Once upon agony…

"What beauty," I hushed. "What beauty in decay, what truth herein! I was ne'er given a second breath. When I drank from Aethel's pale veins, the curtain was shut - all the anguish and glory thence stems from that one bloody kiss."

All around it stands now, this Labyrinth of sort - the oblique Maze and its fetid breath, circling the dark silhouette I do now become, l'heure de la sorcière is coming. Hurry daemon Dim, fleet to thy tryst!

She waits there yon the traitor's tower.

And I contemplate, kneeling on the edge of the last building before the gap - a straight twenty metres fall below - the distance I must now leap, erstwhile my tale ends and all that I've suffered account to naught. No, I must make that jump, for my beloved and for the traitor.

Dare!

In one swift move, I unsheathe the sgian dubh and hold it beneath the moon sickle. There it shines with argent brilliance, before my gaze in glory - see!? How that blade slid across the white warmth of Aethel, and what malignance it curled unto the world? That perfect Damascus blade, of two hundred fine layers of steel welded by strong, cunning hands, sharpened to perfection, here in the firm grip of my fist, bestowed unto me for darker designs.

Dare!

Rushing back away from the gap I brace myself for the jump. Hiding the blade away, I concentrate on the task at hand. Triumph, perhaps, but horrible failure if I fall, and it would end my life and my tale. No, I must succeed. The Maze doth not avail.

The wicked have wings.