Recent content by Everleigh Ebersol

“The regular army got their asses handed to them by elves,” Everleigh spat. “And orphans? Really?” She shook her head, a flame lighting up in her chest, steam rising up to her throat. Is this how Zael felt when he stood up to the proctors? “Orphans with magic are treated as future tools— because...

A lying nod for she had never been invited to a brothel, Proctor Marianne Goetsch didn’t find it suitable for her at the time. She still didn’t even if she had been the one to tell Everleigh of the brothel in Vel Luin. With each passing second of being touched, Everleigh became limp and...

"So you agree with them, then?" she continued to stare. "That those with magic are the strength of Vel Anir?" She leaned forward. "When war happens with the Empire or the Falwood, do you think it'll only be a choice at that point? There is already forced conscription on those without magic, so...

Everleigh's brows rose right before her face fell at Alistair's words. Her grip tightened around her mug of ale that wouldn't be able to get her drunk, immune to its properties for the rest of her life-- or until her magic wore out. I figured you hated Vel Anir more than most of our class, and...

A breath hitched in her throat, which seemed to clog up, as if closeness and intimacy were things she was allergic to. Warmth bloomed in her chest as her eyes fluttered. She was soon rosy-cheeked and malleable, bending to make way for Sam, even if it meant Everleigh made herself smaller. Violet...

With Samantha’s warm hand, the tension in her muscles slowly melted away, but Everleigh’s grip remained tight. It didn’t soften until Everleigh saw that smile that matched her blue eyes. Her eyes flickered to their hands but then back into Sam’s eyes. There was a slight quirk to Everleigh’s lips...

She hadn't even had time to sip the ale before Alistair spoke. She narrowed her eyes, assessing his face to see if she could gather any clues. She took a drink, letting the silence settle in between them. This didn't taste as good as what Sam had. The bitterness lingered long on her tongue. Or...

The man stopped pawing at the rucksack and instead reached for the clean beard of the Nord. His fingertips couldn't tickle the hair much less grab hold of it. His back was hunched from malnourishment and slouching to contain warmth during the cold nights. The dark circles that ringed his watery...

"I'm poison." A whimper that was supposed to be a whisper, but these two simple words hurt her worse than a punch to the gut ever could. With this knowledge came the teetering walk along a rocky cliff of semantics and philosophy. She was poison, so dangerous even her body had changed to make...

"I'll figure it out." They had come to their destination, and she opened the door for him after ensuring her hair was covered within her hood. "I always figure things out in the end." When they stepped into The Drunken Dog, Everleigh brought Alistair into a corner. The usual seedy types had...

She stalked along the streets, Alistair’s words reminding her of the truth that loomed before her. For a second, she felt like her heart stopped beating. All around her she could feel eyes, so many eyes watching her from the shadows. When she closed her own eyes, a mouth would open. It told her...

Don’t pity me. That flare of anger rose up again in her gut to her chest. She felt the roar of rage in her ears, her jaw tight with indignation. The Academy trained her well if her body was physically trying to keep her from hearing how soft her spoke to her. For a moment, all she saw was red...

The final twist had been made, the braid tied tight. Everleigh didn't realize it until now, but it was cathartic working with her hands, even if it was as simple as turning loose hair into a neat pair of braids. With Sam's answer said aloud, soft as silk like her inky tresses, Everleigh felt at...