only to see something in the reflection that frightened him into stillness; the visage of an ancient Goddess revered as both legend and truth by the entire content. Beneath the headdress fashioned from the head of a lioness, he saw the smile and timeless of eyes of the one and only Goddess of War, Sekhmet. He stared at the sight of her until she moved out of view, which prompted him to search for her. He turned to see no one behind him and relief washed over his body, though, it was short lived.

    He turned towards the spear to continue examining it, only to find that the silver hue beneath the black metal had begun to glow. The spear slowly pulled away from him and he released it. As he stood there in awe, the dimly lit room suddenly filled with an ominous wind and every source of light went out at once; except for the spearhead. It floated higher into the air, and Nathan slowly stood up from his crouched position, his eye following it intently. As the light intensified, he slowly began to see the physical manifestation of the Goddess slowly emerge from the darkness.

    She was taller than him, so tall in fact that as she sashayed towards him, he had to steadily tilt his head upward. When she stood opposite the shard, he could fully see her in all her glory; her muscles were solid and well defined, but her curves were soft and inviting. Her garments were robes made from what looked like cotton but had an evident silver sheen to them. Beneath the flowing robe, she wore a long form fitting dress that split mid-thigh. Her skin was the color of amber and her eyes were as black as the room around her. She wore a thick silver necklace with a large golden lionhead medallion that hung precariously atop her bosom. The lion’s maw was opened into ferocious roar, a true symbol of this Goddess and her endless ferocity.

    She smiled at him beneath her headdress and he couldn’t help but smile back. He looked harder, trying to see into her eyes but she lowered her head and shook her head gently. Her modest clothing wasn’t what he had expected a Goddess to wear, but as a warrior, he could understand her choice.




    “Nathaniel Deltris,” she said, her lips still but the eyes of her headdress stared directly into his own, “I am grateful to you. For you have done a spectacular deed for me. I owe to you my assistance, as well as the life of my Vassal. Without me, she is empty and silent, with me, she is whole and ferocious. Prove yourself and gain favor.”

    Another brisk and ominous wind whipped through the room and Nathan closed his eyes to it. When the wind abruptly died, Nathan opened his eyes and the Goddess was gone. Nathan was dumbfounded and noticed immediately that the spear was in his hand, whole and sheathed into a scabbard made of the same metal as the blade. The shaft, too, was made of the same inexplicable material and as Nathan replayed the previous event in his mind, the same voice reached out to him, seemingly through the spear.

    Nathan was already leaning towards following her decree and her appearance before him, as unbelievable as it was, was nothing short of divine intervention. He’d unknowingly awoken a Goddess who now expected more from him than he could have ever expected from himself. Despite his own reservations concerning manipulation and the incredulous idea that no one else had found this spear, he followed her directions. As he made his way out of the tomb and up the stairs, he found the loose stones hiding the sack of stones and gems need to temper her broken form. The entire journey back was in silence, yet, Nathan could not help but feel enamored with his passenger. Despite the inherent incredulous nature of the situation, he felt as though it was, indeed, his duty to prove himself to the Goddesses in whom he’d never believed.

    ***

    Nathan now stood at the top of the stairwell leading into the Tombs outside of Viro. He could feel the pulse of the daggers against his palms. They were warm, like sand at high noon, and the handles felt as though they were made especially for his hands. He focused intently on the pulse in the daggers, until he realized the pulse followed a pattern. He slowly raised his fist to his chest and his eyes widened in surprise.

    Well, I’ll be damned. They’re in sync with me? Does this mean that they’ve already chosen me? Then why must I prove myself any further?

    Nathan inhaled deeply before he took to the stairs. As he descended, he steeled himself for whatever may lie ahead. Anxiety began to bubble in the pit of his stomach as the claws of his fear began to dig into the flesh of his heart. The daggers suddenly pulsed with more vigor and the claws retracted. As he passed by the metal braziers lining the walkway, he inspected the daggers further, still awestruck by their physical properties. The daggers were as dark as the shadows that surrounded him but holding them up against the light yielded no result. Light simply would not reflect on the blade and Nathan could do nothing but wonder at the marvel of its unknown mechanics. Nathan neared the large doors leading into the Halls but stopped short when he saw that they were wide open. Who else is here? There wasn’t any sign that a soul had been here since I’d left. There’s no reason for the braziers to be lit, unless someone is lying in wait for me.




    A low hum danced against his ears and he immediately connected the sound to his previous experience with the Goddess Sekhmet. He stood before the door, searching the eerie darkness beyond with ever growing anticipation. He could feel the swelling pressure in the air as the hum turned into a slight ring. Something was there, in the darkness, something unfriendly, and it wanted him dead. The daggers’ pulse strengthened and he slowly began to understand what it meant. It was, in fact, in tune with him and they had chosen him. Sekhmet had sent him to retrieve them and the entity housed within recognized his alliance with her.

    He moved forward into the darkness and the door slammed shut behind him with a deafening crash. He cringed at the sound, but continued forward steadily. The daggers overrode the growing fear and anxiety in him, instead filling him with bravery and courage. His journey back to the room where he found the spear was uneventful, however, the darkness that consumed the Halls was unnatural. The daggers tugged at him with more force than before as he grew closer to the antechamber and even more so as he continued through the long tunnel at its end. As he stepped through the archway at the end of that tunnel, the air grew thick with ill-intent and Nathan immediately found himself on edge, despite the dagger’s efforts.

    He slowly crossed the room, making his way towards the stone circle platform at its center, upon which a figure veiled in darkness stood. This room was lit only by five standing candelabras placed around the circle and further inspection showed their paths, if traced, created a five-point star. The figure stood facing the brazier representing the top of the star and remained unmoving as Nathan grew closer. The air grew thicker with that unyielding pressure the closer he approached.

    Prove yourself worthy of me,” said a voice in his head, followed immediately by the soft whistle of unsheathed metal. The being removed a sword, though he could see no real detail to its form. What fluttered around its form seemed to be a cloak or robe of some sort, yet there were no definite lines to its form. It was a being made of complete shadow, shadow that absorbed every particle of light that touched it. He watched as the creature slowly moved towards him, in total silence, as he fought desperately to move against his own fear. The creature raised its sword and leveled it at Nathan, who was still frozen in place.

    “Have you no courage? Not even with my warmth in your hands? You are mine now, boy, and I expect for you to do with me what must be done.”

    It was that voice in his head again… but why was it here now? Why hadn’t she been as open as Sekhmet was before? Was it because of the blood? Or was it something else?

    “I am the blades in your hand, boy, there is no need to fear me. Fear what stands before you and strike it down. Any who stand before me shall die by your hand.” The voice was cold and unforgiving, but there was an undeniable warmth beneath it that he felt was reserved for him. The voice continued and as he expected, it grew warmer when it addressed him without concern for the threat before him. “Sekhmet sees something in you. I do have a slight inclination towards you, however, you must prove yourself in combat before I accept you.”

    The creature leapt forward, preparing to plunge the sword into his chest. Nathan suddenly felt his body respond to his command and he immediately retaliated. Nathan deflected the incoming blade with amazing speed, but his foe was not phased. It used the change in momentum to launch a roundhouse kick which Nathan just barely managed to block. Nathan was knocked onto his side by the vicious kick, but something within him felt different. It wasn’t the exact same as he felt when he’d held Sekhmet’s spear, but it was close; like a storm versus the calm that comes before it.



    The creature came at him again as Nathan scrambled to his feet. He was caught off-guard but managed to raise his blade in the nick of time. The blade sunk into his foe’s knee and it retracted its limb. Nathan struck out with lightning speed as the foe reeled backwards in mock pain. The beast was wide open and he sunk the blades up to the hilt into the creature’s chest. The sword that it held suddenly burst into smoke and the handle clattered to the floor. The creature slowly began to fade away and the weight Nathan felt against his blades slowly evaporated. Nathan stumbled backwards in shock as the magic that surged through him slowly dissipated. He dropped the blades, but instead of them clanging against the stone, only silence was heard as they too evaporated into the atmosphere.

    “You’ve done well for me. You may need training to better hone your skills, but you are good at following instructions. I believe in you, but do you believe in me?” Her voice had done a total flip-flop. It was now warm and caring with an undertone of cold callousness. On some deep fundamental level, it scared the piss out of him, but he also felt protected. “Feed me and we will be one for all of time. My power and my will shall be yours to use and enforce.”

    Nathan walked to the raised stone circle in the center of the room and stood on it. Ra stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders and her body pressed against his back. Her breasts were heavy, warm, and with her added height, they rested upon the back of his neck and shoulders, which sent a tingle of exhilaration down his spine. It couldn’t be that simple; could it? If his blood was needed for their pact, then what did that mean for himself and Sekhmet?

    “What other strings are attached to this deal. There’s more to this that you aren’t telling me. Everyone knows that sort of power isn’t free. I mean, you barely gave me a taste of magic and I was twice as strong as I’ve ever been. If that was even one-fourth of your true power, then the rest must cost more than just my blood or my subservience.” Nathan stood with his back to her, realizing now that she did not breathe. She was completely motionless against his back, but he didn’t find it weird. What was weird to him was how easily he’d acclimated to this entire situation. He’d had no reason to deliver the spear, or collect the daggers, but he had.

    “Your heart knew what was right, and you could sense we meant you no harm. We only want a worthy vessel to walk this earth in our stead, so that any who seek to destroy it are met with swift and vicious judgment. The Five Sisters and our Mother are here to do what must be done to maintain order. There is no morality, there is only that which will save the world and that which will destroy. My only price is that you serve me with absolute loyalty and that you do as I say, second only to Mother. My will and hers are your only concern.” She paused and he pondered what his answer ought to be but he smiled, knowing damn well what he would say.

    He nodded and her grip around him tightened momentarily, to which an exulted sigh escaped his throat. Her grip suddenly disappeared and Nathan knew what he needed to do. He left the circle momentarily to grab the sword hilt left behind by the shadow creature and returned, gripping it tightly in his hand. He looked at the ground where the creature had stood, and noticed that there was a large circle set in the middle that stood out. There were four circles, one inside another, that were different shades of grey and black. On each ring were small, indecipherable symbols that made his head hurt when he looked at them.

    “Feed me as you fed Sekhmet and we will begin the ritual. I must feed from your blood, and you must pass a test once more to enter our realm. You must again prove yourself, not only to me, but to the Mother and Sekhmet. You will do so for as long as she sees fit. I will provide you a small measure of assistance. Now, slide the handle hilt first into the circle and remain still.”

    Nathan squatted before the circle and slowly inserted the handle into its slot slowly. When it would go no further, a subtle click could be heard and Nathan rose, his head tilted at an angle to watch what would transpire. A low rumble shook him to his very core, though the world around moved not one inch. He’d suddenly felt an impossible weight descend upon him, as though gravity itself were attempting to flatten him like a pancake. Nathan resisted it, his hands now rushing to his knees for support beneath the oppressing force.

    “Kneel!” A voice erupted from everywhere around him! It was heavy, that word, spoken by an authority who expected nothing less than full and unquestioned cooperation. He did not relent to the command. He continued to grit his teeth and fought against the now crippling weight upon his form. His bones had begun to ache and creak, his muscles screamed in agony as he resisted with all his might. He was sure the ground would splinter beneath the weight pressing him downwards but it did not. The pressure suddenly doubled and he hunched over further. He was could feel himself reaching the limit of his ability to withstand pain; his vision swam in and out of darkness and his breathing had become shallow and panicked.

    Nathan swayed momentarily before finally falling forward despite his very powerful desire to resist. The moment his body gave up, the pressure dispersed and vigor filled his body. He caught himself and stood upright, his mind still perturbed by the current situation at hand. The circular dials on the ground began to turn slowly and silently. As they turned, the platform stood on revealed itself to be a lid that lowered and retracted into a large slot just beneath its surface. Beneath this “lid” was a stone staircase that spiral downwards into absolute darkness. Nathan promptly scurried off of the platform, lest he find himself tumbling down a dark flight of stairs.

    As he stood before the staircase that spiraled down into darkness, he no longer felt so sure about this turn of events. The power was amazing, to be able to fight and think so much more clearly under her influence was intoxicating, yet, the more he pondered the price, the less courageous he became. The darkness below was foreboding and he absentmindedly shrank away from it, only to be enveloped from behind once more. The embrace only lasted for a moment before her strong hands turn him around to face her.

    Ra was almost identical to Sekhmet, except her skin was darker, her dreadlocks were longer and colored with stripes of fuchsia, silver and blue. Her headdress, instead of a lioness, was a black cat whose eyes were dotted with golden pinpricks of lights. Beneath the headdress, Nathan knew her eyes were the exact same but he couldn’t bring himself to gaze into them. When he’d stared into Sekhmet’s, he’d only been entranced; but something in his gut told him that if he met Ra’s eyes, he’d be lost in them. There was a fear within him, an irrational fear, that warned him to not stare into her eyes for too long. It was though there was something within those dark depths that would steal from him a valuable treasure he didn’t even know he held.

    “You’ve proven your will in the face of overwhelming power and I am proud. You have exceeded my expectations, Nathan, which I have rewarded with both my praise and presence.” Her words made him blush, which he did his best to hide. He was childishly gleeful that she was praising him, even though he had no true reason to be. He wondered briefly if this was all setup with his limitations in mind to facilitate a more agreeable outcome. His thoughts of doubt and deceit were interrupted as she continued, “My blades are now cleansed of their shaded prison,” She raised her hand palm up, presenting those familiar dark daggers to him, “and they desire your touch. You are their owner, their master, as I am yours. Those weapons are my fangs, unbreakable and swift. Take them and feed them as you fed Sekhmet and only then will our union become insoluble.”

    Nathan eyed her hand and the daggers warily, his ignorance of the price creating insecurity and doubt. He wanted the power; he could return to Hecatia and do something useful for the people he loved so dearly. He could join the Queen’s Guard and protect his home. But at what price? How much will I lose? Nathan couldn’t decide and the warm smile on her lips was slowly dying. Her proud expression steadily morphed and before her lips could begin to curl downwards into an inhuman and frightening fanged grimace, Nathan’s hand quickly but carefully retrieved the blades.

    They were now far more clean and radiant than they were before. The golden sheen that lay beneath the thick upper layer of black metal was brighter than before and the pommels had changed. Where their maws had been empty before, a solid black ball was clasped between their fangs. They too ate every particle of light that touched them and as Nathan suddenly found himself expertly spinning them around in his hands, he realized that he’d forgotten about Sekhmet.

    “Oh crap!” he exclaimed as Ra placed her hands on her wide hips, “I left the spear back in Viro!”

    Ra did not reply, so Nathan briskly turned and headed for the hallways leading topside. Before he could reach them however, Ra stepped out of the hallway in front of him. His eyes widened with surprise at her sudden appearance and when he back away, a massive chill ran up his spine as that familiar warmth and softness stopped him in his tracks. He physically shivered as Ra’s hands traveled up his back and along his spine before stopping atop his shoulders. He suddenly felt something soft, warm and smooth against his neck and the side of his head. It was as though she’d removed her headdress and placed her head on his shoulder just out of his peripheral vision.

    “Don’t worry about that spear. The weapons are physical conduits of our power; no more and no less. We do not reside within them, instead our power is channeled through them. She will be where you are about to venture to. Now, feed me and become one with my power. Only then will you be able to permeate the darkness below.”

    I made a terrible mistake by questioning her faith in me. I’m lucky she didn’t strike me down right there for not fully believing in her choice as I said I would.

    “You are lucky.” The warmth of her embrace disappeared and Nathan was left to make his own decisions, for now. The pressure he’d felt before came back to him, however, this time he did not buckle. Another shiver ran up his spine, as he realized that she’d been listening to his inner monologue. She had parroted his revelation and he now knew that there was no one price for this power and responsibility. He was no longer his own entity, instead he was little more than the proxy for the power of a Goddess; a Vassal.

    “Si vales, valeo.” Ra’s voice entered his mind as a whisper, wholly sweet and genuine.

    Nathan felt power surge through him, along with a newfound understanding for that odd language she’d just spoken. The symbols on the circular keyhole became clear to him and his mind reeled at the massive wave of knowledge that washed over his mind.

    “When you are strong, I am strong…” Nathan said in disbelief. He couldn’t believe that he’d learned an entire language mere seconds after hearing that phrase. Nathan looked at the blades in his fists and made up his mind. He would take her power and use it to do the very thing he’d struggled with for his entire adult life; making decisions. As soon as he’d decided, he flipped the daggers and grasped them by their blades. They bit deeply into his palms and the blood was immediately devoured by the black gold blades. When the blades pulsed in his hands once more, he returned the handles to his palms and took a step towards the stairwell. From below came a soft and flickering orange glow as the black haze that had seemed almost impenetrable only moments ago began to clear. Nathan could smell something aromatic wafting from below those murky depths, something as familiar as it was foreign and it smelled like rosemary.
     
  5. Abcidee

    Abcidee Icefeather

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    *claps*
     
  6. Jaxx

    Jaxx Insignificant Person

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    How long are you planning to make this?
     
  7. CynicalWaltz

    CynicalWaltz May the Goddess Sekhmet grant you a swift death.

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    it's gonna be a series of short stories... someday an entire book that ties all the short stories together.
     
  8. Ozuros

    Ozuros "All you need is Hime" -Ozu 2017

  9. CynicalWaltz

    CynicalWaltz May the Goddess Sekhmet grant you a swift death.

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    maybe.....
     

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