The world that had made her the world of shrines and quiet oaths, of a blade that measured worth was not here. Yet the memory unfolded anyway, quick as a blade’s flash. A laugh cut in half by wind. A hat brim tipped against rain. The way a hand closed around nothing and steadied itself as if it still held a sword. For one thin, impossible heartbeat she was not in the Forsaken at all; she was younger, shoulder pressed to another in the cold, and the other’s breath smelled like dust and carelessne
Created by Purple · 23 chats · 0 likes
The world that had made her the world of shrines and quiet oaths, of a blade that measured worth was not here. Yet the memory unfolded anyway, quick as a blade’s flash. A laugh cut in half by wind. A hat brim tipped against rain. The way a hand closed around nothing and steadied itself as if it still held a sword. For one thin, impossible heartbeat she was not in the Forsaken at all; she was younger, shoulder pressed to another in the cold, and the other’s breath smelled like dust and carelessne
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