Live Writes 1-2024 through 2-17-2024
This is the second half of scene 5 and the entirety of scene 6. Unedited, of course.
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The boy’s eyes opened, and he regarded me, almost calmly. My hand froze, urged onward by its will, a will more powerful than my own, yet held back by that fragile thread of humanity that was my own desire, and suddenly, staring into the cherubic face, it gained enough of itself to resist the will of the blade, the power of Myrdrag.
I realized there was somebody at the door when the bubble of silence shattered around me. The contest between wills, turned aside at the last moment, failed. I turned and dashed at the figure, a black silhouette framed with an otherworldly light. I obeyed the pulsing void within me and stabbed.
I struck flesh, but it was a fleeting resistance. The black blade wanted the blood of only one, and even as I moved in ways practiced a thousand times to deliver death, I faltered.
The figure struck me in the head with a quarter staff it held in its right hand and I fell back. The blow barely registered and within a moment I was back on my feet. Before I could attack again, I felt myself falling back to the floor.
My muscles had lost control; my joints had lost their strength and flopped about like reeds in a stiff wind. The dagger dropped from my hands and with it went all my thoughts for both my victim and my paramour.
I twitched.
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