Cel-Cass

A smile crept into Alexea’s face as she warded off fists aimed at her again and again. The cries of pain and panic that echoed in the bar were unheard by her. The few strikes that landed on her body went unnoticed. Only a rush of exhilaration and adrenalin filled her veins when she moved effortlessly around people, dodging their attacks and returning them with pleasure. Every successful strike brought laughter to her, and every bruise only encouraged her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw several lucky ones who managed to escape before things became too ugly. She scoffed and thought them as cowards and silly. Who would want to run fr

You might want to read the comments first, just so you'd understand better. “We could send an emissary to the north, but it would take weeks before a response is given.” Annya stopped in mid-speech, realizing that the attention of her audience has been divided. She followed their gazes to Alexea, the tent flap still waving in the wake of her intrusion “Alexea,” Xander began. “What-“ “You son of a bitch,” she shrieked, advancing towards them. “It was you. You killed them.” Her hand reached for the cuff of Luchas’s tunic and pulled, driving his face into her flaming fist. “Luchas

The patter of rainfall on leaves were almost deafening in the awkward silence. The ground filled my vision, a single dead leaf in focus while the words from a woman sank into my mind. I could tell she was crying, even without looking at her eyes, but from her voice, once so joyful and rich now hoarse and broken. “I love you,” she had told me. “I love you,” she said again, louder this time. “I love you and you know that, so why hell are you acting so god damn oblivious?!” A pang struck my heart when I heard her voice. Dread overcame my thoughts. I cursed myself for being the item of her affection. My damned h

My tears flowed endlessly down my cheeks and mingled with the rain. Hot and cold droplets of water rolled of my face and disappeared into my already drenched clothes. My eyes, blurred as they were by tears, were fixed on his back. He, who had just confirmed my deepest fear, couldn’t even bear to look at me. “I love you,” I repeated what I had confessed earlier. “I love you and you know  that, so why hell are you acting so god damn oblivious?!” His hand flew up to his hair, sending those beautiful silver-white strands which I have come to love and adore to the back of his head. I waited, waited for a reply.

Being merely a little village by a forest, far from the capitol Kreatha, Shion has little to offer for entertainment after sundown. The one place of any fun was Theron’s bar, which wasn’t much. In contrast to the quiet wooden houses scattered around the village, it was roaring with shouts of eager drunkards and squeals of promiscuous harlots. Tonight, however, they were especially loud. Tonight, Theron’s bar was an arena. The rules were simple enough, two fighters in a drawn square area, brawling each other until one falls, for the prize: as many tankards of mead as can be drank, and a few hundred silver pieces. The brick bui

The gardens lay in the heart of the village Shion, as is customary to every village in Kreatha; a sanctuary for the villagers, shaded by young trees and shrubs and blooming flowers when spring gives way to summer. The air stirred with light breezes, carrying sweet scents of nectar from the open buds. In the village gardens the children play, separated from their parents, too busy or too distracted to watch over them. The sun was already low and red, giving way to the approaching night. The air rippled with giggles from the girls, busily braiding the hairs of their friends and dolls, twisting rainbow coloured ribbons through them. Not far fro