Shards of the Moon

la'

am came

. Same cold hands

of my hands tried to squeeze my throat while they remembered swimming movements. My chest feels the residual effect of swallowing water inside my dream. Lungs. A mere vision was all it turned out

never told

create golden patches in the small room where Mother Elya and I lived together in the village. The pulse of my heart continued wh

n-until the dreams s

ugh the doorway. "I need your hands on the

nd me. I tried to ignore the itch of the mark on my skin, the way it thrummed

alm of mountain root and sage. He winced but didn't cry. I whispered

him. I didn't

isper from somewhere else-de

eople were myths, stories whispered to children on long winter nights. People who glowed with power were b

-dead in the forest at age five. Rai

mething chan

ous. His cloak was scorched; one arm twisted at a sickening angle. The villa

a muttered, her hands trembli

s tingling with a strange light. I pressed my hands again

from me like wate

ound

ried "Spirit magic!" and t

llap

, Elya looked afraid of me, and I kne

ire in his blood would soon see a v

ould com