short-story
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“So, what’s in the box?” Seonaid asked the following day after breakfast. Eoin had finished plaiting his hair out of the way, leaving it to hang for the day. He was in his blue breeches, having left his shirt off. He despised the Southron garment. It was constricting around the throat and pressed his torc…
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Eoin peeled his eyes open and yawned. Hands splayed across his chest. The tingling of the void nagged at the back of his head. He blinked, bringing Seonaid’s face into focus. She had tucked up under his left arm, happily wrapping her thigh over one of his. He blinked again, trying to clear the cobwebs…
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I’m so sorry, Fearchar, Seonaid. I’m out of practice. I – I – “Wha’ di’ye mean White Horse a’ the Fyskar clan? Ye’re man, nae beast. Tradition died out centuries ago. None a’ the clans claim the land tha’ way. A disgustin’ myth told in dark corners.” Fearchar cut off the apology.
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Eoin sat at a well-lit desk overlooking a sunny courtyard. A variety of apothecary materials, flasks, burners, droppers lay scattered across it’s polished surface. A mortar and pestle stood unused at the far end of the table. Eoin faced into the sun-filled room, back resting against the table edge to push the tension from his…
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Eoin released Seonaid and Fearchar. His head throbbed behind his temples, and his stomach made to greet the back of his mouth. His hearing turned fuzzy, his vision tunnelling. He collapsed face-first onto the floor between the two. They looked down at him then to each other. Eoin ground his teeth with frustration and horror.…
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“Arash died in his sleep last night, father,” a mild voice echoed in the void, the rich accent dripped into the darkness. “Have his assistant take up his position then, son,” a lower, scratchy voice snipped at the other. “Bahman was mortally wounded falling from a cliff not four nights past in reaching his family’s…
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“Seonaid! She’s beautiful!” Fearchar strolled in through the door with pride. His wife raised a skeptical eyebrow. Eoin snorted at the man’s enthrallment. “Have you finally taken up with Anna down the way?” she teased. “No one will ever replace you.” Fearchar reached for her, spinning her in the tight space until her skirts ballooned…
Chapel Orahamm 