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Fatima's Diary
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reflections for the lost
16. Rewards
Spider blood makes a strange mix for what little ink I was able to borrow from my companions, but an even mix seems to wash well from the pen. I wonder if it will last longer than the arachnids? Much happened today, but it makes most sense in my head to start here: the rewards. I have collected a small fortune in items imbued with magical powers. I still marvel at these black, membranous wings that have so far served me well both in combat and reconnaissance. When docile, they hang about my shoulders like a small black cape, if a strangely textured one. When I am soaring, I need only to think upon which direction I need to wheel and suddenly they perform a wingover sending me darting to where my mind leads. At first, when testing and becoming attuned to now having wings, stray thoughts smashed me into a wall or two, almost barreling over Lobar once. I am glad he grabbed my ankles and plucked me from the air before I ran into the wall I had thought upon. I have mastered hovering like Yellow Honeysuckles, and swooping like the Falcon. The swift wingover of the Heron still needs perfection, but my path is well laid before me. Perhaps soon I will be able to spring upon my assailant and then take wing and fly beyond their retaliatory strike. I laugh at my own limits I set upon myself. One day I will not have to fear retribution. I will be the final answer.Previous Entry
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