Literature
No One Mourns The Wicked
The blackened ground held its silence, only through the mirror could she witness the final moments. The exterminator catching the collapsing corpse of her reanimated brother, the hanyou screaming as the clay body of the long dead miko shattered, the monk watching, mouth agape as his hand sealed. The murderess stood alone. The hand that had released the holy arrow still rested against her cheek and the bow in position as if awaiting another arrow to be knocked to its deadly arch.
Through the reflection, she watched, as the four walked slowly away never looking back. Never admiring the strengths of the foe they had defeated. Not that she expec