I suppose I'll have to get used to writing with this hand instead.
I now do so in captivity, while I 8ring my awe to 8ear on the immensity of the Su8juggl8or's high jinx. I took their gesture as plain avowal of my prosecution's futility. With a lone neophyte assigned to the task, how could I view it otherwise? I was sure they'd drawn from the 8ottom of their deck, not intending to squander more competent mercenaries on one who'd made a show of outclassing them all 8efore. 8ut I discovered too l8 that Redglare was their wild card all along.
How is one allowed to 8e raised 8y a dragon in this era? Let alone one of such middling 8lood, the sickly hue of a gutless civil servant. Those of her caste are typically pleased to mount a sluggish choler8ear, or some 8rainless squawking spleenfowl during petty expeditions to plaster seizure notices on gam8lignant property. 8y what fluke was this woman granted such a weapon, permitting her to luxuri8 in these delusions of righteousness?
Something 8locked the light of the un8itten moon, treating the har8or to darkness more grim than what fell this season's apogee. I made the mistake of looking into its eyes, each like a sun concentr8ted into a small jewel, as two hot garnets searing through a 8lack veil. I shut mine quickly, 8ut the more sensitive of them was 8urned irrepara8ly. When I regained sight in the other, there was only red. My fleet was in flames. The neophyte was on deck. Pyralspite, she mentioned through her ridiculous forced grin. She wanted me to know the name of the 8east which was a8le to consume my lusus whole.
My dice were in the hold 8elow, not that my present luck would consent to a favora8le roll anyway. I made a move for my 8lade. She took my arm, which I'm sure she kept as the tiniest of snacks for her ostent8ious custodian. May8e she meant to prove she wouldn't need me in irons to have my su8mission?
8ound or free.
Two, one or none.
I wonder how well she knows it's not what I do with my arms she has to fear?