I dabble a little in a lot of things — writing, webcomics, gaming, photography, web design, music, and more. I write code full-time and words in the gaps in between.
Warmth spread through Malika like a breath of fresh air. She sucked air in sharply between her teeth. The sensation was almost painful. Heat spread through her, suffused her, warmed her on a level deeper than merely the physical. It coiled around her broken heart, and while it didn't take the pain away, it did dull it, made it tolerable.
Slowly her weeping began to ebb, her gasping sobs turned into sniffles. She looked up at the holy man, just a ghost of a smile on her lips.
"I didn't know the Flame could do that," she said with a weak voice. "Thank you." She wiped her eyes and face with the hem of her tattered shirt. Her shoulder still ached fiercely, but after the emotional trauma she had been through, after the Flame had eased some of her suffering, the pain in her shoulder was merely an inconvenience.
She pushed herself to her feet then reached down to pluck Morduth from the ground with her good arm. It felt odd to hold it in her off-hand, but still its presence was a comfort.
"What now, holy man?"
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