I closed my eyes against the thought, knowing that soon the day would cleave in two, forever creating the before and after of my life, and it would happen in one swift act that I could no more alter than the color of my eyes. There was no escaping what was to come.įor good or bad, the hours were closing in. It was the first of June, but cold gusts bit at the hilltop citadelle as fiercely as deepest winter, shaking the windows with curses and winding through drafty halls with warning whispers. Today was the day a thousand dreams would die and a single dream would be born. Now there is only this golden-eyed child in my arms. The sun, moon, and stars knelt and rose at her touch. Once upon a time, my child, there was a princess no bigger than you. I pull her thin arms, gather the feather of flesh into my lap. I look at this child, windlestraw, a full stomach not even visiting her dreams. My own grandmother telling stories to fill me because there was nothing more. The line between truth and sustenance unravels. IIIĮxcerpt from Morrighan Book of Holy Text, vol. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us./piracy.Įxcerpt from The Last Testaments of GaudrelĮxcerpt from Morrighan Book of Holy Text, vol. Copyright infringement is against the law. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only.
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