Eight orders
Seven swords
Six legends
Five relics
Four beasts
Three villains
Two hearts
One destiny
A castle emerges from the russet tendrils of a blazing sunrise. Sleepily, it begins to wake. Torches lining the upper stone ramparts flicker to life, the flames anxiously dancing in the greedy wind. A heavy smoke rises from the walls but lingers just above the twisting spires on either side of the fortress. It waits with bated breath as the crows, invited by the promise of death, arrive. They perch upon the roof with beady, hungry eyes. Watching. Waiting. Cannons are led out into the main square, their sharp noses shoved through holes at the base of the walls. Doors are flung open, weapons sought. Men shuffle into armor as they prepare for what is to come.
War.
The dank cell juts out from the base of the stone beast, guarded by twin towers reaching toward the sky like tortured fingers. In the cell is a girl. She holds a pen in her small, delicate hand preparing to write. The pen is raised, poised above a field of snow fanned out upon a wooden table top. A dark droplet rests on the silver tip, preparing to plummet. It swells, ready for the release; the sigh before the deep plunge. The bead of ink falls onto the smooth, unblemished page. It dribbles in a jagged line from one corner to the bottom in a smear of black. It's strange how one single drop can ruin the entire canvas. Torn from the table, the page is wadded up and tossed into the corner.
She paces the small space with her grimy hands behind her back. There are no windows in the cell, but she can hear the faint pound of wings beating against the northern wind. Men yell above her, their cries muffled by sudden fear. The delicate hair at the nape of her neck shoots up in anticipation. She's suddenly covered in a blanket of familiarity, liberation from the darkness that has inhabited her mind these past weeks. Relief grasps her heart, its warm fingers washing away the horrors of her time in the cell.
Her twin sister is coming.
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Ink Sisters
FantasyDrakkor is a Fire Mage, a dark sorcerer who can bend flames to do his bidding with a quick snap of his fingers. Magic, however, always requires a steep price. His soul is dying, fading into the darkness after centuries of using up his energy to fee...
