PhantomJustice

The stranger had come to them on a steaming, plunging black horse, enormous and foaming at the mouth. A man of few words and regal bearing, pale green eyes piercing through the cowl of dark fabric; hair the colour of dark blood spilled to drift upon the air like thick wings every time the stallion reared and tossed. The pair was so perfectly matched; neither of them were suited for the desert, and knew it, and despite that both horse and rider had been too proud to be broken by it. Farani remembered the first time he glimpsed that moon-white scar gleaming down the right side of the man's face as the first thing their guest anxiously asked a

The flight of untamed Ikran made the gleaming horizon teem with life, the throb of wings, the splashes of vibrant colour across their smooth hide only rivalled by this other, new world's phosphorescent night forests; lush fruit exploded in the mouth like the finest dessert, and the most expensive champagne could never hope to rival the fresh, untainted, ice-cool water, flowing down hovering mountains to send rainbow sparkles in midair like a scatter of precious diamonds. Moss-covered trees so wide at the base a dozen human males with arms spread could not hope to surround them, the shadows beneath the underbrush teeming with whispers, eyes, m

The cup of tea was warm in the grip of slender fingers; yet even its tendrils of fruity scent could not comfort, in this rare private moment when bi-colored eyes closed, long onyx lashes falling soft upon smooth, sculpted cheekbones, and the bittersweet memories laced through the Count's being like poison through a wound. He was haunted by eyes; a perfect shade of blue, making the heart clench, trying not to recall a foul mouth and the splendid uses it could be put to in the small hours of the night. Not to think of how the sound of small, pattering feet running all over the shop, under couches and within the very forbidden recesses of Honlon