The lip of the crystal vial was cracked, blue fluid seeped quietly down the side. A clean trail of blue falling from the stained cork, ending in a perfect droplet — racing towards the bottom of the vial.

Meredith placed her finger just below the drop, and watched it pool — filling the whorls of her skin like canals on a forgotten planet. She slid her finger upwards, carefully gathering the falling liquid into a blob.

The liquid was blue, almost dark but not quite. A hint of spring on a cold hillside.

She held her finger up to the lamp, carefully observing the blue smear.

Meredith tucked the vial into her belt, keeping the world on her finger undisturbed. Β She leaned in close, and took a slow breath. The liquid had no true odor, only the barest chill in her nose – a quiet taste on the back of her tongue.

What would it taste like? Her mouth parted, and then closed.

There was a dagger on the desk. The edges of it shone in the lamplight, slick and blue.

The liquid had a purpose. The dagger had a purpose. She had a purpose.

The tiny world on her finger shimmered, a larger world waited outside. A quiet moment here, before. Considering.

A quick taste, and worlds spun – changed by this quiet moment. But which?

Which world would end?

The blue drop sat on Meredith’s finger, a blue death sat on Meredith’s dagger, a blue world waited — hushed, and listening for her answer.

The blue liquid was blue.

It was unconcerned.

[Story on Demand for Belle of Mountains. ]

8 thoughts on “Monkshood

    • Thanks, Belle! I had a great time researching monkshood on wikipedia — I guessed that it was a flower, but I never knew that it was another name for wolfsbane. Thanks for the inspiration.

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