Morning Follows the Dark
The view from the kitchen helps clear my mind. Aed…I can think of him in a rational way, now…without the darkness pushing down on me like a lover…pinning me while I thrash and scream for release.
What? Something is wrong! Where is my clear sky? Who ordered the clouds?
There are subtle magics in the air. I can taste them. I can smell the snow building in the atmosphere. Snowy days are feast days for the royals. And a feast demands a sacrifice. One of their own. Cooked and then eaten so that the sacrifice lives on in them.