Wings of
Death As the dust cleared around him,
Sagyr felt
something like trepidation grow on him. He was
startled when he sensed this; what had become
of the fearless sorcerer he has always been?
Nearly
all light seemed to have been cut off from
its source, and his castle dining room was now
enveloped in a dark grey that almost neared
black. He felt instinctively that Xandrilia, the
Wicked Witch of the West, had now disappeared
from the spot where she had been up to the
moment that all this dust and flashes of fire had
occurred.
What
had she done? Had he beaten her or
scared her off, or had she done something
horrible to him that he was yet to discoverer? He
sharpened his ears, but all he could hear was a
slightly regular appearance of a quite
unintelligibly high sound that he hadn't heard
during his entire existence.
The
high sounds became more regular, urging
Sagyr to halt instinctively. Before him, some of
the
scarce light illuminated something that surely
seemed like nothing else but a mirror. Sagyr went
|