Leo R. Skoble

As the edges of the papers singed and fell to their fate, the ink on the pages written into alchemical and runic patterns gave out a hiss when the fire touched it. Uvior watched them burn, glad they were screaming. He shook his head. No, he felt sorry for the ink and the parchment, being forced to depict such evil things. The papers whistled a terrible, haunting tune as they perished. A high-pitched whine that matched the tone of the tinnitus after an explosion, or a tea kett