Avross

Twelve found dead; House Severidan no more

[ A little nightmarish sequence to explain the disfigurement Saraphiel has on her back. Enjoy, darlings. ]

[ Okay, so I was asked last night about what the storyline "Black Sun Rising" means, so I thought I'd post a little snippet here to give some insight into why it is the way it is. In short, it's just the name I gave for the days Saraphiel lives her life now without Avross. The backstory is further explained in this vignette. There's a soundtrack to this particular piece, if you're interested, Here's the song on YouTube. "Arclight" by VNV Nation. For those of you familiar with the Avross character, I always envisioned his voice to be that of the singer's in this song. ]

[ Sara's back. :D ]

[ I had the urge to write a corresponding scene of Ythika and her mental wanderings during the Vinguld's wedding night. ( Read Vinguld's Blog Entry here! ). So you've been warned. This is also very out of sequence of the usual 55 Word entries, so I apologize for that. ]

[ Want more Blood and Felfire? Go to the Blood and Felfire blog! ]

A soft growl escaped the lips of the orcish raised elf. Celech had warned her of the dangerous game she played, but for the savage Sindorei it was a game worth playing.  She had an intense dislike of Sulgaranosh that borded on hatred.  To see him fall would be well worth the risk.  Green eyes narrowed as she recalled their first meeting..

I shivered in the twilight as that black sky above me began to turn a shade of violet. The shifting light of the dawn stirred me from my reverie, and I looked around. Every color was golden and violet: the colors of House Severidan. The colors of the House in which the man I so dearly adored, yet feared, belonged.

It would not be long before my exhausted mind wandered back into the mists of memory, and I leaned back against Azuline's feathered body, closing my eyes in thought.

-A crumpled. burnt piece of paper blowing through the streets of Silvermoon-

[Image below the break] 

So he isn't dead yet, with "yet" being a key word.

The fair youth sighed and shook her head, shutting the door behind her as she tossed her notebook aside. Her heart was pounding, fluttering like a butterfly trapped in a cage.