Sorcerer Part 7

(Continued from Sorcerer Part 6)

The first thing he noticed was the pain. His consciousness started to return and it was there, waiting to slam into him as soon as it was able. Every breath he took he felt the pain spread. His mind was a jumble of the battle. He tried to piece things back together, but the sleepless nights and exhausting days were hard to recount. But the memory of being hit by a spell and falling to the ground started to bubble to the surface.

Sorcerer Part 5

(Continued from Sorcerer Part 4)

She had grabbed a small bucket of water, a cloth, and her sewing supplies from her house. She was much slower getting back to the wounded man since the sun was creeping ever lower, taking the light with it – and she was trying not to slosh all the water out of her bucket. She managed to get a good amount on her skirts, but she would worry about that later.

When she did make it back, she found the man in the same position as before, which was sort of a relief to her. His wounded side was facing up, she hoped she would have easy access. She didn’t know how hard it was to turn a wounded man over.

Sorcerer Part 3

(Continued from Sorcerer Part 2)

Her trip into town, thankfully, did not consist of any abnormalities. She had returned her work and gotten paid a bit more than usual, so she was actually quite gleeful. Then she had visited the necessary shops and gotten the food she needed – and splurged a bit of her pay on a new candle. She had burned up her last one the other night when she had gotten frightened by noises in the night and did not have enough firewood to coax her fire back from the embers it had dwindled into.

Sorcerer Part 1

The front lines were even more brutal and terrifying than any rumor passed back through the land to those untouched by it. There were bodies in piles, houses broken and abandoned all around, and the stench and smoke were enough to choke a man. He narrowly dodged an incoming arrow before turning back to the three men nearest him. The front lines didn’t scare him – the front lines were where he was most accepted. He was used to them. It was where he felt he belonged.

Western Murders

She carefully stepped around the blood that had started to seep from the freshly downed bodies. Her heels made soft clicks at an erratic pace because they bodies were strewn about in no particular fashion and she had a big barn to cross. She adjusted her grip on the bustle of her dress to make sure it too would stay blood free. Couldn’t do with ruining the beautiful  fashions he had given her – they were the only things that were truly hers. She smiled. And him. He was hers, even though she often wondered and questioned the fact. The weeks without contact made it hard of course. The mind plays tricks. But she knew better than to let her mind run it’s course of action. She had learned her lesson the first time she truly thought he wasn’t coming back for her. She didn’t care to have to be taught twice.