speaking to the Ironteeth.
Within seconds, the Blueblood Matron was
in the skies, the Yellowlegs witch’s wyvern
soaring beside her.
Leaving Manon’s grandmother alone.
Leaving Manon with swords raised and a
crown of stars glowing upon her brow.
Manon was glowing, as if the stars atop her
head pulsed through her body. A wondrous
and mighty beauty, like no other in the world.
Like no one had ever been, or would be again.
And slowly, as if savoring each step,
Manon stalked toward her grandmother.
Manon’s lips curved into a small smile while
she advanced on her grandmother.
Warm, dancing light flowed through her, as
unfaltering as what had poured into her heart
these past few bloody minutes.
She did not balk. Did not fear.