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The Bittersweet Smell of Jasmine
by Forn Clakes Sun Jun 14, 2009 9:50 am
Obf 2
The Dhaka was doing reasonably well since its opening and Sabri sat in her Haven beneath the safety of several layers of concrete, safe from the bitter sun that brings swift agony; and she knew agony.
The incense burnt low, lit by her trusted retainer, Vani, with whom she plans to one day Ghoul. But not quite yet. Firstly, Sabri had to establish herself capable in this new city prior to any such thoughts. She had heard that the Prince would be holding court this coming Monday and a mixture of excitement and fear. Sabri was a friend to both.
Jasmine. That was the smell that filled her office and the only smell she could ever stand to have around her. She lost her Jasmine a few years before and so the tang of bittersweet memory would filter through with each incense stick.
Sabri never cried, it wasn't the way of things. She was a monster, a Demon of the night, a nightmare made flesh. Instead, she sat in the cloying smoke of Jasmine and focused that pain to something more productive.
The Dhaka was doing reasonably well since its opening and Sabri sat in her Haven beneath the safety of several layers of concrete, safe from the bitter sun that brings swift agony; and she knew agony.
The incense burnt low, lit by her trusted retainer, Vani, with whom she plans to one day Ghoul. But not quite yet. Firstly, Sabri had to establish herself capable in this new city prior to any such thoughts. She had heard that the Prince would be holding court this coming Monday and a mixture of excitement and fear. Sabri was a friend to both.
Jasmine. That was the smell that filled her office and the only smell she could ever stand to have around her. She lost her Jasmine a few years before and so the tang of bittersweet memory would filter through with each incense stick.
Sabri never cried, it wasn't the way of things. She was a monster, a Demon of the night, a nightmare made flesh. Instead, she sat in the cloying smoke of Jasmine and focused that pain to something more productive.
Forn Clakes
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