Recent content by Gerra

Emperor. He closed his eyes as the tide of memories rolled out across the plains of his mind. The power and the glory he once held... Gerra breathed out slowly, exhaling away the memories, then opened his eyes again. "And I yours," his arm wrapped around her drew her closer, fingers...

As her words rang out in the quiet stillness of the night, Gerra lifted an arm and slowly laid it around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. She was a spark of warmth in the coldness of the world. "I do not believe you to be either pet or possession," he rumbled, "I think you know this...

"No." The word hung in the air for a time, along with the smoke from the fire. "I cannot go back to peace. I never held it to begin with. The blood of my father runs hot in my veins. I have not known a moment of peace since the moment I was born." He held out the hand nearest her, palm up...

He stared into the fire as she knit once more into his side, her small frame a warmth in the night. The question lingered. How could he answer such a thing? "I lost the only friend I had in the world," he rumbled, eyes fixed upon sticks as they charred and blackened in the firepit. Soon to be...

Mercy. If only she knew the truth of him and of what he’d done and of the countless lives slain in his conquests. Perhaps she would not then speak of mercies. But he was the son of the Ash King and would not flinch from his own reflection in the mirror. She sat there looking small and sad...

"A side effect of a life misled," he replied, prodding at an ember and watching the red-orange glow flare like the beat of a heart, "My skeletons seldom let me sleep." Much less when she nestled her form against his side. Sparks floated gently into the air from the few burning sticks and...

His strides did not pause at her touch on his wrist, though he did slow so she might keep pace. The disparity in their height made walking beside one another difficult at best. Gerra glanced down as she looked up at him. In her eyes he saw she spoke with earnestness. She always seemed to do...

“Paltry wounds, I’ve had worse,” he remarked, hand coming away from her back to rub at an old scar on his chest, left by the knife of a would be assassin whose father he killed. “I was obtaining information on your kidnappers. The source proved… reluctant,” a tight, toothless grimace split his...

Gerra snorted, eyeing the wild flames kindling in her hands. "Peace, we have even further to travel yet." Still, he found a flicker of approval growing at her willingness to leap into action. She had not hesitated to consume her captor in an inferno the very moment she broke free. An...

"Where are they?" Gerra had cornered a man against a wall, which stood alone, sole survivor of whatever structure used to reside there. His fingers curled into the fabric of the human's shirt and he dragged him up against the wall with no more effort than he might lift a small child...

The table shuddered as Gerra stood abruptly, bowl in hand. A ponderously deep frown carved his features, brow low and full of silent wroth. He glanced at her only a moment and in that moment such revulsion and hate and pain kindled in his gaze that it burned to look upon. Then he stalked away...

"No," Gerra replied, perhaps too tersely. He shoveled soup into his mouth in the silence, sipping broth and chewing at the stringy meat. It all tasted like ash and he felt another flash of emptiness in the hollows of his heart. He'd been unkind. "No," he said again after he swallowed, "I am...

It had not taken them so long to cross the narrow span of sea between Gerra's island and that of the mainland of Sheketh, nor to journey to the portal stone in the mountains. They passed several days in this journey together, but Esper soon found that Gerra was a melancholy man who seemed but of...

Gerra straightened to his full height and rolled a shoulder to test his range of motion. “We have but two options,” he rumbled, “We can run far and run fast. Hide somewhere they would never look for you, or…” he clenched and unclenched his fist, as his sinews recalled their former strength...

Of course. Gerra had forgotten that fae could not outright deceive. So they played games with their words, every one of them having a double meaning. Strange. He did not sense such deception from Esper. Not at present. Peril tended to drive such games far from view, he supposed. What she spoke...