![]() Meanwhile, he named the girls after their hair colors: blonde, green, and brown. ![]() He walked through a more secluded and overgrown section of the park, adjusting his skin and flesh to suit his approach. She'd retort with a comment about how humans also believed that knowing how prey thinks is a benefit to a hunter.Ĭhuckling to himself, he chose his approach. He'd make some snide remark about that being a human way of thinking. No doubt something about having more pride in his talents and enjoying the challenge. He could almost hear Arishka teasing him. He needed a persona dangerous enough to appeal to the blonde's obvious yearning for adventure and experience, while being safe enough to slip by the others' suspicion. She was, however, shielded only by a passionate love he'd have to struggle to overcome, so he dismissed her as an option.Īs he observed them, his mind was running through approaches. With a few more years of experience she would be truly formidable, but for now she was much like her golden-haired mistress an easy mark. The green-haired woman was around the age of his target, from a strong nature-oriented bloodline which she had leveraged into self-augmentation. She was alert, capable, and protective of her young charge. The one with brown hair was middle-aged an obvious warrior with more than a little experience perfecting what was a lackluster talent in terramancy. Her two companions were less unusual, but much more dangerous. All power, no skill or guile to call her own the perfect target. He was willing to bet this girl had never so much as witnessed a person die with her own eyes. ![]() The perfect expression of a nobleborn girl who had no experience with the real world, no doubt an avid reader of things that she never experienced, written by people who themselves had never experienced what they wrote of. She smiled and pointed at trees, and even made a timid attempt at touching one of the glowing blue caterpillars which were seeking a spot to cocoon themselves. Her soul glowed with even more vigor, possessed of incredible raw potential as a psion that had received little refinement. Her soft-yellow hair, natural in spite of the absurdity of such a thing, framed a round, youthful face that looked as if it had never once experienced suffering or difficulty in life. Right now, he was less interested in men, and more interested in one specific woman which was unique in both layers of reality. Though that was, again, for those more interested in navel-gazing than he. It was admirable, the lengths to which men would go to ensure the violence of the world could only travel in one direction where they were concerned. So long as it remained stable, it would serve as protector and prison for all who embraced 'civilization'. In effect, sensory magic was dulled to near blindness for those beings who had not trained specifically to work around it. Magic which redirected human spiritual energy along controlled pathways, like ditches and levies to control the flow of water, and even turned that very same spiritual energy into fuel to continue the magic that made it all possible. Instead, he was far more interested in the artificial magic chained through the air magic meant to protect people from suffering at the hand of spirits and beasts the same horrors they inflicted upon each other. He smirked at the brutal little microcosm, noting a more introspective sort would take some sort of personal lesson from the scene playing out. ![]() Some months later, the scene would reverse, as the frozen and starving death spirits would be driven out by the next generation of life spirits. Flickers of nature spirits, weakened by age, were swarmed by hungry cold and death spirits and drained of their remaining life. There, life and death did not merely dance around one another they waged a war for primacy. Instead of noting the beautiful reds and purples of the crafted scenery, and the subtle scent of moisture and decay heralding winter's embrace, his eyes were locked on the spiritual world. though few tourists could see what he was seeing. ![]() He regarded the park with real enthusiasm, gawking as only a tourist might. Chapter 0: The Breach- In which a character is smoother than the author could ever dream of being ![]()
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