Je’hir blinked and blinked again, tears leaking out the sides of his eyes, past the tops of his ears, down the sides of his head. Sky, turquoise with wispy fluffs of pink clouds filled his vision. Directly above him, however, a wavering black dot broke the serene beauty.
“No, no, no,” he moaned, punching the ground beneath his fists and wishing the tangible evidence of his father’s treachery would just disappear.
The tiny collar weighed heavy in my hand. I’d always know Victor was special, the kind of kitten who had magic hidden deep inside. Despite his belief that he could fly, he had taken one too many risks.
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This close to a master bloodfencer, the crude piece of metal in my earlobe burned like hell. I itched to take it out, but it was all that guaranteed my sanity.
Sweat slicked the grip of my hydropistol as I watched Lord Dreadsower, the bloodsucking, self-proclaimed deity of this town, swoop into the alleyway to meet my partner.
The seventh time I’m reborn, I have long purple hair and a dragon tattoo wrapped around my left hand. Or maybe it’s a lizard. Personally, I prefer dragons. They spit fire, but at least they’re straightforward about it. Unlike sneaky lizards with that tongue thing. I’m not a squeamish girl, but ech.
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Borgig strolled along the empty beach, his shaggy curls shading him from the sun, when a bomb exploded under his feet.
Under one of his feet, to be exact.
“Aaaagggh!”
Sand sprayed as he hopped backwards. Although the bomb couldn’t have been larger than a peanut, pain shot through his foot as if it had caught fire. He would have blisters by morning, no doubt.
He was near.
I gripped my sword, sweat dripping from its hilt. I’d been tracking him for days, almost catching a glimpse, but always he eluded me.
No more. He was an enemy from the East; he could not be allowed to invade our territory and live. It was the Sage’s orders.
They were arguing again. He could hear their voices rising, drowning out the sound of Johnny Carson on the TV. He pulled the covers over his head and tried to ignore them.
“Ugh, this stupid cabinet. I can never get this door open,” She said.
The beat of war drums drives any notion of rest from my bones. I gird on my legendary sword, Jimmy Bob, and stride out of my tent to give my troops an inspiring speech before the battle. Across the torchlit river, the enemy army lurks, human troops intermixed with monstrous daemons summoned from the underworld.
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The barbarian exploded from the folding table launching dice, game pieces, and potato chips in every direction.
Tony, Piper, and Bart dove to the carpet for cover.
“What did you do?!” Piper screamed at Tony.
“What did I do?!?” Tony army crawled away from the disaster.
“Yeah, you butthead. You rolled!”
The burning orb far in the distance ignited the miles upon miles of golden clouds underneath the drones of fluttering creatures. Large, cyclopean towers rose from the billowy underbelly, looming over them like monolithic giants.
Their sinewy bodies shot in-between the crevices of the engraved structures, weaving past the steaming mist erupting from the trenches below the clouds.
I hacked at a vine as it snaked around my feet. It recoiled. I shook the old tarnished sword at the enchanted forest and shouted, “I am Ariella!” I let the name roll off my tongue. It thrilled me.
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“You know, it’s not easy to find something that shouldn’t exist.”
Bradley shook awake. Ropes held his body to a chair, old and coarse bindings. Sitting alone in what appeared to be an attic lit solely by moonlight from windows to the right and left, he could not trace the deep voice to a source.
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