The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

On Watch


She’s standing there, arms still coated in silver, bare of the charcoal grey bands she’s often formed of the substance. No blood on her body, but there’s sweat in the hair that’s come loose from her braid. It’s not a good sign.

Ice Queen pulls her gaze from Skylight to look out on the mountain pass she’d been guarding.

It’s carnage. Pools of silver shimmer in the hollows and nooks of the grassy space, welling up around roots of the trees. There are bodies all across the pass, bloody, missing limbs and body parts, sometimes most of themselves, having soaked up the silver as they died.

Ice Queen takes a breath. It’s cool in the morning breeze. This must have been the pass Skylight thought they wouldn’t pass through then. She couldn’t personally guard two paths at once.

There’s stirring somewhere out there. Maybe it’s a scavenger, maybe a soldier who somehow survived.

Skylight’s eyes and face don’t change. She swings into a sideways kick, arm shot out on instinct, more of the silver fluid flying from her and killing whatever was out there instantly.


Skylight drops back to neutral, waiting, breathing softly. She looks at Ice Queen from the corner of her eyes.

Ice Queen comes to stand beside her. “I’ll take watch.”


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