The gods were unpredictable. Even for a seer. A witch.

The pistol bounced against his ribs, reminding him it was there. Cynthia had made him bring it.

It was Sigrid’s first time flying a combat mission. Forest prayed it would be the last for the right reasons.

I will die with her forbidden name on my lips, unclean, and I shall be damned.

Nothing but traps and those unlucky enough to find them.

“This ain’t Star Wars, kid. Nothing to do but find the shortest path out, push our way through it."

No man should wield such power.

Creatures of habit are the easiest to watch. I know what he will do and when he will do it.

Winter had not gone away. It had retreated inside the mountain, ready to leak out as autumn died.

A life wasted. A lifetime of no life at all.

They lay there to rot as the war raged around them, over them, on top of them.

I kicked a rock over the edge and it clattered downward endlessly.

I dunked my head under and looked around me to find the beast. Saltwater stung my eyes as I gazed into the blurry darkness.

I turned and kicked off of the cliff as hard as I could, leaping out into nothing.

Twilight ruled here, and the creatures of night kept the order in this world.

The sound rose up from the reeds and the mud, calling me back to the marshland.

I have been cast out. None shall sing my name. I will fade into nothing in this wretched place.