Writing Practice

Olishier raised her sword and caught the eye of the storm. As her blade struck the ebon iris, incantations spewed from her mouth in the thousand voices of her ancestors. The voices slid into lethal forms, writhing in their ascent before piercing the roiling dark. Clouds cried blood and screamed curses in violent painful thunder, while the heavy air trembled and prayed. Beneath Olishier's torn feet, stones cracked and crumbled, releasing their histories in shadowlight runes. Olishier held her breath, her veins pulsing and swimming under her liquid skin.

“Send me home, daughter,” the inner universe cried, its warm ether tendrils entwining around Olishier’s heart. “You must let me go.”

From the mountaintop citadel Barithe vi Addum, Fiedhar cast his mind’s eye westward, over the whisper plains and woodlands of Vondlunde, beyond the snakeskin river Sair and its hundred impossible veins, and affixed itself upon the carnage-strewn plains of Othrur, below skies awashed with dusk and death. Upon seeing the defiant Olishier and the typhoon of magic battering her mortal body, Fiedhar could only shake his head. Your love is fractious, warrioress, and you will not succeed. You know that your mother must make the crossing. Love her, yes, Olishier, but grant her rest.

An intense shuddering burst from within the young swordswoman, borne from the desparate struggling of a captive soul caught in a web of cold chains and equally desparate grief. The fiery runes spun in dizzying arcs, melding and melting into smoke-washed faces, harried yet exuberant at their release and looking deep into Olishier’s eyes. Other runes wove into crooked arms and talons, tossing in the maelstrom like frail branches in whirlwinds, before embracing the pillar of light thrusting from Olishier’s mouth, and diving through towards the her prison heart.

Olishier could only shed tears as the talons raked and clawed, seeking to penetrate every defense she possessed. She reached inward, chasing through the cavernous landscape of her confused and frustrated self, stumbling through her thick quagmire gloom towards her heart.

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