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Lady Sombra
The Other is no longer within the ancient circle of standing stones. She smiles. “Let her run,” she says softly. “Yes, let her run. Let her try whatever desperate measure she would use, it shall come to nothing ....... as in the end shall she.” Her laughter is soft. Stooping, she places her hand in the thick grass. She closes her eyes and hums softly, gathering her strength, savoring it, this power that now is hers alone. Soon – O yes, very soon – even more power shall be hers. Soon it shall be the Other who stands as a mere shadow, and soon after that even the shadow of the Other shall be dispelled. Still she hums and her pack lends the monotone of its growl to the notes of her song. For some minutes she continues in this way, content simply to hum and to feel the life within the grass beneath her hand and to savor the power that moves within her.
Then with a sudden hiss she expels her breath and breaks off her song. The grass withers – age and death running outward from her touch until nothing is left alive in this place, a place marked as sacred by those who presumed to yoke her with the Curse, a place that shall no longer offer refuge the Other. Standing, she tears loose a clump of dry and withered grass. “Grasp at your straws, my sister, in the end straw is all that you shall have.” She opens her hand and these bits of straw – so recently blades filled with the green vigor of life – are lost and dispersed in the wind.
The bright notes of her laughter speed them on their way.
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