Melihrene galloped eastward, beyond the scanty evergreen wood, into a lush, tropical greenwood. The threshold between these woodlands perpetuated a foreshadowing but invisible fog; felt but unseen. With each eastward hoof stamp, the crisp and cool air of the early morning heated incrementally, like the stagnant water in a soup pot. The environment grew mysteriously hot and humid. The horse’s mane and tail frizzed. Uuinora’s dampened clothes clung to her skin. The leather patches of her armor sweltered. These would have sunburned her bluish skin, if there had not been a cotton suit between her armor and her Elvish hide…
Tag Archives: Fruyr
Sons of a Soul Split: Chapter Fourteen
Fruyr swung his legs over the edge of his bed. His hand glided across the soft blanket beneath him and up the smooth bedpost of the canopy bed. He gripped the post and slid down the blanket, until his feet met the cold floor. When he released the post, he stretched out an arm, until his fingers touched the wall. He ran his fingers along the wall and counted his steps, as he searched for the window. He opened it when the side of his hand bumped the edge of the windowsill. He crossed his arms atop the windowsill and recklessly leaned out the window, into the frigid, unfriendly darkness…
Sons of a Soul Split: Chapter Twelve
The farther her horse galloped, the faster her heart pounded. The closer the twins’ mother, Nica, came to the land of her birth, the louder her internal flame roared. It fanned the flames behind her irises, and its warm light shimmered in her long, wild hair. Surplus embers ignited the uneven ends of her roguish, red mane and burned holes into her cotton shirt. She pressed her heels into her horse’s belly and pulled tightly on its reins. The horse slowed to a trot, and then stilled before a jungle hot spring. As it dipped its head and lapped the warm water of the geothermal pool, its flaming rider dismounted. She waded into the pool, squeezed her nostrils closed between her fingers, and cupped her palm over her mouth. She closed her eyes, and then she submerged…
Sons of a Soul Split: Chapter Ten
Early in the Even’morn, Noveirn knocked on Fruyr’s door. He took a moment to rouse himself from his dreams, and in that moment, the cleaned and altered outfit that the vampires expected him to wear was shoved through a mail slot in the door, which priorly, he had not known was there…
Sons of a Soul Split: Chapter Eight
Tick-tock, tick-tock! The brass pendulum of an ancient grandfather clock swayed to the rhythm of the star that governed the passage of time in another realm. It was one of many relics Ihrassius Dafyunesh plundered before Lord Draiden cursed the vampire clan to forever dwell in darkness, far beneath the bright, warm touch of any sun. The clock’s simple, consistent tune brought the taste of Ihrassius’s favorite meal back to his tongue whenever he heard it. Once, he played a long, sadistic chess game against a lonely country mouse. Her patient sorrow so enriched the flavor of her blood that Ihrassius longed for more, even centuries after he drained her heart of both her lifeblood and her unrequited love. The stoic grandfather clock was the only witness of Ihrassius’s merciless checkmate…
Sons of a Soul Split: Chapter Six
The air thickened with a pleasing aroma, a scent stronger than wildflowers and sweeter than perfume. Fruyr stopped, raised his chin, and sniffed. His eyes watered, and his pulse quickened, but his tongue and throat dried…
Sons of a Soul Split: Chapter Four
Beneath an unfamiliar, unfinished, velvet tunic, Fruyr sucked in his stomach and jerked away from the sharp tip of a sewing pin. If a pinprick drew a droplet of blood from his veins, the scent of fresh, warm, Elvish blood would surely arouse bloodthirst in the smooth-skinned, silver-haired maidservant, who steadily bedecked Fruyr in luxurious, hand-sewn attire, as befit a houseguest of Clan Dafyunesh. Fruyr marveled at how his vampire seamstress unnerved him. He had never been so skittish as to duck away from a needle before…
Sons of a Soul Split: Chapter Two
Fruyr descended through the dense, eerie mist that flooded the field beneath the old cabin and the ethereal door. The lake of mist destabilized and displaced the solid earth, which moments ago supported Fruyr’s weight, as he dashed to Kimio’s rescue. Tiny water droplets bespeckled Fruyr’s tan skin, his bright, red-orange hair, and his soiled village clothes. The leathery, gnarled hands that dragged him under, dragged him deeper and deeper into a biting, otherworldly cold, until the droplets crystalized, and the chill crept into Fruyr’s bones…
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