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Blogathon - Entry 8
Jul. 26th, 2008 12:59 pmSponsor me!
Excerps: Transients
Prologue
The blood on his hands was just starting to dry when the guards arrived. It itched, all dry and flaky, with the questionable consistency of greasy ashes. He’d sustained no injuries of his own. His erstwhile opponent still lay where he had fallen, face-up to the sky. Ash’d thought about closing the man’s eyes, but something – be it superstition, fear or residual dregs of anger – made him reluctant to touch the body.
Killing should not have been this easy. That is, the physical aspect had been about what he expected. He was younger and better trained with a sword, if lacking in battle experience. But he’d thought the reality of having taken a life would hit him harder; that the guilt of it would be overwhelming. He’d thought, at the time, it would be worth the price. What he felt instead was nothing, or the next closest thing to it. His hands itched and he shivered in the morning cold, but his thoughts declined to move in any direction whatsoever.
The first thing the guards did was check on the dead man. They must have thought he'd fallen over drunk; Gods knew it happened often enough. The second thing they did - much to Ash's discomfort - was ask him if he was injured. The thought of him as a murderer hadn't occurred to them yet. The last time one of the Fae had died... Well, it was a long time ago and Ash remembered the date all too well.
He didn't protest when they finally took him into custody.
( Cut for length )
Excerps: Transients
Prologue
The blood on his hands was just starting to dry when the guards arrived. It itched, all dry and flaky, with the questionable consistency of greasy ashes. He’d sustained no injuries of his own. His erstwhile opponent still lay where he had fallen, face-up to the sky. Ash’d thought about closing the man’s eyes, but something – be it superstition, fear or residual dregs of anger – made him reluctant to touch the body.
Killing should not have been this easy. That is, the physical aspect had been about what he expected. He was younger and better trained with a sword, if lacking in battle experience. But he’d thought the reality of having taken a life would hit him harder; that the guilt of it would be overwhelming. He’d thought, at the time, it would be worth the price. What he felt instead was nothing, or the next closest thing to it. His hands itched and he shivered in the morning cold, but his thoughts declined to move in any direction whatsoever.
The first thing the guards did was check on the dead man. They must have thought he'd fallen over drunk; Gods knew it happened often enough. The second thing they did - much to Ash's discomfort - was ask him if he was injured. The thought of him as a murderer hadn't occurred to them yet. The last time one of the Fae had died... Well, it was a long time ago and Ash remembered the date all too well.
He didn't protest when they finally took him into custody.
( Cut for length )
