#hislefthand

Next Concert - Hongo Fuu + Age Of The Wolf + His Left Hand + Art Fair to support the recovery of Boreal Arburola.

Amon Solar - San José - Costa Rica - December 15 2023 - 8pm

... Beleth?

Alanna checked over her packs for the hundredth time that evening. Wrapped-up and spelled samples of food and flowers, fresh clothes and chest-wraps, books, weapons. And the opal from her twin, unnaturally warm in her palm. Everything was ready.

She was in one of the attic rooms of the Dancing Dove. She and Coram had ridden from the palace that afternoon, supposedly bound for the City of the Gods. And he would ride on without her, and escort her back to the capitol when she returned.

George thought she was mad, as usual, but had arranged the room for her. He'd left her near an hour ago with a kiss on the brow and a laughed order to "nab him something shiny from the lightning-people".

She went over the circle one last time, but at this point she knew she was procrastinating. Still, she made certain the chalked marks were bright and clear against the wooden floor. George would be in later to scrub away the evidence. 

"Oh, stop it, Trebond," she muttered to herself. "It's time."

The skinny girl heaved the pack onto her shoulders and fastened Lightning at her hip. Lifted the enchanted book and paged past last-minute bits of advice from Thom, past coordinations with Beleth, past Orianna's encouragement to the spell. Stepped carefully into the circle and began to read. 

She focused on the words as they rolled off her tongue, focused on the violet fire filling each vowel, sharpening each consonant. On her half of the connection, reaching out, farther than she'd ever been told it was possible to reach.

An early birthday gift from Thom, to help on the journey.

A: Got the link to the Grid!

T: Excellent!

A: On a related note, what's the best way to return some kind of spirit to its true form?

T: Well, you could use the sixth Word of Power which is what the hell are you talking about?

A: You learn that language from the priests?

T: Alanna...

A: My link. Is a spirit. Trapped in the wrong form. And I made an accord to turn him back, in exchange for the link.

T: What kind of spirit and what kind of form?

A: He's been turned into a hand.

T: ... And?

A: ...

T: So help me, I will cause this book to strike you over the head, see if I don't.

A: You wouldn't.

A: ...

A: Alright, he's a demon king.

T: ALANNA WHAT THE SCREAMING FUCK

thecrowdseemedenergized replied to your post: [Alice? I have a little question for you.]

[You know, I wasn’t always a hand. I used to be a person and, well, I’ve heard so much about your imagination. Do you think you could imagine me as I was before?]

i don't know what sort of person you were before.