✤ Schrödinger’s revenge

┋Schrödinger had woken up early in the morning, his sleep brutally interrupted by yet another nightmare. For the past three decades, the vile Witch of Hardiband had haunted his thoughts, memories and dreams, even guided his actions. For three decades, every breath he had dedicated to hunting down the Witch and avenging his family. And today he was closer than ever. ┋

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✤ Home again

┋He felt anxious, as the servants rushed all around him. It felt surreal, like he was a part of a different world than them. He broke the stare into the mirror to catch a glance at the outside. The sun was blissfully heading to its sleep, and the world outside seemed to follow suit. Inside, a flicker of hope danced vividly, speaking its piece, that whatever resided in her, for him, had not followed the sun.┋

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✤ Light

┋┋Finally, he could go out of the house. He had known for a while it wouldn’t be long, but the police kept checking in every few hours to make sure he was abiding by the house arrest. His puzzled expression at each of their visits spoke to them that he had no idea why they viewed him as such a threat. He was, after all, but an innocent man living out his youth. ┋

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✤ Respite

┋Doing battle is seldom something one can do for extended periods of time. Even the most frightening, nightmarish warriors sometimes desire a respite from swinging and battering and killing. Sometimes, even the most toughened of men require the solace of the sun breathing down on them, the fresh breath of a glass in their hands. And I am no exception. And I am no exception.┋

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