“I think I’ll stand, actually,” Donovan said. Linda offered a wary, almost parental look as she joined the increasingly-uncomfortable onlookers.
“Very well,” Keel replied. There was a righteousness to his posture that was not often present. Typically Keel seemed the pious sort who might travel from town to town, tending to the sick and praying for the dead, asking nothing in return. Now, he looked as likely to pray for Sol to immolate your impure soul as to shine upon your crops. Continue reading “The Storm, Part Three”
The Church of the True Believers was perhaps Skymoore’s most magnificent building. The humble cathedral, made from pink, yellow, and blue crystal, stood alone in few acres of well-kept grass and flowers, but the light of Sol reflecting off the building seemed to fill the space around it, granting it a presence bigger than its physical form.
It was here that Keel Dal Everwind arrived at sunrise every single morning, and it was here that Keel Dal Everwind spent most of his day. He worked here, he ate here, he socialized here. It was here that Keel met his first love, composed his first song, ate his first pesto sandwich, and did so many other things that gave his life meaning. Continue reading “The Storm, Part One”