11-22-2018, 05:44 PM
The boy's tone was deliberately infuriating. Only steel will kept him from shuddering as the power danced around him. Oh yes. He will die. Very slowly, and in great pain. Once before he had been touched with the power. Only once. His most powerful memory, one even now, he advanced on slowly, as if circling to the center. The smell of the Roma campfires and the cool of the night; the distant laughter and the weeping fat man at the base of the tree; Lissandra's breathy voice, fearful and angry; the slash of a blade as she hacked at the man in fury; his hand on her shoulder; her spin. Finally, he sighed. He is struck with nothing....Oh yes. Once before. And his reaction had been visceral. Without thought.
Just remembering screwed his anger to a level he did not imagine possible. He was a collapsing star, unfathomable mass falling in on itself, compressing smaller and smaller, denser and denser, gravitational forces and pressure beyond anything imagined...harder, harder, until it reached the final moment, as coldly pressed as was possible to be- absolute stillness.
A hair's breadth more and it would come. The violence in him, the rage, an exploding supernova of fiery fury to scour this entire building to the ground.
The war. Not the battle. The war. The whisper stopped him. Barely. Foolish impulse. Childish. But the emotion still raged inside him. He tried to seek the Chong Rann, sought its soothing depths. It took longer than normal.
The emotion dissipated into that other universe, releasing him from its grip, the red that filmed his eyes fading away, control and normalcy returning. He was surprised to see the other two- the quiet two- standing, hand in hand, as if to leave. He turned his icy gaze to them curiously. Gods? Or perhaps something else. Wolkin? Sentients? He squelched the angry thought of Aria that tried to surface.
The boy's answer was flippant enough. Oh yes. He truly thought himself above humanity. The woman, though....she was still delusional. Clearly. And not simply in her ridiculous beliefs. Obviously, she still needed religion to explain her power. She still thought she could use it for good. She wanted to atone. And she would try. He had no doubt. But the seed was already there.
And growing. A small smile that did not touch his eyes formed. "Strange. I do not seem to recall the United States having queens. Not even New Orleans. Where were you titled? By whom?"
Poor Valeriya didn't see it. She didn't know the demon the seed would form. Inwardly, he cringed as she took her hand, voice regal and sisterly at the same time. She would have to learn. Somehow. But it would not be today.
Though she did give him pause. Hidden in the depths of her flowery words was a thorn whose prick made him smile. A threat. Pity gave way to pride. She would learn. But she was Khylsty first. Idly, he wondered what he would do should Rowan attempt to atone and awake- in the Khylsty way, naturally. He doubted it would come to that. Valeriya's thousand scars criss-crossing her back came from absolute devotion. The seed of pride certainly would not have her bend the knee to him.
Still, the thought was strangely interesting. He'd never accept her, of course. Purity had to be maintained. But it was curious.
More interesting, though, was how Valeriya would react to her decision. The corners of his lips quirked up in anticipation.
Just remembering screwed his anger to a level he did not imagine possible. He was a collapsing star, unfathomable mass falling in on itself, compressing smaller and smaller, denser and denser, gravitational forces and pressure beyond anything imagined...harder, harder, until it reached the final moment, as coldly pressed as was possible to be- absolute stillness.
A hair's breadth more and it would come. The violence in him, the rage, an exploding supernova of fiery fury to scour this entire building to the ground.
The war. Not the battle. The war. The whisper stopped him. Barely. Foolish impulse. Childish. But the emotion still raged inside him. He tried to seek the Chong Rann, sought its soothing depths. It took longer than normal.
The emotion dissipated into that other universe, releasing him from its grip, the red that filmed his eyes fading away, control and normalcy returning. He was surprised to see the other two- the quiet two- standing, hand in hand, as if to leave. He turned his icy gaze to them curiously. Gods? Or perhaps something else. Wolkin? Sentients? He squelched the angry thought of Aria that tried to surface.
The boy's answer was flippant enough. Oh yes. He truly thought himself above humanity. The woman, though....she was still delusional. Clearly. And not simply in her ridiculous beliefs. Obviously, she still needed religion to explain her power. She still thought she could use it for good. She wanted to atone. And she would try. He had no doubt. But the seed was already there.
And growing. A small smile that did not touch his eyes formed. "Strange. I do not seem to recall the United States having queens. Not even New Orleans. Where were you titled? By whom?"
Poor Valeriya didn't see it. She didn't know the demon the seed would form. Inwardly, he cringed as she took her hand, voice regal and sisterly at the same time. She would have to learn. Somehow. But it would not be today.
Though she did give him pause. Hidden in the depths of her flowery words was a thorn whose prick made him smile. A threat. Pity gave way to pride. She would learn. But she was Khylsty first. Idly, he wondered what he would do should Rowan attempt to atone and awake- in the Khylsty way, naturally. He doubted it would come to that. Valeriya's thousand scars criss-crossing her back came from absolute devotion. The seed of pride certainly would not have her bend the knee to him.
Still, the thought was strangely interesting. He'd never accept her, of course. Purity had to be maintained. But it was curious.
More interesting, though, was how Valeriya would react to her decision. The corners of his lips quirked up in anticipation.