** Could an undying love blossom in the ruins of a shattered world? **
And so the world of men was lost
and a new one, our world,
was born.
- Morrígan
Goddess of the Battle
of the Túatha Dé Danann -
4th cycle anno Bellum.
The Second World War...
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Song recommendation for this chapter:
Game of Lies by Robert D. Sands
Song no. 1 on our VAESEN playlist on Spotifyhttps://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Vj7oMU7QlEWhue0rJ3VOy?si=6276d08dd50a429a
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Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The little creature gave up its attempts to free itself. Like a puppet without strings, it hung in Zane's grip and clung to the joint to find some support. The many beads in the wild, straw-colored hair tinkled woodenly, and the small chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. Then, the creature narrowed its eyes suspiciously.
"What do you want?" After what felt like an eternity, Zane heard the cheeky voice reminding him vaguely of a crow.
"Orestes, the fence - where is he hiding?"
"Orestes?" Zane saw the black eyes widen again. "I don't know any Orest-"
Before the little trickster could finish, his grip on his throat had hardened again, and he squeezed hard. Zane could feel the flesh under his strong fingers, and with his keen hearing, he could literally hear the bones groaning under the pressure... just a little further, and he could have snapped his neck like a rotten twig.
"Don't play games, or you'll pay with your life!"
As soon as he had uttered his threat, a new smell mingled with the stench that polluted the air around him: fear. To him, it smelled almost as sweet as a mild summer rain.
