“I am the Rook, child. I am cobwebs and steel and feathers. I am comforting and dangerous. Like a forgotten place. Like a blade. Like hope. And I am Lord of this realm.”
“But the Troll King…the Structure Queen…” she began to say, but the Rook cut her off.
“Look around you,” The Rook spread out his arms, his voluminous cape opening like wings. “Their kingdoms are lost. Withered. Rotting. Does this land look worth saving? As if it could be saved.”
She looked at the crumbling tomb that was once a palace, a grand hallway that was now little more than moldering walls. Whatever this place was, it was from that glory now.
“Your cause is dead, darling. And it is upon the dead that I dine. Your companions, they may rule, but I feast! Would you dine with me? Would you crack through that shell of yours, and sit at my right claw? I can offer you so much, child, if only you have the strength to take it.”
She felt the sphere in her hand warm, echoing the anger in heart. “I may not be much,” she said. “But I am no child.”
Photo by J.R. Blackwell
Costume by Jared Axelrod, J.R. Blackwell & Russell Collins
Modeled by Russell Collins