![]() ![]() Planting his palms onto his pallet of blankets, he propped himself up and was damned glad for being alone in his own quarters. the fire the female wrought upon the Bloodletter's body was brilliant and white and instantaneous and it consumed Xcor's sire within moments, the stench of burning flesh - Xcor bolted upright, his dagger hand gripping his chest, his lungs pumping and yet drawing no air. ![]() Always, he watched in horror as the female sprang up from the earth and took his father down. Thereafter, the sequence of events was as set as the lines in Xcor's brow: He yelled an alarm and spurred on his stallion whilst his sire dropped the human female he had caught and went gunning for the spirit. Except then the Bloodletter saw the ghost. His father was too busy riding his steed down upon a human woman. Upon her appearance, he knew immediately why she had come out of the thick forest - but her target was as yet unaware of her presence or her purpose. ![]() Deep within his sleep, Xcor saw before him the apparition of a female of rage, the mist swirling about her white robes and frothing them up into the chilly air. And yet its images were fresh and clear as the night all had changed so many aeons ago. EIGHT OLD COUNTRY PRESENT The dream was an old one. ![]()
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