Jonas Grant
Everything I've ever bothered to draw or write, all stuffed in one place so I stop losing it.
"Shen tried her best to stop giggling, then added, as sweetly as she could, “I’m sorry…” though her eyes said otherwise.
Jan gave up with a distressed groan, “I hate you,” he declared, “you’re a bad person.”"
"“Did you use hand motions?” There was such suspicion, such veiled threat in those words that Jan immediately shook his head.
“No, but it kept slipping away and I had to chase it across the room…” Golwen chuckled at the thought. Yes, that made more sense than a young Sodanii blacksmith succumbing to dark magic on his first spell."
"Patrick hated Uma already. He missed the open fields and bright colors of his home village, by the Median sea. Uma, on the border between Ropa and Soden, alternated between snow and mud, usually coupled with lots of dust, so the snow itself always seemed grey. Chimneys rose from the undercity and high into the sky, belching out dark opaque smoke that always gave the sky a grey tint, making this greyish palette even more oppressive."
"Gabriel looked back to the altar and, with a deep sigh, started talking. To Jan, to the chapel, to the air itself. He just needed to talk, to speak words no one had ever been willing to heed, “I thought it was my fault, they tell you it’s your fault… But I tried not to be a dark mage, I tried to be good. Why do they tell you it’s a choice? It’s not, it’s not like… I don’t know! Like choosing mace over sword, it’s like a… Growth. Once it’s in you, it never goes away.” He raised a hand and two marble benches from the back rows were torn off the floor, “But they didn’t want it to go away. ‘Gabriel, lift this object.’” He had the bench rise even further up, “’Gabriel, crush that puppy.’” He then balled his fist and the blocks of stone crumbled to dust. “’Gabriel, kill that man.’” He lowered his hand and raised his head."
"Why Fieldmaster Denaud chose to perform Jan’s funeral before Uma’s central fountain, its white marble stained brown precisely under Denaud’s feet, was left unsaid, though everyone knew he was making a statement here, to the clergy and to Uma itself.
La Légion Des Morts would not be circumvented, it would not be bribed and it would never be bullied. Not by the clergy, not by the Magistrate, not by anyone."