Desreal: to my wraith, deliciously sparkly; --

horse stock by colourize @ deviantArt ; photomanipulation by Lore

“ Death is the only god that comes when you call. ”
- Roger Zelazny

I didn’t think this would ever happen. That I’d walk these woods, alone, and think of what I must do, what I haven’t done.

No, not alone. There are winds, yes, there is the rush of water under my feet, and the silent shadows in my wake – Alkonost, white and beautiful, my daughter in mind and spirit; and Jörmungandr, the strange one, the dark one, her footfalls almost inaudible as she moves besides her sister.

Water to fire to air to lightning to water. Full circle.

In my mind, Andürien’s voice grows strangely silent.

We can’t be too close, not if we want to survive this encounter. Not that I’d even want to be near him, but, needs must.

Severus, the wind calls, soft like a kitten’s purr. Wraith, I know you’re there. You can’t avoid me forever, you know.

Not that I didn’t want him to. I would be content with not ever seeing him again, but that isn’t to be: we’ve business to deal with, Severus and I, business that I can’t wait.

I think he’ll approve of it.

I hope he does.

Come out, come out, wherever you are, the winds sing and pull to his own, the freezing winds that surround us both, as it should.

And, just as an aside, he still sparkles.

FENRISULFR
an axe age, a sword age, shields will be cloven;
a wind age, a wolf age, ere the world sinks.