Upon a lofty perch

The wind howled through the trees, sparse as they were atop the Gillikin peaks. The shear cliff edge was desolate, a seemingly endless wall of razor sharp shards of rock that was a forbidding deterrent from any travelers up the mountain side. On a desolate peak of the high mountain sat a lone, aged tower made crudely of stone. The tower seemed as though it had sat there for much time, a distant memory from ages past. It stretched to the sky, its peak open to the sky. There was one door into the tower. It was large and heavy, its wooden construction cracked, weathered and aged.

The door creaked noisily on its iron hinges as the lone inhabitant of the tower descended the curved steps slowly. The mysterious figure, concealed by a long, black, tattered cloak moved awkwardly, as if every step was a feat. The figure made its way to the well that sat to the side of the tower. After drawing a bucket of murky water from within the well, the cloaked figure moved with labored steps back to the tower stairs and up and back to the door. The door swung back open when a bone-chilling screech was heard from high above.

The cloaked figure stopped instinctively and looked up to the sky, as though the sound was calling to it. The bucket of water slipped from the hands of its carrier and fell back down the steps. Two bony hands emerged from the sleeves of the cloak and slowly removed the hood that covered the persons head. Long and straggly hair, jet black in color, fell unkempt from inside of the hood. It framed the face of the mysterious person naturally, the face of a woman long set apart from society. Her features were worn but feminine, much to the contrary of her tattered garb.

The screech sounded again from high above as a soaring creature with large, black wings came into view in the distance.

The strange woman bared her teeth as a low rumble emanated from her throat like unto a beast's growl. She snapped her head as the airborne creature soared past her and her tower home. She followed it with her whole body, darting to the edge of the aged stone steps until she could see it no longer. She searched the sky for it frantically to no avail. When convinced it was nowhere to be seen, the woman darted back inside of the tower and slammed the door shut.

Inside, she busied herself with digging through a large pile of books. She searched frantically for something specific, something that she needed to find. At long last, after knocking piles of old books to the floor, she pulled up a large, leather bound book ornately embroider on its edges with strange markings. She held it into the light, the flickering candle dancing off of her green eyes, a green that was deep and soulful, telling the story of toil and torment many years past. It was a green that reached far into her soul with meaning; a green that had not been seen by another soul in many years and a green that matched the very color of her skin.

She rushed to the table that boasted the flickering light of candles and opened the old book with care and began to search its contents with one outstretched finger lining the text inside.

"Now, my pretties" she said in a hoarse voice under breath, "where did we leave off all those years ago" she said, an eerie cackle of a laugh erupting from inside of her and echoing off of the stone walls.

The mighty Mekkwraith that had flown over head had awakened the spirit inside of her. Now, there would be no telling what lengths she would go to to have her revenge.


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