Sabit walked the lands of the dead.
Sabit at a great height. An unsteady road beneath her feet. Not mud. Not sand. Not stones.
A mountain of all slain by Sabit—every single man and woman.
Ishum, the dead prince of Ghabar, at Sabit’s side.* Ishum, barely the years to be called a man. Ishum, killed by his boyish infatuation. “You should not be here, Sabit. You have much to live for, my beloved. You have much to do in my memory, my love.”
“Ishum, you died and I could not save you. I would have protected you if I could. But there are others I might still help, in the world of the living.”
Ishum’s dead face, aflame with jealousy. “You think you can save your other loves when you could not save me? You are a curse, Sabit. The rank stench of death clings to you, smothering all who come close. Any who stand by your side will join me here in the quiet lands all too soon! You can add their blood to the tally of your slaughter. You will kill your friends.”
Cheers and groans from the heap of corpses. “Hail, Sabit! Hail the murderer! Hail the love-killer! Hail—”
“—Sabit!” Allamu’s voice beckoned to her from beyond the lands of the dead.
*-Sabit’s past with the prince of Ghabar is detailed in Wayfarings of Sabit: Blossom of Ruin.
Wayfarings of Sabit: Bazaar of Death is copyright (c) 2017 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every weekday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon: https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller or http://ipressgames.com/fiction/