He took a song and a kiss and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.
shisha im trapped
“…this was a bitter tormented soul, a sinner who mocked both gods and men. He served but found no pride in service. He fought but took no joy in victory. He drank, to drown his pain in a sea of wine. He did not love, nor was he loved himself. It was hate that drove him. Though he committed many sins he never sought forgiveness…”
Some instinct made her lift her hand and cup his cheek with her fingers. The room was too dark for her to see him, but she could feel the stickiness of the blood, and a wetness that was not blood. “Little bird,” he said once more, his voice raw and harsh as steel on stone.