This six is taken from The Grandfather’s Blades, my current WIP. It’s a tad darker than my previous six sentence offerings, but I thought it was time for a change of pace.
The underground chamber was silent but for the sound of the young girl’s blood falling from her lifeless body. The light from the oil lamps fixed to the walls barely reached the centre of the room, where the girl’s body was suspended above an intricate pattern of arcane symbols. Kneeling on the ground beneath her, a blood mage chanted. His bald head bowed as he continued the incantation. The girl’s blood dripped onto his naked body to fuel the magic. More mages stood around him, one on either side, with a third behind. Their mouths moved in concert with the one in the centre, each lending their power to the ritual.
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