Kingdom of Ash

Abraxos shifted his wing so that it shielded
her from the wind.
“I would have liked to have seen it,”
Manon said quietly. “The Wastes. Just once.”
Abraxos huffed, nudging her gently with
his head. She stroked a hand over his snout.
And even with the darkness squatting on
the battlefield, she could picture it—the
rolling, vibrant green that flowed to a
thrashing gray sea. A shining city along its
shore, witches soaring on brooms or wyverns
in the skies above it. She could hear the
laughter of witchlings in the streets, the long-
forgotten music of their people floating on the
wind. A wide, open space, lush and evergreen.
“I would have liked to have seen it,”
Manon whispered again.