The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

The Dark and the Light


Where the light meets the dark, hands wound together like an unspoken promise, backs met and hands on their swords.

She shakes out hair as golden as her light and smiles. “In your shadow,” she whispers, as she’s whispered many times before.

His hair falls darkly across his eyes. “In your light.”

They stand, hands falling away from each other, raising their swords. He vanishes into darkness; she disappears into light—each wielding power of what anyone else can see. Invisible but tangible, they move as one weapon in two blades.

For what is light without dark, darkness without light?


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