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By things so achingly small are lives measured...
Posted on Friday, February 5, 2010 at 6:33 PM
By things so achingly small are lives measured and marred
Alberico, turning in a white rage to snap an order at his captain, saw the cane come up and Scalvaia's finger jerk upon the handleHad he been facing straight ahead or turning the other way he would have died of a sharpened projectile bursting into his brain
It was toward Scalvaia that he turned though, and he was the mightiest wielder of magic, save one, in the Palm in that hourEven so, what he did, the only single thing he could do, took all the power he had and very nearly more than he could commandThere was no time for the spoken spell, the focusing gestureThe bolt that was his ending had already been loosed
Alberico released his hold upon his body
Watching in terror and disbelief, Tomasso saw the lethal bolt whip through a blurred oozing of matter and air where orange prada bag Alberico's head had beenThe bolt smashed harmlessly into the wall above a window
And in that same scintilla of time, knowing that an instant later would be an instant too late, that his body could be unknit forever, his soul, neither living nor dead, left to howl impotently in the waste that lay in ambush for those who dared essay such magic, Alberico summoned the lineaments of his form back to himself
He had a droop to his right eyelid from that day on, and his physical strength was never again what it had beenWhen he was tired, ever after, his right foot would have a tendency to splay outward as if retracing the strange release of that momentary magicHe would limp then, much as Scalvaia had done
Through eyes that fought to focus properly, Alberico of Barbadior saw Scalvaia's silver-maned head fly across the room to bounce, with yacht master rolex a sickening sound, on the rush-strewn floor, decapitated by the belated sword of the Captain of the GuardThe deadly cane, crafted of stones and metals Alberico did not recognize, clattered loudly to the groundThe air seemed thick and viscous to the sorcerer, unnaturally denseHe was conscious of a loose, rattling sound to his breathing and a spasmodic trembling at the back of his knees
It was another moment, etched in the rigid, stunned silence of the other men in the room, before he trusted himself to even try to speak
"You are dung," he said, thickly, coarsely, to the ashen captain"You are less than thatYou are filth and crawling slimeYou will kill yourselfNow!" He spoke as if there were sliding soil clogging and spilling from his mouthWith an effort he swallowed his saliva
Ferociously straining to make his eyes work buy miu miu properly he watched as the blurry form of his captain bowed jerkily and, reversing his sword, severed his own jugular with a swift, jagged slashAlberico felt a froth of rage foaming and boiling through his mindHe fought to will an end to a palsied tremor in his left hand
There were a great many dead men in the room and he very nearly had been one of themHe didn't even entirely feel as if he lived, his body seemed to have reassembled itself in not quite the same way as beforeHe rubbed with weak fingers at the drooping eyelidHe felt ill, nauseousThe air was hard to breatheHe needed to be outside, away from this suddenly stifling lodge of his enemies
Nothing had come to pass as he'd expectedThere was only one single element left of his original design for the eveningOne thing that might yet offer a kind of pleasure, that might redeem a chanel classic bag little of what had gone so desperately awry
He turned, slowly, to look at Sandre's sonHe dragged his mouth upwards into a smile, unaware of how hideous he looked
"Bring him," he said thickly to his soldiers"Bind him and bring himThere are things we can do with this one before we allow him to dieThings appropriate to what he was
His vision was still not working properly, but he saw one of his mercenaries smileTomasso bar Sandre closed his eyesThere was blood on his face and clothingThere would be more before they were done
Alberico put up his hood and limped from the roomBehind him the soldiers lifted up the body of the dead captain and supported the man whose face had been broken by Nievole
They had to help the Tyrant mount his horse, which he found humiliating, but he began to feel better during the torchlit ride back to chanel 5 ladies handbag au Asti
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