LandoftheSky

Life is brief. Fall in love, maidens, before the crimson bloom fades from your lips, before the tides of passion cool within you, for those of you who know no tomorrow. My earliest memory is listening to my mother sing this song. My mother was a woman who was not beautiful except for when she sang, so she was always singing. I remember sitting at our kitchen table drawing childish pictures, enjoying her sweet soprano thrum through the walls of the house, glass shaking in the cabinet doors with her powerful vibrato. I remember hating this song. She always laughed when I told her. “I used to hate it too,” she said, which was real

It starts when the man with a thousand bodies takes her from the tournament grounds, takes her from Micah, takes her from safety, and vaults her up so high into the sky that the Fae princess is afraid. She fights at first – fights, screams, kicks, and maybe she cries. But as warm tears course down her cheeks and Roo’s rough hands wipe them away, concern and care gleaming from eyes that are not his own, Souri realizes some things she’s never wanted to know. One, that this man smells really good for a murderer on the run, how is that even possible The world is beautiful. It’s a ridiculous observation to make at any poi

“I'm sorry!  How many times do I have to tell you?” Micah asked, cringing as he dodged yet another object flung by Jei Dun. “You called me BIRD BOY, Micah!  The hell's with that?  You know...” Jei's shouting quieted down suddenly for a brief moment as the words caught in his throat.  His arm fell, as did the look on his face.  “...Micah, you know how much it hurts when people make fun of me because of that.” Yes, Micah knew.  And he felt terrible about it.  “Look, I already said I was sorry... What more can I do?”  He couldn't take back the words, that was for sure. The look that suddenly cam

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" It's a question Welknan schoolteachers ask their students every year, from the day the children enter school to the day the young adults leave. Answers are carefully catalogued and presented to the students at their graduation ceremony in a beautifully decorated scrapbook made by the teacher of each student, added to each year, growing with the child. It's arguably a silly tradition, and perhaps even morbid to remind the adults of failed childhood dreams, but it's meant to inspire and the children love it, and it's something to do anyway. Some kids stick to plain, safe answers- tailor, constructio