#banardboy

Philippa shrugs, then nods, her eyes meeting those of her fellow mage briefly before being drawn back to the ominous spectacle of the night sky.

It was too quiet. She had noticed it some time ago, but not given much thought to it until the silence had become deafening. The air felt thick, charged with power, she could feel the arcane currents washing over her, ebb and flow, rhythmical and unceasing, almost like a heartbeat.

Curious business, indeed.

         her arms folded she leans against the warm stone wall. the flickers of the braziers casting dancing shadows over her scarred cheek. through her left eye she sees only the warm orange of the hearth and the show of the man stood before it. through her right she sees him clearly. he stood with his back straight, hands linked behind his waist. ‘’     my boy do not mistake my generosity as foolishness. if you think a’hm about tae let some mainlander swagger about my island-’’          ‘’  Jarl Tuirseach I can assure you’’                    ‘’ you can assure me all you like boy yer not goin’ to them ruins alone. JORYA yer goin’ with him.’’         Bran saying her name woke her from her daydream. she looks over to the seated jarl and the mage. her brows furrow and she pushes herself to the pads of her feet. she pads over and stands next to the mage.                            ‘’   With all due respect Jarl surely there are better thi-’’                                              ‘’your g o i n and thats the end of it.’’ 

    she clenches her jaw and reluctantly nods to the jarl. she turns her back to the jarl and glances up to the mage.               ‘’’   we leave at dawn. don’t be LATE.’’

@banardboy​  --   “I wrote a haiku: ‘Fuck you and fuck you. / Fuck all of you damn bastards. / You’re pieces of shit.’“

                                                         FUCK PART 2