Monday, March 7, 2011


By Bella Polaski

Hara stood at the edge of the plinth like a monolith, looked out over the wasteland that had once been her family’s most sacred holding.

The Dark Lord must pay.

Fists clenched, powerful, nails biting into skin, drawing blood. Her father’s sword felt heavy at her hip, itched to fill her hand.

The Dark Lord must pay.

Memories of her mother’s butchered corpse came back to her, images of her brothers, slain in their beds, never given a chance to fight or defend themselves. Fresh tears, bitter and angry tracked across her cheeks.

The Dark Lord must pay.

“Lady.” The hoarse voice of her blind weaponmaster echoed roughly against her ear. “The armies are ready. We move at your command.”

“The Dark Lord will pay.” Hara said.

“And I shall sheathe my father’s sword in his chest before the day reaches its end.”

- - -
I like to look for things that others are blind to.


- - -

Help keep Yesteryear Fiction alive! Visit our sponsors! :)

- - -

Blog Archive