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Vesi Vanhin Voitehista 3Without Salugi and her intimidating shadow, the candles seemed more subdued, like a workforce five minutes before quitting time. As Shoe passed them, they seemed to flicker. He waved a hand at Taivuttaa. "You're the leader of this little expedition, this entitles you to walk in front of me."
"It would also help us get this over with quicker. Or weren't you the one who was so keen on getting out of the Apartment of Pain?"
Taivuttaa reached up to scratch his head, then reminded himself that he couldn't be sure when his hair would be completely clean again, and dropped his hand at his side, allowing his arm to swing like a pendulum. His arm's shadow cut through the candlelight in small clumsy arcs. "Apartment of Pain?"
"Heh. That's right, you're still pretty new to ol' Eszme." Shoe leaned against the wall and rubbed his palms together, as though he were plotting something in a cold room.
How Not To Be SeenHis first thoughts had been confusion and, oddly, anger that she had not known Ba Ki by name. He'd rarely spoken it aloud since leaving, and each time he had been heard saying it, trouble had followed nearly immediately. The thickening of her accent and peculiar twisting of grammar had thrown him off so that he'd barely understood some of her initial rant.
However, all of it promptly shelved as she translated herself. He could see that she was blushing, but was somehow even more certain that he was twice as red in the face. Being called 'babyling' by Griselda was the closest he had come to being termed dear by anyone, and it was almost more an insult to call a man that, in his eyes. And Mychael had just told him he was a man by the dwarf calendar, after all.
What could be drawn from any of this?
He rubbed his arm and looked around the room, as if it might offer him an answer or some kind of guidance. All he saw was earth
Go Do Your HomeworkIf someone had been able to extract the entire untainted truth from PDQ's fuddled mind, they would have been disappointed in the half-finished result. Although he could no longer use the word vedis in his thoughts since explaining his fear to Mychael, which was not surprising, the word also seemed completely separate from urylai, rather than existing as a darker side. The two sat in disconnected thoughts, holding up to comparison without offering any similarities. Perhaps he shouldn't have worried about that, as mostly he thought of her by name.
The air and general dynamic of the room was thicker with Griselda shuffling at the far end. There were only two beds, stocky soft things that seemed so perfect despite their clunky newness that he couldn't help allowing credibility into what he was being told.
Griselda drew the axe off of the strap ellipsing from her shoulder to the opposite hip. The blade glinted, reflecting the sparse lig
Vesi Vanhin Voitehista 2There didn't appear to be any lights mounted from or inside the ceiling, but the apartment was still relatively well-lit, thanks mostly to small table-lamps and candles that littered nearly every available space. None of the lamps matched, but the candles seemed to have the same origin. Each of them was the width of two or three fingers, and a swirl of two colors. Taivuttaa leaned towards one, watching the flame flicker over the frozen combination of burnt caramel and creamy beige.
"I just don't like the dark," Salugi muttered behind him. At least, he thought that was what she'd said. She didn't seem to be speaking directly to him.
He straightened as much as his shoulder would allow, fighting the urge to lean against something. The apartment wasn't particularly opulent or luxuriant, but it was very tidy with no sign of poverty. He held his arms close to himself and hoped that he wouldn't be offered a seat.
What'd You Say?At first PDQ couldn't understand why Mychael was attempting to comfort him. Certainly he was nervous, even fearing for his life a littledwarves were not known for hospitality or for tolerating the very tallbut he wasn't having a fit or anything. He nearly whispered as much, but an itch distracted him. For a moment he thought it was in his wrists, but then he realized it was the metal. It yearned, for a different shape, a sharper form.
That of an axe.
He clenched his fists and tried to ignore it. There were many axes all around them, being carried by each of the dwarves, with Griselda as the only exception. The others appeared to defer to her, almost subconsciously, even though some seemed almost embarrassed. She hid it from him, from all of them, but it reflected off of the others. She was a leader, and a leader of dwarves with no axe seemed half a dwarf. PDQ slid the bra
Vesi Vanhin Voitehista 1Street lamps blazed holes into the night sky like smoldering cigarettes being pressed into dark blue linen paper. Along with the lights of the city that hugged the town's limits, they intimidated the stars into staying home. This victory of the unnatural luminence gave the short street and the houses lining it a harsh glow. Every edge blurred, dithering into the yellow-orange lights that seemed almost solid. Taivuttaa stood in the middle of the street, staring down a single-level house that would have been a dim yellow in the sun. He sighed, releasing a tired breath of profanity like an afterthought.
He'd been tossed out of that house too many times to be angry about it anymore, far too often to waste time complaining. It would have almost been funny if the nights hadn't started getting so humid. The stink of the city was worse at night than it was during the day, against almost all reason. Just thi
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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