The Tale of MericHe looked down at the Sanctuary beneath the Eldergleam, tears coursing down his cheeks. The Sisters lay in pools of their own blood, dun-colored robes stained with it. They hadn’t had a chance against those that came for them, who had slaughtered them and Jerbodun and Hahnu. He’d never seen a dragon die before, had never heard of mortals killing them. The Priests were lying; dragons could be as mortal as anyone else when faced with an axe. Barely eleven years old, and he now knew the biggest secret of the dragons. He somehow doubted he’d make it to twelve; his earlier life made him all too aware of the brutal world beyond the Sanctuary.
Numbly, he left the protection of the Tree, walking amongst the corpses of those that had been his friends and protectors for the last few years. Playmates, teachers, surrogate sisters…all dead. All the memories and potential, ripped away. They hadn’t known what to do with him, that night three years ago when he ran from ba
The Briinah's Story, Chapter 50Alone. Alone.
The word echoed in my head, merciless, maddening. Of all the places to be left, I was at the top of a Dovah temple in the middle of the mountains, a place where no one could come and find me except for a dragon. And I was quite done with dragons, thank you very much.
I don’t know how long I sat on the carved stone symbols, waiting for some sign that Brother was going to come back. Hours passed. I watched the sky lighten, the snow clear, and eventually the sun appeared to the east. Exhausted and afraid, wondering every second if I was going to die here in this emptied ruin, I just sat until the sun scooted to the top of the sky.
Once it did, I wrapped my cloak a bit tighter around myself and laid down. I was too frightened to sleep, too worried for Brother alone in Sovngarde, but I needed to rest. My eyes stung and my legs were sore and all the magic I’d been casting the last couple of days had my head pounding.
There was nothing I could do. Nowhere to g
The Day the Story Died
The Day the Story Died
The world was on fire: giant towers of living flame sparked and writhed viciously. The sky was a cloud of hellish black smoke that drained all light from the sky, as a small band ran from the wake of the inferno. The air was now acrid and had long since scorched the lungs of all those who inhaled it, making one of the party who currently ran cough and gasp achingly. It seemed like an eternity that these desolate figures had tried to escape the fires that chased them relentlessly, but as to an exact amount of time, no one could say how long they had avoided it.
Finally, as the group reached a sparse place where the fire had yet to grow, the one who had coughed (a young woman with darker skin) doubled over and choked as the fatigue caught up with her. They had been trying to escape for so long, and so many had already been swallowed up by the accursed death. It was like a night-terror having been realized, making it all the more
Set UpA/N: This chapter is my baby. I've been writing and working on this chapter for over five months. I started this chapter before I really had an outline for the Red series. A lot of the concepts in the Red series are based around this sole chapter.
At first Emma just thought she was losing her knack for the job. She knew there were rogue mercenaries and assassins out there that didn't work for her employers and maybe she was losing her touch so much that, when they needed a hit taken out, they were hiring outside help. But if that were the case, the higher ups would send someone else to do the job and just get rid of her.
It was even more confusing, though, that she was getting the credit for all these jobs someone was beating her to. She silently took it, not wanting to admit someone out there was better than her. Or worse yet, that someone who was better than her was stalking her and she didn't know how to deal with it. Her pride wouldn't let her do