The apparition dissolves in an organic mist. It sinks into the cauldron of oblation. The mists eat away the canyon walls. Crackling streaks, grim-dying roman candles rise from the cauldron. Burps of an awakening creation?
Sound fades away, falls limp. Into the silence the nephrite stair tolls, resounding step by step, coiling into the dim heavens.
WizardThiefFighter
2016-10-31 20:52:36 +0000 UTCForrest Aguirre
2016-10-31 20:43:45 +0000 UTC