“I wouldn’t bother if I were you. He does this for a living.” The two men looked up from their seats across the candle lit table. “The penitent Thief doesn’t suit you Lucas, unabashed gambler was always more your speed.”
“Diversity is the spice of life dear brother.” Lucas stood and held his arms wide to embrace the newcomer.
The Shepherd’s wife gave birth on the first day of the lambing, just as the witch said she would; and, like the witch foretold she gave birth to twins. The first had fair skin and striking green eyes the second was dark and its eyes were as cold and clear as ice. They knew at once the curse was real.
Without regret or hesitation the Sheppard took it outside and before it could utter its first cry saw to it that it would never harm the tribe.
It was only later, when the Shepherdess brought the child to her breast to feed did they realise their mistake. The choked off scream as its fangs pierced her skin was almost more than the Shepherd could bare. The witch had won after all.
Ventur was feeling pissed off. He’d been feeling that way more often recently and that just seemed to piss him off even more. He felt like it was harder and harder to control himself and he was getting into more and more arguments with his friends because of it. Even Theo, who would usually sit calmly as Ventur paced and ranted about his troubles was starting to make pointed comments. Then there was Rheandra. She seemed to actively seek him out and wound him up on a daily basis. She would talk in her exasperated way about how magic is power and should be embraced for the good of all, about what he should be doing with his unique ‘gifts’ and about what she would do once she was free of this prison she was so tragically confined in.