Vazba

The bell in the star-square’s tower clanged and a wave of black fire rolled out from the moat around its base and spouted from its five-pointed windows. The Leveler stood motionless on its pinnacle, a tall scarlet-tipped lance in his hand, watching the gouts of flame hit the stones of the square.

Alucio stood at the waterline looking out over the tide as it slowly drew out. He felt its pull even with his eyes closed. The surface of the dark water was otherwise still. Tiny waves lapped the toes of his big black boots and then retreated. Spread around him on the sand was the destruction of the city that had stood here a thousand years ago, before La Mar had broken its walls and tamed the Red People.

I’m unhappy with the colors of magic being such a loaded binary — white vs black. This basic concept needs changed, substituted, or something. Any ideas? Just beyond the tips of Alucio’s outstretched fingers, the pages of the open book fluttered and shone, their plain edges suddenly gilt, limned in green magic. Placing his hands …

Polův skicák Číst dál "