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.
Malika woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. Morduth was in her hand, ablaze with blue flame that crept up over her hand and wrist. As always the flame did not harm her. Rather it brought her comfort and warmth, and she reveled in its light.
Mistress, Morduth said into her mind. Strangely the sword sounded sleepy, as if it too had been sharing in her slumber. Mistress, it repeated, are you alright? Where's the danger?
"Nowhere, Morduth," she voiced quietly. "It was only a dream, a nightmare. The danger is purely of my own mind this time."
Mmmmm, the sword hummed and then went silent, apparently content with the response. The blue flames extinguished, and Malika relinquished her grip on the hilt.
It was then that she noticed the reeve sitting in a dark corner nearby, watching her with veiled eyes, his expression dark and troubled.
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Malika slept restlessly that night. Her sleep was plagued by dreams of shadows and flames, the yello…Restless Dreamer
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