Andrew wondered if she was thinking about her own parents, who had married for love rather than for duty, to keep their seer bloodline strong—not that Diana knows about it—and her parents had become the only two powerful seers to ever have a child together, whose own lineage has been suppressed not unless activated by the eldest of their bloodline. Maybe Diana's grandfather has his own reason for going to the past. And Andrew hoped it wasn't disastrous enough for Diana. He doesn't want to tell her what he knows about her grandfather either. He needs to gather more sources before telling her everything. Andrew glanced back, smiling. “Well, I think you turned out alright.”Her eyebrows lifted in a questioning manner, perhaps a subtle indication of her embarrassment. "Everything alright?" Diana inquired, her tone hinting at a sense of discomfort."Absolutely splendid, my dear," Andrew responded, swiftly correcting any perceived misinterpretation of his previous statement.She nodded in
Nirvana wore a golden lacy petticoat and a pair of artfully plaited and braided hairstyles, which Diana knew were extremely popular during this period; her high forehead and plucked eyebrows added to her nobility.Checking herself, Diana was suddenly conscious of her hair, which was slightly dishevelled in an unstylish, purposeful manner. It made her look casual and approachable, like someone someone could trust, but compared to this high witch, she looks rather ordinary. The witch was stunning in the way that she looked like a goddess. "Wow, you have a lovely place, Nirvana."“I’m glad it amuses you, Diana, dear,” Nirvanahe let out with a bow towards Andrew. She continued to smile, waiting, her eyes glinting with pleasure.Andrew had the sinking apprehension that she knew precisely what they were going to say. Maybe she did. Nirvana was powerful, after all. Andrew and Diana have been blocking their thoughts, but they weren't sure if Jenna and Tommy could do the same. He had always be
13th CenturyWinterberg Village of the NorthThe village of Winterberg had suffered several attacks over the past few weeks, but a big one occurred a few days ago. A massive vampire attack had killed many before them, forcing them to flee to neighbouring villages. A few days before, they had tried to pitch a tent and erect temporary houses, but vampires and uncivilized hordes had razed them not long after. The countryside was in an uproar; people were running in the fields to escape the dark enemy, squealing and shouting with relief. However, Knight Ambrose was one of the few who wanted to fight the creatures. Willing to fight the vampires to gain more votes from the lords and dwellers of the nearby townlet.On his right, the hills were decadent with green foliage and new-sprung buds, and the valley was the most friendly place of them all, sunlit and serene; it rose as if they were the proud parents of the greenery they supported on their rock foundation.It was on the first morning o
Taking a deep breath, Knight Ambrose pushed the floral, filthy curtain aside and arrived at the witch's shelter. Inside was dimly candlelit, the air thick with incense and drying herbs, but Knight Ambrose could notice little more than the pair of emerald eyes inches before his own. Lips pressed to his in an incredible kiss, and then she withdrew as much as was possible within the small expanse, placing a table strewn with silver curiosities between them. A young witch she was, still with the sweetness of girlhood yet stepping with confidence into the shoes of womanhood. His Nirvana, a silver-long-haired maiden, was sweet and beautiful. With her long flower petticoat, she became a beacon of light in this tiny place. 'Beautiful' indeed she was, that spark in her eye, the one that says she was up for an adventure. Extraordinary and elegant was her heart, the one that loves so deeply and cares so much for others. Gorgeous was how she was born, and with her coven and human friends standing
Later that night, nosiness and curiosity were a hankering that must be stricken; uncertainty must finally break, and so it was that come nightfall, the entirety of the village of Winterberg had assembled in the courtyard. Torches had been lit, and some old lamps were on their hands and set in sconces for light, though a few were yet held, some alongside scythes, pitchforks, and daggers. The expression was sceptical, and the murmuring throng was not a crowd by any means, but it had heard about groups and was keeping its options open depending on how things went.Knight Ambrose arrived in shadow, lit by the enormous orange sphere of the full moon rising at his back. The wind was frigid, and the distant wolf howled in unison. He led his mount to the courtyard, where he had first announced his intentions, tying the horse to a post at the square's end. He strolled to the very centre of the throng, dealing with none. At the foot of the gibbet, standing his full height, he commenced to draw
Diana grabbed a tiny turquoise knapsack from the back seat, slipped into a pair of hiking shoes, locked her car, and began the journey. She passed through the fence, past the treeline, and followed the path into the countryside for a day of solidarity. She settled into a steady rhythm, hammering out a tune while walking up the path towards her grandpa's lodge. She hadn't been back in a long time, but she remembered the trail that carried her to the middle of the wilderness. When she was a teenager, her experiences with her grandfather in these woodlands were the greatest and most unforgettable. And she really missed him, but life wasn't always rainbows and sunshine. Diana's breath syncs with her steps, heeding the sound of her soles and trudging dirt, swinging her arms in time as she hammers her favourite Carpenters song. Her heart rate increased, and her body warmed. Her fair-skinned legs beneath her hiking shorts, bare arms, and freckled cleavage above her partially open cotton whit
"Stop!" Diana cried out, but the beast only snickered and kept coming, not breaking stride and moving like a predator corralling his prey. The darkness of the concluding shadows and the giant, misshapen trees crowding nearby loudly overwhelmed the gloaming air. Could anyone even hear her? Diana paused, not wanting to go to extremes unless she had to. But what else could she do without her weapon? Not that she was hopeless; of course, she could fight with a sword, a knife, or maybe anything that resembled a weapon. She was, after all, a master swordsman, or whatever those Japanese manga were called. Her grandfather made sure she knew how to use one. But could she fight a gigantic beast? Maybe, but for how long?Maybe a minute or two.With no choice, she had to fight it alone and die trying. Does she even have an advantage?But with this massive beast? She didn't think so.Her strength was being sucked out. She felt like a loser. A prey.Two blazing eyes stare at her with an immobilisin
Andrew closed his eyes as he watched her.Diana was lightly tan the way light-skinned girls get tan when they've been in the sun a long time and were passed the whole burning thing. That was odd for this time of the year, especially considering she didn't have the look of someone who recently returned from vacation. He was sure there was a story there. The question was, would he be able to get her to share it?Finally, he couldn't help himself; this woman was like a fire; even with its warmth, a moth-like him couldn't just stay away, awfully, like he longed for her.Though she seemed to awaken slowly, he heard her moan his name.Fuck! She moans like a goddess. He thought.He couldn't help himself; he tried his best not to touch her skin. Yet his hands burned a trail down to her shoulder. He murmured no sense of vulgarity against her flesh. Dammit, Andrew. This is stupid. He thought, but without warning, he lifted her legs and took the remaining little underwear she was wearing. All co