Something Stonger
“I was dead… They sent me back… my name is Norgoth…”
Bjorke awoke from the dream, gasping for breath. She lit the lamp next to the bed, and walked over to the washstand to splash some water on her face. After wrapping a robe around her bare skin, she padded out to the main room of the guild hall. The fire had died down to embers, but she didn’t feel like stoking it up again, so she curled up in her chair, pulling the robe down over her feet.
“Did you need something, Ma’am?”
Bjorke looked up at Truitt. He was wearing a simple linen robe – Bjorke had never seen him like this. His attire was always so formal, she often forgot his age. But now, in middle of the night, his hair mussed, he looked so young, so innocent. “I’m fine, Truitt. Go back to bed.” Read the rest of this entry »
