Dark Crescent

[Faye]

A woman sits before me on a simple bench of dark wood, polished mirror bright, gleaming in the moonlight. Her long nails, tapered to points, tap against the hilt of the sword that lay across her lap. It is a grand sword, a ruby the size of a robin’s egg set into a steel pommel. A blue glow emanates from the sword blade, reflecting the moonlight into her face, casting it in a sharp, ghostly relief. She is draped in black leather armor, molded to her form as a second skin. Her hair is an inky red, like cut gemstones, or congealed, dried blood. She is watching me, and as I look up her eyes rest on mine. She has eyes the color of lavender and crushed violets, ringed in amethyst. Her ears, pierced in a constellation of gems and golden hoops, end in a high, tapered point. In some ways we share a resemblance, only her skin glows from an inner fire in a way that is otherworldly. Where her arms are bare, I see the edges of elaborate tattoos--serpents twisting up each arm and bands of