mistymacallister:Excerpt from my story “HALF-LIGHT, A WITCH’S KISS” Part 1: Tai looked out across th
mistymacallister:Excerpt from my story “HALF-LIGHT, A WITCH’S KISS” Part 1: Tai looked out across the silver sea of knee-high grass. The only break in the endless view was a single squat hovel sitting atop of a small hillock, like an island in deceptively calm waters. “I don’t like this place, Tai,” Ilyas whispered in her ear. He wouldn’t, she thought. The Endless Steppe was dreaded by all the creatures who travelled the Half-Light, light and dark alike, and for good reason. The amount of blood spilled on the plain would water the soil beneath the grass for an eternity, and the dead whose blood had been spilled weren’t resting easily in their graves. Squatting on her haunches, Tai watched the grass sway and rock in the Half-Light’s eternal wind. It looked peaceful, like a scene from a fairytale, but Tai knew all too well that fairytales were full of monsters. “If this is a tale, I must be the witch,” she whispered to herself. “Tai, the Terrible, returns!” A gust of wind spilled over her, whipping up her words and taking them into the dark. “Declaring yourself in this place of death is foolish, Tai,” Ilyas hissed, his anger flaring into a broiling ball of red fire blazing near her ear. Tai flinched from his heat, and cursed. “And who’s the fool now, djinn, lighting up like a bonfire for the reaping?” she hissed. “Weren’t you once called the wisdom of your people?” As quickly as the fire lit, it died, and just as quickly came the stab of guilt in Tai’s belly. Ilyas was trapped in the Half-Light just like her, but for him it was worse. He was condemned to exist without form, his essence bound to her spirit, like a ribbon braided in hair. What must it be like to live like a ghost with only a wisp of his former magics? For the proud djinn, it must be torture, and he hadn’t asked to be bound to her. It was just his punishment for sacrificing himself for her. What made him throw himself in front of the Midnight blade? When a mortal enemy saved you from a fate worse than death, what was your debt? A civil tongue, at least, she thought. “I’m sorry, Ilyas,” she whispered. “I promise to be careful.” #mistymacallister #indieauthor #indieauthorsofinstagram #mywriting #fantasywriter https://www.instagram.com/p/BuQJk-PH2eS/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1dd9k3q8enbsd -- source link