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Writing on the Wall CH7Before one of my companions could ask what a sunakake hag actually was, she howled again. It sounded more and more human as she got closer, more like a weeping or cursing. When I'd been a very small child, I had thought that our neighbours were just having a row outside. I hadn't understood why my father had barred the door and boarded the windows.

Then he had left, and I'd found out the reasoning behind a lot of things.

I struggled to stand, first hindered by Noni, then helped. She insisted that I rest, but I turned to her, knowing my eyes were dilating with fear. Old fear made fresh.

"We have to move," I said. "We have to find shel

The Writing on the Wall CH6If anyone had laughed at me then, I would have lashed out and hit him or her, even if Demetrius had tried to stop me. I spun to face him, hands balled into fists. "How long have they been here?!"

He raised his hands in casual surrender, his ruddy face innocent and maddening. "I haven't a clue. If they had come before my father sent me for you, I would have sent you home with them. I promise you that."

I believed him too, blast me. It was all I could do not to weep openly. It was more than I could do not to run for the wide open double doors and tear out past them as fast as I had ever run in my life.

Outside, it was raining. I'd be

The Writing on the Wall CH5It took a remarkably short time to get to the grandmaster's study. With Demetrius leading the way, it seemed almost a straight jump from one hallway to another. Either Noni had been leading me around in circles waiting for me to explain myself and my 'guest' status, or she didn't know her way around half so well as she knew how to appear as though she did.

I had to admit, thinking that it must be the latter gave me a little thrill of humour that I dared not speak aloud. After her tantrum in the garden, I was still a bit wary of her.

Inside the study, though, she fell into a demure lady's silence, her hands clasped delicately in front of

The Writing on the Wall CH4By conditioning and a small stroke of luck, I managed to sleep through dinner. Mostly due to the fact that I was almost literally run off my feet, but it helped that I had exhausted myself trying to find some kind of writing utensil. I'd lost my chalk in the forest, or private park, whatever it was. Chalk was, of course, the best tool for sigil writing. It worked on most surfaces and lasted longer than a pen.

There wasn't so much as an old dusty quill and a scrap of someone's old grocery list. Even the vanity had yielded nothing. An hour after Demetrius had left me to my own devices, and I had searched the whole room over, I would have

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Submitted: May 21, 2008
Image Size: 73.0 KB
Resolution: 251×575

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Going Through a Stageby ~Kid-Apocalypse

Digital Art / Drawings / People

©2008-2013 ~Kid-Apocalypse

For Mayaj -- Ambroise trying to be grunge.

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!

~Mayaj Jun 5, 2008

! This is lovely! I can just see the look on Armand's face! It would be the physical representation of: "yeeeeeeaaaaahhh.....no."

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~Kid-Apocalypse Jun 5, 2008

He can't have been more than twelve or thirteen.

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~Mayaj Jun 6, 2008

How long did it last, I wonder..

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~Kid-Apocalypse Jun 6, 2008

Maybe a year.

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~Mayaj Jun 6, 2008

[wanna caall youuu]

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~Kid-Apocalypse Jun 6, 2008

[the mic is downstairs...i has to get it]

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~Mayaj Jun 6, 2008

kay!

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~Paladin343 May 24, 2008 Hobbyist General Artist

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~Kid-Apocalypse May 25, 2008

Tee hee. Had to do it...

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~Paladin343 May 25, 2008 Hobbyist General Artist

H's trying so hard and not quite making it...

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