Short Story

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From Ramses's right came the sound of a sword hacking through bones and flesh. "Ouch," said Aloysius. He took a deep, steadying breath when Ramses snapped his wrist, but his blue eyes were clear and amused. As the fetor of spilled blood and ripped innards stung Ramses's nostrils, Aloysius wrapped a leg around one of his and they spun to the climaxing music. Only instincts prevented Ramses from kicking one of the detached heads or tripping over one of the sprawling limbs. "We need to properly discuss that soul you owe me, your mother, the Immortal Prophet and Tell-Tale Glass," said Ramses. Their dance ended in a embrace that placed Ramses's hand at the back of Aloysius's neck. Squeezing until the bones audibly grinded, Ramses hissed, "We…show more content…
The seal-bearer and slave had been killed with their arms around each other. Aloysius beckoned to one of the captains of the imperial guards. "Send the heads back to Myksos. Burn the bodies. I want this room spotless by dawn." Whilst soldiers and servants hurried to obey, Aloysius yanked his hair pin out of the dead demon's hand. The collection of delphinium shimmered into a shatter of prismatic reflections under the magic torches as Aloysius slid the pin into his hair. The snowy ermine trim of his gossamer cloak swayed an impossible breadth away from the streams of blood, remaining chaste as Aloysius walked out of the room. Jingling the whole way. # The sun was still beneath the horizon and the frigidness of the night was amplified by the precipitation in the air. After almost half an hour of silence, Lyron said, "The rumors that the cursed prince was tempted beyond sense when he saw you were clearly rumors." "Listening to the gossips of idle minds will dull your own," said Ramses. Opening his eyes, Ramses invited himself out of his meditation and refocused his attention to his location at the ledge of Prince Cyrillus's Observer's Tower. "You said that yourself." "Why did he collar you, then?" asked Lyron. Smoke curled from the spell he'd cast to warm himself, framing his long, serious face. The precision of Lyron's magic reflected a complete mastery of the blue energies in the boy's body. A child

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