449 Maker's Punishment

Doevm sat at the foot of the bed, took in a deep breath, and called out a name: "Maker."

A few seconds passed with no visible change, and just as Doevm was about to call for her again, he sensed a subtle distortion in reality, like a tremor along a spider's thread.

Bar patrons drinking and cursing beneath the floorboards fell dead quiet. One by one the dust particles, careless dancing in the stale air, turned rigid under flickering light crystals which, in the intervals between light and dark, grew brighter. Doevm's shadow was repeatedly thrown onto the ground then swallowed within a sea of black, weaker with each interval. It dove away from its apathetic owner towards the door. Suddenly Maker was there, and Doevm's shadow was not.

Maker was as radiant as ever in her usual white dress, her flawless appearance more doll-like than human as her dainty feet hovered above the dirty floorboards. She was radiant, beautiful, and as dangerous as they come.