Meanwhile, in WTF Writing Land

[breezeshadow]

The angels came to him in the night, the moonlight making their wings shine even through the curtains covering the windows. Their eyes were even brighter, without pupils, an endless white fire that made him back up against the bed, wrapping his arms around his legs, whimpering. Their hands and feet were wrapped in white cloth, with only their long, bony fingers sticking out as they all raised their left hand toward him. He could feel the air slowly chilling, a breeze coming from no where, and he shook his head frantically.

"Why did you not answer your summonings, mage?" The voice was an eerie monotone that echoed off of the walls of his room.

"I had to." He looked over at the angel who spoke, though really they all looked the same in the weird light. "I was not competent."

"It is not you who decides competency." He had no idea which one had spoken, and they all lowered their hands, staring right into his soul. "You have failed the Lords."

"No." He shook his head again. "No, I beg you. Give me a Trial by Light."

They were all silent, staring at thim, the air becoming as still as ice. Then they all nodded. "Very well. Trial by Light at the next sunrise. Be there or be disgraced."

And then they all vanished, leaving only a faint twinkle in the air behind.

Comments

[raze]

Iiiinteresting. Something about this reminded me of accounts of alien encounters, in terms of the mood described.