White Mage Quotes

Maniac kept trying, but he still couldn’t see it, this color business. He didn’t figure he was white any more than the East Enders were black. He looked himself over pretty hard and came up with at least seven different shades and colors right on his own skin, not one of them being what he would call white (except for his eyeballs, which weren’t any whiter than the eyeballs of the kids in the East End).

The Democratic Party of the USA would greatly appreciate your cooperation with re-installing Mr & Mrs Pinocchio into the White House.

I am black, I am white, and I am every color in-between.

often, one can be in love with who they think someone is, while being blinded by their own desires. And just as often, instead of being in love with a lover, one is in love with love.

Cool wind soothed her. She could breathe sweet air. The only heat she felt was the warm, familiar heat from the mage's body. Opening her eyes, she saw that she stood close to him. Raising her head, she gazed up into his face...and felt a swift, sharp ache in her heart. Raistlin's thin face glistened with sweat, his eyes reflected the pure, white flame of the burning bodies, his breath came fast and shallow. He seemed lost, unaware of his surroundings. And there was a look of ecstasy on his face, a look of exultation, of triumph. "I understand," Crysania said to herself, holding onto his hands. "I understand. This is why he cannot love me. He has only one love in this life and that is his magic. To this love he will give everything, for this love he will risk everything!

Alex Stowe, head mage of Artimé, stood alone at the helm of the magical white boat called Claire, speeding eastward over the waves. The island, his friends, and all the people who were gathered on the glorious green lawn grew smaller and smaller behind him. He didn’t know where he was going. He only knew that his identical twin brother, Aaron, was out there somewhere. In trouble, definitely, but alive—Alex could feel the life in his own broken soul. He also knew that there was no one else in the world who would rescue Aaron.

USA white supremacists do not seem to realize they are probably of mixed race.

It took less than a year from first detection of COVID-19 for it to rampage through the White House staff and the President of the USA.

Many of us in the early days of COVID-19 realized there was a fool in the White House spewing lies to the masses.

COVID-19 is in charge of the White House.

Odd looks were probably something that would happen to me for the rest of my life. Well, actually they would probably stop at fifty, when I had a legitimate reason to have white hair.

At first, the pinpricks felt like hot fly bites down the soft white skin over her spine and along her shoulders. The first time Rina flinched, the mage had admonished her harshly. She hadn’t moved again.

Raistlin lay on the floor, his skin white, his breathing shallow. Blood trickled from his mouth. Kneeling down, Caramon lifted him in his arms. "Raistlin?" he whispered. "What happened?" "That's what happened," Tanis said grimly, pointing. Caramon glanced up, his gaze coming to rest on the dragon orb - now grown to the size Caramon had seen in Silvanesti. It stood on the stand Raistlin had made for it. Caramon sucked in his breath in horror. Terrible visions of Lorac flooded his mind. Lorac insane, dying... "Raist!" he moaned, clutching his brother tightly. Raistlin's head moved feebly. His eyelids fluttered, and he opened his mouth. "What?" Caramon bent low, his brother's breath cold upon his skin. "What?" "Mine..." Raistlin whispered. "Spells...of the ancients...mine...Mine..." The mage's head lolled, his words died. But his face was calm, placid, relaxed. His breathing grew regular.

Our government was put in place when elected officials were a necessity. With current technology and rising corruption it has become a burden. The only way to fix that is to take this country back to what it was intended—a government run by the people.

My little Kathyln, I know you think you did nothing wrong. Everyone gets angry and fights for what they believe in. What I want you to know, my little baby, is that before you are a princess, you are a person. It doesn’t matter if someone is a king, a servant, a powerful mage, an elf, or a dwarf. A person is a person. “Everyone is different and that is what makes everyone special in their own ways. Don’t hate someone for something they can’t change. What if people didn’t like you because you have round ears or because you have beautiful white skin? Or a perky little nose?

Every place I looked had yet another crazy surprise, and it was equally horrifying and fascinating. Like the literal white elephant statue in the room we passed that had been hidden by the couch, but that stood proud, with his trunk raised, and honest-to-Goddess anal beads wrapped around the trunk like some kind of mental decoration.

The girl standing before me wore a dress of pure white that made her seem about six feet tall. The dress was heavy enough it pulled her back straight, and she stood proudly, the train of the dress spread neatly behind her. Her lips were as red as roses, her eyes outlined in black kohl. Her dark hair had been bundled at the nape of her neck, braided and folded as required, a few curls springing loose to caress her pale shoulders, which were bare. That girl was one of the most powerful mages to ever live. And that girl was me.

Pounce trotted past the newcomers, carrying a black kitten with a white bib and mittens in his mouth. The small creature hung in Pounce’s grip, ears flat, hindquarters and tail curled up. It seemed as dejected as a body could be at my cat’s handling… My cat dropped his captive in Aniki’s lap. He then lectured her in meows, saying, I cannot let you maul me about. Do it to him. …Kora grabbed Pounce. “Why her?” she asked, holding Pounce up. “I’m a mage. By rights I should have a cat. You like Aniki more than you like me!” Ersken said, “I think Pounce is in a giving mood today.” Here came my cat with a second kitten. This one was a light and dark brown ball with thin black stripes and spots. Pounce dropped it in front of Kora.

As concepts like people-pleasing and self-care become more mainstream, complex ideas like boundaries are often diluted in ways that ultimately discourage us from building healthy relationships. We’re told that if someone doesn’t bring us “love and light at all times,” we should “cut them out.” We’re told that if someone disagrees with us, we should leave them behind to “protect our peace.” We’re told that if someone can’t meet every single one of our needs, we “deserve better.” These one-dimensional platitudes ignore the reality that human relationships are complicated. They impede our healing by encouraging us to seek an unattainable standard, and they prevent us from looking inward to assess how we may be contributing to our own unhappiness or disempowerment.

One can do only so much to control one's life,' Ernestine said, and with that, a summary statement as philosophically potent as any she cared to make, she returned the wallet to her handbag, thanked me for lunch, and, gathering herself almost visibly back into that orderly, ordinary existence that rigorously distanced itself from delusionary thinking, whether white or black or in between, she left the car. Instead of my then heading home, I drove crosstown to the cemetery and, after parking on the street, walked in through the gate, and not quite knowing what was happening, standing in the falling darkness beside the uneven earth mound roughly heaped over Coleman's coffin, I was completely seized by his story, by its end and by its beginning, and, then and there, I began this book. I began by wondering what it had been like when Coleman had told Faunia the truth about that beginning--assuming that he ever had; assuming, that is, that he had to have. Assuming that what he could not outright say to me on the day he burst in all but shouting, "Write my story, damn you!" and what he could not say to me when he had to abandon (because of the secret, I now realized) writing the story himself, he could not in the end resist confessing to her, to the college cleaning woman who'd become his comrade-in-arms, the first and last person since Ellie Magee for whom he could strip down and turn around so as to expose, protruding from his naked back, the mechanical key by which he had wound himself up to set off on his great escapade. Ellie, before her Steena, and finally Faunia. The only woman never to know his secret is the woman he spent his life with, his wife. Why Faunia?

Did you find something?” asked Mara. She wore sage-green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top. Why she wore such an outfit, he had no idea. She had her own unique sense of fashion, to say the least. Not that he minded it at all. It was part of many reasons why he liked her.  As she approached him, she lowered her big brown eyes in keen interest and studied at the tracks. She chewed a cinnamon stick and grinned.

Did you find something?”asked Mara. She wore sage-green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top. Why she wore such an outfit, he had no idea. She had her own unique sense of fashion, to say the least. Not that he minded it at all. It was part of many reasons why he liked her.   As she approached him, she lowered her big brown eyes in keen interest and studied at the tracks. She chewed a cinnamon stick and grinned.

soldiers carrying Mara. They continued on, to the highest part of the city, beneath the Temple of the Goddess Nestria, the Goddess of the Sky. To Mara’s house, the House of Viceroy Lei and Lady Malvia, daughter of the king and second in line to the throne.  They were going to be furious, Talis knew he was in serious trouble for taking Mara out on the hunt. But he couldn’t think about any of that, all that mattered now was Mara’s life. As the soldiers carried Mara into the white marble mansion, Talis worried that her wounds were too grave to cure. Today was the worst day,

father’s men had pursued. Lad, don’t want you dying like your brother, you’re the last son of the Storm family lineage, and all.  Finding nothing all day, he scanned the muddy ground for tracks, kicking away needles and sticks. Off to the corner of his eye he spotted an indentation in the wet leaves. He strode over and bent down, flipping his hair away from his eyes for a better look. A thrill raced through him at the sight of fresh tracks. He raised his head and studied a sloshing stream blanketed with a soft mist, and squinted at a path illuminated by the four moon sisters. This was his kill.  “Did you find something?” said Mara, his best friend. She wore sage-green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top, why, he had no idea. She was funny like that. As she came alongside, she raised her big brown eyes in concern, and glanced at the tracks. She chewed a cinnamon stick and frowned.  He grunted in response and pointed a short

And I do, in fact, know how to read.” I look to Fain. “Are you familiar with The Realm Apothecarium?” “Y-yes, of course,” Fain stammers, nodding disjointedly. “That’s the premier guild text.” He gives a nervous titter and shakes his head. “I’ve a hard time making heads or tails of the bulk of it.” “I’ve worked every tonic in there to at least one-eighth capacity using substandard, cheap ingredients,” I state flatly. Fain blinks at me. “That’s, er, impressive.” “And Principia Mathematica. Have you studied that?” Fain laughs. “Of course I’ve worked out most of the sets. Almost to the end...” “I finished it two years ago.” Fain stares at me, silent. I turn to face Vale. He’s gone very quiet and still, but I can sense the unsettled heat churning behind his fiery gaze. “How about you, Vale? Have you worked through it?” I purposely address him informally, even though it’s considered disrespectful. I mean to insult him, and he knows it. He narrows white-hot eyes on me, his words clipped. “It was a bit beyond me.” Fain blows out a deep breath and shakes his head. I turn back to Fain. “Vale and his sister think that because I’m poor, I can’t appreciate fine things. That I’m illiterate.” I pause, looking them both over boldly. “I can see that things won’t be that different here in some ways. My family and I are still poor. Still viewed as lower class. But that’s fine. No one is trying to kill us, and I can make a better life for us. I’m an apothecary. A good one. We’ll find our way among the lower classes.” My eyes flick toward Vale, whose storming gaze is hot on mine, and I hold his gaze with searing defiance before returning to Fain. “I won’t ask you to suffer my presence any longer than is necessary, Mage Quillen. I’ve polluted your dwelling long enough.

The climate defines your skin color. A white person from a cold country will become a black person in the tropics, but the adaptation process takes thousands of years.

Hindi sila Cinderella, Snow White, o Red Riding Hood ang aming role model. Tinuruan kaming hindi kailangang inililigtas ang mga babae, na puwede kaming maging bayani, mga pangunahing tauhan ng aming sariling kuwento. Ang mga babae ay hindi mababa sa mga lalaki, hindi sa henerasyong ito o sa mga nauna rito.” - Night Owl: Edisyong Filipino (p. 328, Ang Bilin ng aking Ina, Huwag Maniwala kay Cindirella)

Geralt knew what to expect, so with stoical calm he endured the glances of the enchantresses, brimming with insalubrious curiosity, and the enigmatic smirks of the sorcerers. Although Yennefer assured him that propriety and tact forbade the use of magic at this kind of event, he didn’t believe the mages were capable of restraining themselves, particularly since Yennefer was provocatively thrusting him into the limelight. And he was right not to believe. He felt his medallion vibrating several times, and the pricking of magical impulses. Some sorcerers, or more precisely some enchantresses, brazenly tried to read his thoughts. He was prepared for that, knew what was happening, and knew how to respond. He looked at Yennefer walking alongside him, at white-and-black-and-diamond Yennefer, with her raven hair and violet eyes, and the sorcerers trying to sound him out became unsettled and disorientated; confronted with his blissful satisfaction, they were clearly losing their composure and poise. Yes, he answered in his thoughts, you’re not mistaken. There is only she, Yennefer, at my side, here and now, and only she matters. Here and now. And what she was long ago, where she was long ago and who she was with long ago doesn’t have any, doesn’t have the slightest, importance. Now she’s with me, here, among you all. With me, with no one else. That’s what I’m thinking right now, thinking only about her, thinking endlessly about her, smelling the scent of her perfume and the warmth of her body. And you can all choke on your envy. The enchantress squeezed his forearm firmly and moved closer to his side. “Thank you,” she murmured, guiding him towards the tables once again. “But without such excessive ostentation, if you don’t mind.” “Do you mages always take sincerity for ostentation? Is that why you don’t believe in sincerity, even when you read it in someone’s mind?” “Yes. That is why.” “But you still thank me?” “Because I believe you,” she said, squeezing his arm even tighter

Many of them were not problems at all, only the perception of a problem, and simply delaying a decision would make it less of a perceived problem with every passing day.

Kiernan’s snow-white Draca Cat moved silently to his side and gave him a nudge that almost sent him to the ground for a fifth time. Smiling, he reached out to pet the massive Draca whose head came up to his chest. Extremely intelligent and fierce fighters, the cats were said to have been used in battle by the Mages of long ago.

him from his goal. If they planned carefully, they could make their escape out into the jungle under the cover of darkness. But only after they had a chance to eat and regain their strength.  When he finished the bath, he found new clothes waiting on a bench: white linen pants and

The soldiers’ boots clapped against the cobblestone streets as they marched past the arena, finally winding around until they reached the gates to the upper city. Up the snaking rise, they charged past merchant shops and eyes that gawked at the soldiers carrying Mara. They continued on, to the highest part of the city, beneath the Temple of the Goddess Nestria, the Goddess of the Sky. To Mara’s house, the House of Viceroy Lei and Lady Malvia, daughter of the king and second in line to the throne.  They were going to be furious, Talis knew he was in serious trouble for taking Mara out on the hunt. But he couldn’t think about any of that, all that mattered now was Mara’s life. As the soldiers carried Mara into the white marble mansion, Talis worried that her wounds were too grave to cure. Today was the worst day, and he was all to blame. Why did he have to chase after the boar? Two servants ran up and gasped when they noticed Mara, and they quickly helped her inside.  Lady Malvia rushed towards them, her silver robe swirling behind. “What has happened to my daughter? She’s so pale, can someone tell me why she’s so pale?

we’re stuck down in all this gloom looking for a stupid boy?” A boy? Talis thought. Why were they looking for him? He pointed at a mausoleum far off in the corner, and Mara nodded and followed him as he stalked away from the sorcerers. The white light from the sorceress disappeared and Talis stopped, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Instead of voices, he heard only the lonely hiss of steam from an air vent. He continued creeping along, glancing

Snow-crested peaks thrust up far ahead, blazing white and fierce in the late afternoon sun. He measured the sun's height. "There are cotters in the next valley who'll provide beds for the night and a tasty meal." Jilian nodded. "Good, my butt will appreciate a rest. Dang, I wasn't going to admit that," she added sheepishly. He shot her a sideways glance and found himself smiling again. This time it didn't feel as rusty.

Spread before them past the gate was the Arena of the Sej Elders, formed of gigantic white granite blocks, rising over everything in the lower part of the city. Stone towers lined the wide avenue leading up to the arena. They had to move faster.

Did you find something?” said Mara, his best friend. She wore sage-green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top, why, he had no idea. She was funny like that. As she came alongside, she raised her big brown eyes in concern, and glanced at the tracks. She chewed a cinnamon stick and frowned.

Did you find something?” said Mara, his best friend. She wore sage-green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top, why, he had no idea. She was funny like that. As she came alongside, she raised her big brown eyes in concern, and glanced at the tracks. She chewed a cinnamon stick and frowned.  He

burned low. The next morning servants brought in bananas, milk, and sweet rice to their room. After breakfast, Madam Vesteria pursed her lips as she inspected them, and satisfied, led them down a white marble hallway, broad and lined with statues of gods, goddesses, and mythical heroes and creatures. They came to the grand foyer, a circular and open room with light streaming in from above, and with one direction leading to a massive carved mahogany door, and opposite, a spiral staircase wound up and around four stories high.  “You will wait here.” Master Vesteria pulled on a long, silken rope that sounded a deep, melodic bell. “Prepare yourselves to meet the young masters of the Five Calazars.” Talis heard the slow clicking of heels down the staircase. Two boys, twins about the same age as Rikar, sauntered down, followed by a girl who appeared a year younger than Mara. Talis laughed to himself, expecting more children from five families. The girl was petite and pale, shy to the point of almost being afraid to glance at them. The twins chuckled as they whispered, staring at Talis as if caught up in some private joke. Their eyes held proud, indifferent expressions. They also were dressed in white, but their clothes were made of woven silk, layered with gold and some black metal.  “Just arrived?” a twin said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Let

every hunting trip his father’s men had pursued. Lad, don’t want you dying like your brother, you’re the last son of the Storm family lineage, and all.  Finding nothing all day, he scanned the muddy ground for tracks, kicking away needles and sticks. Off to the corner of his eye he spotted an indentation in the wet leaves. He strode over and bent down, flipping his hair away from his eyes for a better look. A thrill raced through him at the sight of fresh tracks. He raised his head and studied a sloshing stream blanketed with a soft mist, and squinted at a path illuminated by the four moon sisters. This was his kill.  “Did you find something?” said Mara, his best friend. She wore sage-green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top, why, he had no idea. She was funny like that. As she came alongside, she raised her big brown eyes in concern, and glanced at the tracks. She chewed a cinnamon stick and frowned.  He grunted in response and pointed a short spear with a menacing, curved blade at the stream. This was his hunt and even though he’d failed to even bag anything as big as a deer, he swore he’d do whatever it took to bring it back home to father. Mara shook her head, the movement stubborn and terse, her short, brown hair slashing along her neck. “It’s too late. I’m serious, don’t look at me with those oh-please-Mara eyes of yours.”   “But the prints are fresh, an hour old at the most—”  “What are you trying to prove? We’ve been

Did you find something?”said Mara, his best friend. She wore sage- green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top. Why she wore such a silly outfit, he had no idea. She was eccentric, to say the least. As she came alongside, she raised her big brown eyes in concern and glanced at the tracks. She chewed a cinnamon stick and frowned.

By the time he spotted the City of Naru from afar, moonlight sent long, wiry shadows across the hillside leading up to the towering stone walls. He told himself he could do it. No matter how hard it was to continue carrying her, he was determined to bring her home alive.  Lights flickered from countless braziers mounted hundreds of feet high on the upper part of the city. Naru stood ominous under the garish light of the four moon sisters and as the evening gong sounded from atop a watchtower, Talis knew he had made it.  He stumbled toward the main gates, barely able to stand. A group of soldiers making their rounds noticed and ran over to help.  “Young Master Talis, what’s wrong?” said Baratis, the captain of the guard. His eyes blazed in fear at the sight of Mara. “Is she alive?” “I can’t talk now… open the gates… she’s hurt!”  “Carem and Jorem! Help them,” Baratis shouted. “You! Ride and fetch a healer. Have them run straightaway to House Lei. Now go!” Two soldiers lifted Mara from Talis' arms and carried her while another raced inside the city. Massive steel shafts stared down at them from inside the stone walls as they jogged past. If they weren’t quick about it, she would die. Ahead, Talis could see a soldier speed off on horseback. He prayed that the healer would arrive in time. He ran ahead, urging them to run faster.    Past the gate was the Arena of the Sej Elders, formed of gigantic white granite blocks, rising over everything in the lower part of the city. Stone towers lined the wide avenue leading up to the arena. They had to move faster. The soldiers’ boots clapped against the cobblestone streets as they marched past the arena, finally winding up and around until they reached the gates of the upper city. Up the snaking rise, they charged past merchant shops and eyes that gawked at the soldiers carrying Mara. They continued on to the highest part of the city, beneath the Temple of the Goddess Nestria, the Goddess of the Sky. To Mara’s house, the House of Viceroy Lei and Lady Malvia, daughter of the king and second in line to the throne.  They were going to be furious; Talis knew he was in serious trouble for taking Mara out on the hunt. But he couldn’t think of that, all that mattered was Mara’s life. As the soldiers carried her into the white marble mansion, Talis worried her wounds were too grave to cure. Today was the worst day and he was all to blame. Why did he have to chase after the boar? Two servants ran up and gasped when they noticed Mara and they quickly helped her inside.  Lady Malvia rushed to them, her silver robe swirling.

Did you find something?” said Mara, his best friend. She wore sage-green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top. Why she wore such a silly outfit, he had no idea. She was eccentric, to say the least. As she came alongside, she raised her big brown eyes in concern and glanced at the tracks. She chewed a cinnamon stick and frowned.  He grunted in response and pointed a short spear with a menacing, curved blade at the stream. This was their hunt and even though they’d failed to even bag anything as big as a deer, he swore he’d do anything to bring it back home to father. Mara shook her head, the movement stubborn and terse, her short, brown hair slashing along her neck. “It’s too late. I’m serious, don’t look at me with those

To riot for immigration or to riot for strict border control, that is the question.

when the bright white light popped out in a two-foot expanse, his eyes went wide as he felt childlike wonder. So pretty. So shiny. He could cut all the things with this.

Alec hadn’t noticed the white-robed mage put on the Shield Ring. She punched him in the face, an overlapping series of armored plates snapping over her knuckles an instant before the blow.

Amaranthae turned her head to look at the old mage, white to the lips. “Do you elders know everything?” “Enough to keep ourselves entertained,” the Srinshee said dryly, and Uldreiyn Starym nodded. “ ‘Tis a common mistake of the young and vigorous,” he calmly told the tabletop, “to believe their elders have forgotten to see, or think, or remember things— when what we’ve really forgotten to do is scare younglings into respecting us, thoroughly and often.

Traveling through airports with white powders may get you flagged by TSA as a potential drugs dealer!

Shoshanne nodded and hurried toward the infirmary as Cayla stooped to bury her fingers in the dense black fur some more, and she grinned to herself in a way that made her look kind of similar to the cat. “You can feel how powerful it is,” she said under her breath. “What does the Master want with these? They must be special in some way.” “Well, he’s already got sphynxes and all manner of creatures at that fortress,” I said with a shrug. “Looks like he’s diversifying. What I don’t understand is how the snatcher got them. I’ve never seen anything like this in Illaria, and the automaton is patrolling just east of Serin. At least, I think he is.” “There’s three, though,” Cayla pointed out as she trailed her hand along a pronged horn. “A pack.” I furrowed my brow. “You think the Master sent them out for an attack?” “I would,” Cayla admitted, and she peeled back the beast’s lip to reveal stark white, eight-inch canines. “If I had these at my disposal, I’d send them out in droves to slaughter my enemies. They’re fantastic, how could you not want to utilize this kind of beast as a means to a gruesome end?” “This is why we can’t have pets,” I sighed as Shoshanne emerged from the infirmary. “We have Ruela,” Cayla chuckled. “She’s not a pet, she’s a weapon,” I countered, “and a damn good one.

Maniac Magee was blind. Sort of. "Oh, he could see objects, all right. He could see a flying football or a John McNab fastball better than anybody... "When you think about it, it's amazing all the stuff he didn't see. "Such as, big kids don't like little kids showing them up... "Or a kid who's another color. "Mania kept trying, but he still couldn't see it, this color business. He didn't figure he was white any more than the East Enders were black. He looked himself over pretty hard and came up with at least seven different shades and colors right on his own skin, not one of them being what he would call white... "Which was all a big relief to Maniac, finding out he wasn't really white, because the way he figured, white was about the most boring color of all." - Jerry Spinelli, Maniac Magee

There is a madman in the White House.

When I observe the daytime horizon, I see white sky.

Can I ask why we went with red?” I muttered. “I’m more of a black and white kind of guy to tell you the truth.” “Yes, but you always get blood all over your shirts,” the princess replied as she popped the top button on my shirt open. “I thought we might as well lean into it. This way, if you have to kill someone, you still look nice.

you find something?” asked Mara. She wore sage-green hunting pants and a ridiculously frilly white lace top. Why she wore such an outfit, he had no idea. She had her own unique sense of fashion, to say the least. Not that he minded it at all. It was part of many reasons why he liked her.  As she approached him,

To my friends in Iran, I apologize for President Trumps aggressiveness. I have it assessed as the nasty side effects of billionaire white privilege.

protests. A wound like that was incredibly dangerous. If he didn’t get her to a healer soon, he knew Mara would die. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. After a long while, he was too tired to carry her, so he rested for a bit, his breath heaving and stiff arms and legs protesting. Even though it was almost dark, Talis could see that Mara’s face looked white as chalk. He had to keep going, no matter what, no matter how much his legs and back burned from carrying her. By the time he spotted the City of Naru from afar, moonlight sent long, wiry shadows across the hillside leading up to the towering stone walls. He told himself he could do it. No matter how hard it was to continue carrying her, he was determined to bring her home alive. Lights flickered from countless braziers mounted hundreds of feet high on the upper part of the city. Naru stood ominous under the garish light of the four moon sisters and as the evening gong sounded from atop a watchtower, Talis knew he had made it. He stumbled toward the main gates, barely able to stand. A group of soldiers making their rounds noticed and ran over to help. “Young Master Talis, what’s wrong?” said Baratis, the captain of the guard. His eyes blazed in fear at the sight of Mara. “Is she alive?” “I can’t talk now… open the gates… she’s hurt!” “Carem and Jorem! Help them,” Baratis shouted. “You! Ride and fetch a healer. Have them run straightaway to House Lei. Now go!” Two soldiers lifted Mara from Talis' arms and carried her while another raced atop a horse into the city. Massive steel shafts stared down at them from inside the stone walls as they jogged past. If they weren’t quick about it, she would die. Ahead, Talis could see a soldier speed off on horseback. He prayed that the healer would arrive in time. He ran ahead, urging them to run faster. Past the gate was the Arena of the Sej Elders, formed of gigantic white granite blocks, rising over everything in the lower part of the city. Stone towers lined the wide avenue leading up to the arena. They had to move faster. The soldiers’ boots clapped against the cobblestone streets as they marched past the arena, finally winding up and around until they reached the gates of the upper city. Up the snaking rise, they charged past merchant shops and eyes that gawked at the soldiers carrying Mara. They continued on to the highest part of the city, beneath the Temple of the Goddess Nestria, the Goddess of the Sky. To Mara’s house, the House of Viceroy Lei and Lady Malvia, daughter of the king and second in line to the throne. They were going to be furious; Talis knew he was in serious trouble for going with Mara out on the hunt. But he couldn’t think of that, all that mattered was Mara’s life. As the soldiers carried her into the white marble mansion, Talis worried her wounds were too grave to cure. Today was the worst day and he blamed himself. Why hadn’t he stopped Mara from going after the boar? He could have scared it off. She would have been angry at him, but at least she wouldn’t be injured. Two servants ran up and gasped when they noticed Mara. They quickly helped her inside, shouting for help.

contingent of soldiers with you.” Almost opening his mouth in protest, Killian seemed to think the better of it. “Yes, Madam.” He glanced quickly at Talis and the others. “Shouldn’t our guests come as well? The priests should cleanse them of…of any defilement that may have possessed them on their long voyage.” The Madam frowned. “I suppose that is true. The priests must perform their rites. Go on, now.” Talis wondered what kind of rites they practiced here on the island. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He glanced at Rikar who shook his head slightly in a gesture of disapproval. They followed the twins out of the palace with a group of soldiers leading them north along the gardens until they turned east along the wall. Talis snuck a look at the looming outer walls. So close to freedom, if only the Madam hadn’t sent so many soldiers to mind them. But he couldn’t leave without finding his sword. The way opened up to a park surrounded by a wrought-iron fence. Inside, they reached a stand of mangroves. Small wooden temples dotted the interior, with hundreds of strands of white rope stretched from branch to temple roof. White flags with ancient script in gold ink adorned the ropes. Talis recognized some of the characters: death, mountains, volcano, sky, chaos.  “Lieutenant,” Killian said. “Summon the priests, then be on your way. We can manage things ourselves from here on.

The next morning Talis awoke in a fright. He spotted spindly shadows dancing across the room as the wind knocked the shutters back and forth. He hated waking this way. His cat, the yellow and white Tobias, pounced on his bed, tail jerking crazily as he stared up at the amber feather he’d bought for Mara. It flipped around in the breeze, taunting Tobias. He had mounted the feather on a strand of leather tied to a wooden beam that spanned the ceiling. The cat leapt into the air, trying to swat the feather, but missed it by a few inches.

Black skin absorbs more radiation than white skin.

Karma: COVID-19 infecting a White House that was in ‘China Virus’ denial.

The ‘China Virus’ has taken hostages at the White House.

President Trump has demonstrated that putting a billionaire into the White House does not work, as the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer.

The most dangerous weather condition that I experienced at high altitude was walking out of the observatory to check on astronomers in another building during a snow blizzard. When I was returning to the observatory the conditions progressed to white out, stranding me in a nighttime snow field. I was only able to return to the safety of the observatory by following my footprints in the snow with the flashlight.

Remove the racist from the White House.

We move as one, watching the black voids beyond the path, watching the skies for the mage. Nothing but bright white sky. Thank fuck. I pray that holds. “Ah, there you are!” This is what I get for praying.

Stan landed on my shoulder while I positioned the gems in front of the central wiring hubs, and once the two of us exchanged a nod, I sent out a surge of magic to embed the gems into the eight sentries at the same time. My heart pounded heavy with anticipation as the gems began to give off a steady pulse, and none of us said a word while we waited for the machines to wake up. After a few seconds, the eyes on the steel helms ignited with a blaze of white, and as the collective power of their magical gems shot through my veins, I knew these guys would be a force to be reckoned with. Not only were their personalities distinctly alert, but the energy they gave off was crisp and unyielding, and when their helms slowly turned to look my way, the pulse of the eight gems fell in sync with one another. “Welcome to the army, boys,” I said with a deadly grin. “I’m Mason Flynt.” Then the eight metal soldiers raised their right arms and saluted in unison, and the barrels of their rifles tipped toward the sky at attention.