06-21-2019, 01:28 AM
A look passed Armande’s face before he took Vale into his arms. Rowan looked to her Sister’s face, quizzically.
Ah. Of course, Rowan thought to herself as she noticed the one-sided tears. Were she not so sure of their bond, Rowan would have assumed it was sympathetic magic… of a sort.
Armande released her and turned his smile on Rowan. He looked at ease. It was strange. This man normally projected an air of authority and ruthlessness, but it all seemed to melt away after he felt Vale’s touch. There was love between them. Real love. Not just the apparent physical attraction. He was not a bad looking man, but Rowan couldn’t help but to wonder if he was the type that liked getting- rough- when he took a lady to the sheets.
It was a long moment before the man spoke again, this time in answer to Rowan’s own musings. Armande did hold prejudice against Channelers and Witches, not without reason of course. But what was this of a changeling? Surely… He could not honestly believe that touching the magic swaped out one’s soul for that of a Fae… Right?
Rowan had opened her mouth to correct his statement but thought the better of it. She didn’t really understand any of this much better than he had; and her own notions were very clearly colored by her own spiritual beliefs and upbringing. Let the man believe what he wanted, so long as he didn’t try to kill her because of it. Rowan was not eager to return to the Burning Times- not that she had lived it.
Death at the hands of Armande was still a very real possibility. She had seen it right before the initiation into this cult. It was a sure thing if she did not go through with the rites. There was no guarantee it still wasn’t a possibility, she was just certain that it was not imminent any longer. At least now she could keep an eye on him, now she had time to plan for the worst. Rowan had no desire to kill again, especially not the man her sworn sister was so dearly devoted to; but if it came down to him or her… Well, the answer to that was easy. She was no martyr.
“He’s not wrong, Sister,” Rowan said with a sigh, “Even I am susceptible to corruption… A long time ago- it seems as if it were a lifetime- I killed with this force. I killed a lot. I didn’t mean to.”
The car crash replayed vividly in her mind’s eye. Blood and glass everywhere. Screams and smoke. Blackness.
“Once, I had a man of my own… And I was swollen to bursting with his- our- child. We were in a horrible accident. I don’t remember much, but I was out for a few days. Eventually I came to in a hospital and he was dead… As was our child. They had to pull her out of me.”
Rowan hadn’t even been able to see the child. They had already carted her off to the funeral home. Daddy’s doing, but how were they to know that Rowan would have woken so soon? Not even a picture of the little dumpling.
“I was so overcome with the grief of love departed that I lost control.”
A scream that pierced the veil, pulling the souls up from the living around her. Bodies dropping at once all throughout the hospital. A gas leak, the authorities had said.
“It was never in my intentions to… But… It can happen. I don’t agree with these Atharim that I’ve heard so much about, not by any means. I do think that these gifts are just that. Gifts. We can help uplift humanity with them, but there's so much we don’t know yet. It’s like fire. Sure, it has the aptitude to destroy, but it also can help advance us in ways we have yet to dream about. I think that we just have to learn more about it, develop safe ways to apply our gifts, and above all be careful… We are like babes.”
Rowan suddenly shook all over. Briefly, but noticeably.
Aiden was suddenly in her head. She saw him sitting in the back of a limo, holding on to a tall, lithe man; young looking with dark features. Cooper was there too, behind the wheel, and just in the distance, Rowan saw the tiny little shack that lead down to the compound they were currently in.
The vision was gone. Rowan’s mouth hung open, she looked to Armande agape, yet not looking at him.
“Aiden…” she murmured to herself.
Of course.
Now he would come looking for her.
Great.
Just fucking great.
Ah. Of course, Rowan thought to herself as she noticed the one-sided tears. Were she not so sure of their bond, Rowan would have assumed it was sympathetic magic… of a sort.
Armande released her and turned his smile on Rowan. He looked at ease. It was strange. This man normally projected an air of authority and ruthlessness, but it all seemed to melt away after he felt Vale’s touch. There was love between them. Real love. Not just the apparent physical attraction. He was not a bad looking man, but Rowan couldn’t help but to wonder if he was the type that liked getting- rough- when he took a lady to the sheets.
It was a long moment before the man spoke again, this time in answer to Rowan’s own musings. Armande did hold prejudice against Channelers and Witches, not without reason of course. But what was this of a changeling? Surely… He could not honestly believe that touching the magic swaped out one’s soul for that of a Fae… Right?
Rowan had opened her mouth to correct his statement but thought the better of it. She didn’t really understand any of this much better than he had; and her own notions were very clearly colored by her own spiritual beliefs and upbringing. Let the man believe what he wanted, so long as he didn’t try to kill her because of it. Rowan was not eager to return to the Burning Times- not that she had lived it.
Death at the hands of Armande was still a very real possibility. She had seen it right before the initiation into this cult. It was a sure thing if she did not go through with the rites. There was no guarantee it still wasn’t a possibility, she was just certain that it was not imminent any longer. At least now she could keep an eye on him, now she had time to plan for the worst. Rowan had no desire to kill again, especially not the man her sworn sister was so dearly devoted to; but if it came down to him or her… Well, the answer to that was easy. She was no martyr.
“He’s not wrong, Sister,” Rowan said with a sigh, “Even I am susceptible to corruption… A long time ago- it seems as if it were a lifetime- I killed with this force. I killed a lot. I didn’t mean to.”
The car crash replayed vividly in her mind’s eye. Blood and glass everywhere. Screams and smoke. Blackness.
“Once, I had a man of my own… And I was swollen to bursting with his- our- child. We were in a horrible accident. I don’t remember much, but I was out for a few days. Eventually I came to in a hospital and he was dead… As was our child. They had to pull her out of me.”
Rowan hadn’t even been able to see the child. They had already carted her off to the funeral home. Daddy’s doing, but how were they to know that Rowan would have woken so soon? Not even a picture of the little dumpling.
“I was so overcome with the grief of love departed that I lost control.”
A scream that pierced the veil, pulling the souls up from the living around her. Bodies dropping at once all throughout the hospital. A gas leak, the authorities had said.
“It was never in my intentions to… But… It can happen. I don’t agree with these Atharim that I’ve heard so much about, not by any means. I do think that these gifts are just that. Gifts. We can help uplift humanity with them, but there's so much we don’t know yet. It’s like fire. Sure, it has the aptitude to destroy, but it also can help advance us in ways we have yet to dream about. I think that we just have to learn more about it, develop safe ways to apply our gifts, and above all be careful… We are like babes.”
Rowan suddenly shook all over. Briefly, but noticeably.
Aiden was suddenly in her head. She saw him sitting in the back of a limo, holding on to a tall, lithe man; young looking with dark features. Cooper was there too, behind the wheel, and just in the distance, Rowan saw the tiny little shack that lead down to the compound they were currently in.
The vision was gone. Rowan’s mouth hung open, she looked to Armande agape, yet not looking at him.
“Aiden…” she murmured to herself.
Of course.
Now he would come looking for her.
Great.
Just fucking great.