The Setting of Sirith

It was deja vu as the ground rushed towards me, and my wrist ached in remembered pain as I anticipated the final crunch. Fordrellon’s spell — for I knew it had to be Fordrellon, though I didn’t understand why he would aid the terrible akor’mari — had torn the dragon glamour from me, and I could see another such bolt on the way: a hot white light gaining on me as I plummeted to the ground.

But the light drew close, and rather than the screaming of a thousand vengeful demons in it, I felt only calm, a little like sinking into a pillow — a pillow that would soon press my throat closed. I grew drowsy, impossibly weary, and I only wondered why I never hit the hard earth before I fell into a sleep.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.