Song Drabblesraise the callScreams and bodies hitting the floor, bursts of fire and tears in the ground, fur and blood and feathers and skin blending together in some patchwork of chaos, tangled and ripped, every now and then locking in a struggle so close it seems they could be making a different kind of cry against the world.You see none of this. You're running, wings spread, eyes on one thing only. One figure. One death. Yours or hiswell, that remains to be seen.But you know damn well, deep down, filling you with heat and anger and a strength that can't help but propel you along, it's not going to be yours.Lift your hands to war, children. Break the earth open with your screams. Someday the books will remember you as heroes, or at least people who thought they knew what they were doing.Tonight is the end of everything that's been your burning fuel. It's disgusting and it's terrible and at the same time, it's terrible how glorious you find it. Perhaps you've no other choice.Tom
Billy ShatterThe mirror was broken, and Billy could do nothing.Staring down at it through welling eyes, he saw as if in a dream images race across the jagged shards; whether they were truly reflected in the glass or simply in his mind’s eye it was impossible to tell. The Bloors ridiculing him; his guardian Christopher Crowquill dragged into the depths of the sea; the other Endowed children turning away in distrust one by one…Weak Billy Raven. Spy Billy Raven. Useless, scaredy-cat Billy Raven.Inside him something shattered as sharply as the mirror; fragments, never to be reassembled, forming themselves into daggers as hard as diamond, as cold as ice.No longer.+++“What’s that noise?” demanded Dr. Bloor roughly, looking up. He was hearing a cacophony the likes of which he’d never before experienced: the raucous sound of birds flapping and shrieking, but so deafeningly they blotted out all other noises from outdoors.“Great black bastards!
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