Must . . . Reach . . . 20,000 Words

Stuck at 13,000. Only 4,000 behind. There's still hope I can catch up if I ignore a few things like um . . . work . . . or feeding the cats . . . or bathing my child . . . .

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There was a moment, where Jisel and Gwen merely looked at one another, the one weeping blood, the other gasping frantically for air.

The hall was silent, save for the high-pitched sob that came from Jisel. The madness slowly left her eyes, replaced by a cold glaze of resignation. Gwen’s shoulders slumped in relief as the waves of pain, madness, and anger faded to nothing – and yet her heart was pounding, her chest tight with anxiety.

Jisel made a sound that would haunt Gwen’s nightmares for years to come, a cross between a soft mewl and a hiccup.

“How could you betray your own people?” she whispered, blood running down her wrist and spattering the chamber’s marble floor. “You wish to protect the Queen? So be it. After all, my life had no value. Reap the rewards of your decisions, My lady Empath.”