Ilyria and the Lightning Bird
Their headless bodies wavered in position as if uncertain what to do, and then they fell.
“No,” whispered Ilyria and she turned again. This time she gasped in wonder at the Ilyria she saw in the mirror. She was beautiful. She was more than beautiful. She was mesmerizing. In this image of herself, she wore the midnight blue cloud silk. It wafted about her body, winding itself closely around her breasts, hips, thighs, accentuated the voluptuous lines, revealing her long, finely muscled legs, exposing her milk-pale skin. Her dark hair shone blue-black, like midnight itself. Her lips were tinted a delicate shade of pink. If she wore make up at all it was so expertly applied as to be nearly invis
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