No amount of icy chill could touch her. Not after the flames forged her very essence back to life, cursing her eyes with the color of rubies.
Marked.
She walked alone. Her only companion was a glistening fiery spear forged. All other weapons, all other items, crisped, charred, and ashed in her hands. Even her spirit guide, the eagle, had blazed like a phoenix when it touched her.
Marked.
And the Marked were walkers, forced to do the bidding of the flames. Good and Evil. Against the Strong and the Weak. From the Rich and the Poor. The flames knew no morals, no mercy, and no end.
Inspired by artist Sangrde’s ‘Guardian of the North Mountain‘ from Deviantart.
