Song of the Dragon (2011)
Song of the Dragon
“The deepening sunset cast a deeply colored salmon pall over the dead carpeting the ground before her. Qinsei did not move, her eyes shifting from time to time to the other portals at the distant points around the field of death.
The carrion birds had come and were only mildly disturbed by her return. Indeed, the longer she knelt here watching the field, the more it appeared to move, undulating under the motion of the rats, carrion birds, and other vermin whose task in the world—ordained by the gods themselves—was to clean up after the violence of conflict, death, and destruction. The pulsing blue-white glow emanating from the headpiece of her Matei staff not only kept the elven Iblisi Codexia safe but also served to isolate her from the scavenging going on all around her.
It was quite beautiful, she thought, her dark reddish robes shifting in the wind. All the power of death brought down to its absolute and common simplicity. The dead flesh would be rendered, the bones would dry, the ...metal disintegrate into rust, and all the death and violence would fall back into rich earth in time, smoothed over until even this blood-soaked field would be leveled not by the will of the Emperor but by the small things of creation.MoreLess
The carrion birds had come and were only mildly disturbed by her return. Indeed, the longer she knelt here watching the field, the more it appeared to move, undulating under the motion of the rats, carrion birds, and other vermin whose task in the world—ordained by the gods themselves—was to clean up after the violence of conflict, death, and destruction. The pulsing blue-white glow emanating from the headpiece of her Matei staff not only kept the elven Iblisi Codexia safe but also served to isolate her from the scavenging going on all around her.
It was quite beautiful, she thought, her dark reddish robes shifting in the wind. All the power of death brought down to its absolute and common simplicity. The dead flesh would be rendered, the bones would dry, the ...metal disintegrate into rust, and all the death and violence would fall back into rich earth in time, smoothed over until even this blood-soaked field would be leveled not by the will of the Emperor but by the small things of creation.MoreLess
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