Astarte's Wrath
“We keep to the outside borders of towns, trekking through the baking sands. The high sun beats down on us, its rays bouncing off the golden grains and reflecting into our eyes, its heat clinging to us like steam in a bathhouse.
Octavian’s soldiers are still stationed in every major city and port, and dodging them is our main goal.
Thoughts of Candra enter my mind often. I don’t understand everything about the aether, and wonder if the Leymak roam aimlessly through it, misting in and out between... worlds, choosing at random where they appear. Or if they have some designed means of projection—that they can imagine a precise location down to the veins of a leaf. Is time a factor for them? Could they cover twice as much territory on their quest to discover us? A moment for them, days for us?
Shutting down my overtaxed brain, I breathe in the hot air, and place my attention on Xarion. The strain he’s under is starting to wear on him. He carries it in his slumped shoulders, his sunken eyes.MoreLess
Octavian’s soldiers are still stationed in every major city and port, and dodging them is our main goal.
Thoughts of Candra enter my mind often. I don’t understand everything about the aether, and wonder if the Leymak roam aimlessly through it, misting in and out between... worlds, choosing at random where they appear. Or if they have some designed means of projection—that they can imagine a precise location down to the veins of a leaf. Is time a factor for them? Could they cover twice as much territory on their quest to discover us? A moment for them, days for us?
Shutting down my overtaxed brain, I breathe in the hot air, and place my attention on Xarion. The strain he’s under is starting to wear on him. He carries it in his slumped shoulders, his sunken eyes.MoreLess
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