From the Pit
by Natasha Duncan-Drake
Cold, dead stone surrounded him; his prison. They had thrown him down here calling him witch, sorcerer, demon.
He had never hurt them. Always tried to help and yet now they beat him and imprisoned him.
That he could have forgiven, but he had been in communion with her, touching her spirit. They had ripped him from that and then they had hurt her. He could not let that pass.
Falling down into the power that lived, inside he called to his lover, to nature, offering his magic, and she answered. Stone crumbled under roots and vines. They would pay.
Everyone is welcome to join the cascade. Full instructions are available here at this weeks intro post.