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The Dawn of the Raven episode 17

Page 3

by J. L. Blackthorne


  Raveena stood and surveyed the field around her. Some of the humans began to celebrate, but Raveena felt no sense that any victory had occurred. She looked at where the Typhorian Palace had once stood. There was barely a remnant of it visible now. All that surrounded them were bodies and blood, littering the field as far as the eye could see. She looked down at her sword and saw that it was covered in blood. She wiped it against her leg to remove what she could. The symbols on the blade were not visible under the layers of blood and gore caked onto the blade. She tried to uncover them with her thumb, but it wouldn’t come off easily. She dropped the sword. She sat on the ground and, as the other humans around her cried out with joy for their victory, she held her face in her hands and cried for her loss.

  To Be Continued in

  Episode 18:

  Remnants

  Yet he knew that their mission was important. He’d seen what had happened during the night. He’d heard the never ending screams and scuffles that would erupt, one after another, all around him. Some far, some close, as Gekken turned on one another over and over, cleaving each other, hacking one another limb from limb. Wrathe was not accustomed to magic. It scared him. Whatever he was hunting, whatever he was searching for, he knew he had to find it, he knew he had to kill it, but he felt, for the first time in his life, apprehension. Normally when he was sent to kill, he relished it, but this mission filled him with a grave sense of fear. He didn’t allow the men sent to accompany him to sense his fear.

  The Gekken general, Throng, looked over the soldiers that surrounded him. The night had been terrible. Their initial assault had been thwarted by the fire the humans had started. And, as they waited for the blaze to burn itself out, his men were plagued all night long by attacks by their own members. The morale of his soldiers had been greatly dampened by the cries that soldier after soldier had turned rogue and butchered his comrades. He knew there was magic to blame, but his efforts to snuff out whatever being was behind it during the night were unsuccessful. And, in their rushed efforts, not all of the parties he’d sent out to search had been organized well enough. He knew that at least one group hadn’t returned, but in their hurry to find the source of the human magic they hadn’t properly tracked what each party’s search area was. He’d spent the greater part of the last two hours trying to guess as to where

 

 

 


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