prologue

❝no ashes are lighter than those of incense,
and few things burn out sooner❞ -walter savage landor

"What's that smell?" I ask.

He turns, revealing a small flame. "Incense."

"Hmm." I quirk an eyebrow. "Why?"

"It masks the other scents."

I sniff lightly; nothing but the bitter sweet smell again. "What scents?"

"The blood."

ᶜᵒᵖʸʳᶤᵍʰᵗ - ᶠᵃᶰᵈᵒᵐᵃᶤᶰ
ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ - ᵇʸ ᶰʸᶜᵗᵒᵖʰᶤˡᶤᵃᶜ_