Snippets: A Maiden's Touch

Hey, guys - remember Liadyn? Well, she's back! I'm about a third of the way through her story now (hopefully a little further than that) and here's a sneak-peek into her goings-on!

Liadyn gradually became aware of the earth shifting. Her arm was pinned beneath her, skin tingling from restricted blood flow, and the pounding in her ears competed with a steady wooden clacking that rent the air. Her throat was dry and her thoughts muddled. With an effort she pried her eyelids open, but for a moment she didn’t realize that she had, for it was just as dark. Even when her eyes adjusted, she had no idea where she was.

“You are under arrest,” echoed in her mind. But her prison was moving. Perhaps the execution would be held outside the limits of the capital so as not to subject the people to the sight of her gruesome corpse. But it was hardly fair; if there had been a trial, she was not aware of it, and how could they condemn her without first hearing her plea? Liadyn drew her knees to her chest and uttered a silent sob, for there was little excess moisture in her body with which to cry.

Tior was gone. She was a terrible person, leaving him all alone in the hands of strangers. Not that the poor boys had been responsible for the bizarre outburst, but the very fact that she hadn’t been there to control him, or at least witness the event and willingly make things right, weighed heavily on her heart. And now her horse was gone. They would have put him down by now, deprived of her insistence that the behavior was abnormal and he would never do such a thing without first being provoked.

And she never got the chance to say goodbye. Not to Tior, nor to her father, who would find her body in time and, after seeing the folly she had fallen into, feel vindicated for keeping her sheltered. She would never again happily give in to the spell that Gabby’s green eyes cast over her. Never again work her art in Taylan’s forge. Never again endure Amy’s stories or Haizea’s demeaning eye-roll, a trip to the market with Tanner or the painful process of brushing out Kimberli’s thick brunette curls. Never again see her family.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|