The fragrance of her shampoo drifted upward, shimmering and elusive as a heatwave over a desert highway, transporting her for a moment back to her can...lit bubblebath, Tchaikovsky in the earbuds, even through the meticulous pussy shave, the douche...hell, even through the enema. Not that she expected to be fucking tonight; it was just part of the ritual preparation, mutated from her? rites of purification before a ballet recital. Since she'd been fired from the dance company for showing up late. Besides, reflected light would be yellow – not the flash of blue Ardt had seen.He stepped out of the house almost involuntarily; like all blacksmiths, his forge was open air though covered for the most part in a long roof for shade. The movement caught Yren’s eye and the boy looked up. Seeing Ardt, his face opened into a wide smile.“I’ve finished it!” He called out, reaching down and raising the sword. Ardt noticed that it was still blue but there was no glow to it anymore. “I think Sir Givens. More

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