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Private  - In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.

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Martell
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#3


I do not pilfer victory.



He does not expect the blink and stare of that third eye.

The unicorn is not a religious man (he has seen too many more wars than gods). But his people were always superstitious, and magic is a curse word to him, an abomination of power granted to those who should not have it. Who did not deserve it, who did not have the discipline required to wield it.

And so, although he tells himself otherwise, he reads meaning (for good or ill) into the fact that it is she he turned to. A little shiver of unease runs like a cold finger down his spine, but nothing shifts in his green eyes.

After a moment, he turns back to the book, spine stretched and pages weighted like an animal skin pegged for drying. With the tip of his bone-white horn, he taps Isra’s name. “I want to know why she lives,” slowly, precisely, he indicates two more names on the pale page: Acton. Raum. “And why they did not.”

He is asking for the how of it. The story there in ink. But what the unicorn truly wants to know - what he must know - is why.  
 

@Apolonia











Messages In This Thread
In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart. - by Martell - 10-30-2020, 08:45 PM
RE: In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart. - by Martell - 11-16-2020, 03:24 PM
RE: In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart. - by Martell - 12-12-2020, 10:09 PM
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