1. Micaiah Blightbane

    Private Plans We Make

    It seemed Micaiah would never know whether they could expect truth or madness from the horse’s mouth — not now that the metaphorical horse himself was in the room. And waving around the figurative elephant to match, no less; metaphysical animals aside, Micaiah managed not to startle at the...
  2. Micaiah Blightbane

    Private Tides of Woe

    Some things become so ingrained over time, slow, insidious wriggle into the psyche, as to leave one oblivious to their own oddity, even where it strikes another strange: the way Micaiah appeared perfectly dry, whites untouched by dirt or rain while riding in the midst of a downpour, for one...
  3. Micaiah Blightbane

    Private Plans We Make

    There was a dissonance to the graying lines of age, like the crackle of old paint across the smooth face of ancient canvas. It had never sat well with Micaiah, aesthete that they were, and obsessed as they were with things lost - with the grim, offensive reality that time passed in their...
  4. Micaiah Blightbane

    Private Plans We Make

    It chafed where even the metal of their collar and the leather of the saddle did not — the familiarity of this place. Part wist, part resentment, each plodding step forward lived somewhere between the petting of fur backwards and the pulling of teeth: all painful, unwieldy friction, the oil and...
  5. Micaiah Blightbane

    Micaiah Blightbane

    Not much survives the father. Not the widow, though she does not die; finds a new man to sire her children, rather, wan and stiff as the corpse she’s only just put to mausoleum, and more hateful in life than her late husband would prove as a revenant. She is a new woman entirely, by all...
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