Servants of the Dark: Excerpt "The Guard's Candle"

[bending_sickle]

Down the far tunnel a light approached him and in came a small man. Not young, but stunted from a life of malnutrition. He wore a black mark on his lips. As he stood guard over the days, Bird observed him for want of other distraction. The man never spoke when others came to him and his black mark never faded though he would often rub at it absently.

~~

She was not marked. She would not sully her skin with a half-victory or mercy, place her word out for others to see.

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"Can you talk without telling?"

~~

The candle sputtered and died. The quiet man lit another. Bird forgot how many he had lit so far.

~~

It’s the wrong spark. We cannot light the fire with that. Cast it into the water.

~~

“Anything that burns, will do so,” (s)he whispered, unseeing, in the dark.
“Anything that can burn, will do so,” (s)he whispered, “once exposed to the right spark.”