It ends with a sword. He raises a hand to the wound in his cheek. The skin has sealed, yet a scar remains–Tessaiga’s parting blow. Somewhere beneath the tumult of the waves lies his brother’s precious blade. For the first time since he laid eyes upon it, he feels no urge to retrieve it. He

Seems kind of paradoxical even to say, but here we are at last! Wow, I feel such a mix of emotions right now: exhilaration, relief, sadness. Yesterday when I posted the last chapter, I actually teared up. I even had this strange reluctance to hit the “Publish” button because I knew that that would be

– 34 – .equilibrium. Time does not slow for the undying. A year passes in a moment, as it does for all those who have reached a certain age. And though they no longer care to keep a tally of its passing, they mourn it just the same. It is a handful of such moments

A torn battlefield. A rusted sword. A silent curse. Blood spills out over the filthy ground. A cruel black beak dips down to taste it. Hate chokes her heart, but her power is gone. She cries as he drags her away.

– 33 – .the void. She stands in a pall of darkness, her footsteps echoing with every step she takes. Where the Jewel has brought her, she cannot imagine. And yet it is here with her, too. In the twist and swell of the shadows that surround her, she feels its gloating presence. Why tarry,

I had a hell of a fun time writing Abaddon, though it was most definitely a challenge. The “prosetry” style alone is very demanding/unforgiving, but writing from Stasis!Sesshoumaru’s POV adds a whole additional layer of complexity. Personally, I think Sesshoumaru is a difficult character to portray in any fic–with him being a demon and all.