Atını öyle bir mahmuzladı ki, hayvan çılgın gibi araziye doğru uçmaya başladı; ama elbette, eski seyıisinin, binicisine, meşum, korkutucu bir elbise gibi giydirdiği ünden habersizdi. Zayıf yüzündeki gözlerinin nasıl tek bir noktaya baktığını, paltosunun nasıl dalgalandığını ve kır atın nasıl dörtnala koştuğunu şimdi o insanlar bir görseydi.
Reklam
don't try to fight the storm, you'll tumble overboardAlıntı
bir gemi bir limanda bile batabilir, peki bir de denizin ortasında başına ne gelir, bir düşünsene!
My turn to state an equation: colonization = "thing-ification."
I hear the storm. They talk to me about progress, about "achievements," diseases cured, improved standards of living.
I am talking about societies drained of their essence, cultures trampled underfoot, institutions undermined, lands confiscated, religions smashed, magnificent artistic creations destroyed, extraordinary possibilities wiped out.
A Silent vow
He had been hunting for her since the moment she was taken from him.
His mate.
He barely remembered his own name. And only recalled it because
his three companions spoke it while they searched for her across violent
and dark seas, through ancient and slumbering forests, over storm-swept
mountains already buried in snow.
He stopped long enough to feed his body and allow his companions a
few hours of sleep. Were it not for them, he would have flown off, soared
far and wide.
But he would need the strength of their blades and magic, would need
their cunning and wisdom before this was through.
Before he faced the dark queen who had torn into his innermost self,
stealing his mate long before she had been locked in an iron coffin. And
after he was done with her, after that, then he’d take on the cold-blooded
gods themselves, hell-bent on destroying what might remain of his mate.
So he stayed with his companions, even as the days passed. Then the
weeks.
Then months.
Still he searched. Still he hunted for her on every dusty and forgotten
road.
And sometimes, he spoke along the bond between them, sending his
soul on the wind to wherever she was held captive, entombed.
I will find you.
Reklam
Reklam