I wrote a thousand words over the weekend, which pleases me because of how on-the-go we were, with little time to spare amidst all the family activities. I continue to be fascinated by all the unexpected details and revelations that are cropping up in scenes I'd long thought cut-and-dried in my mind's eye. The Sklo Kostel, for example:

They rode deeper into Braclev. The buildings grew progressively larger and grander. Jachym stared with wide eyes, craning his neck as they passed beneath high towers. The avenue opened to a broad plaza. The rubble from a destroyed building lay strewn about, surrounding the broken remnants of walls. Shards of brilliantly colored glass glittered everywhere. Trees that had once ringed the building had been cut, and weedy grasses and candleleaf crowded for growing space around the long-dead stumps. Most of the buildings bordering the plaza showed scorch-marks from fire. Ctibor halted the coach.

"Is this the right one, Excellency?" Ctibor asked.

"I believe so, Ctibor. Thank you," Vondra said, climbing down. "There were seven Kostels in Braclev before the Apostasy. All were destroyed. This would've been the Sklo Kostel, I think. Its walls were said to be completely covered by cut crystal that caught and reflected every mote of light to reach it. Even in moonlight it was said to dazzle."

Jachym stared at the wreckage. It hurt to even imagine how beautiful it once had been. Gauthier, Radek and Dobromil climbed down from the rear bench and joined Jachym.

Jachym knelt and picked up a scarlet crystal the length of his thumb. It glittered brilliantly, even under overcast skies. He tested the pointed edge with a fingertip, and jerked back. A bead of blood, the same color as the shard, welled up on his finger.

22,800 / 90,000 (25.3%)

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