04-17-2020, 01:14 AM
The shivering subsided. She wasn’t a weak woman of the Above, but she was grateful for the arms to help her climb from a possible watery grave. Soon, the water was pulled off her very skin and slicked from her hair into a big floating blob. The magic of Rasputin flowed through Rowan like majesty, and Valeriya’s resolution was reaffirmed. She grasped the hand of Armande on one side and the hand of Rowan on the other, and laid herself back on the ground, resting all four on her belly. The blue of the sky Above was endless. How many years she saw it from Below, yearned to taste the air on her tongue.
“I do not need the magic of healing, love.” She’d probably have to be bleeding out to take healing. Not because she abhorred the magical practices, but because she would never admit herself that weak. The heat of the previous anger dampened, but it was never directed at Rowan. A word curled nasty on her tongue, sour as a salt lick. Pope. She didn’t know what that was. Or who he was. She didn’t know what those spike things were either. They were jagged like teeth. It wasn’t something the Eye of the Khylsty would tolerate. Her hands squeezed tight upon those of her two mortal loves.
Soon, she regathered her discarded clothing. She did not like not understanding the things seen by the Eye.
“I do not need the magic of healing, love.” She’d probably have to be bleeding out to take healing. Not because she abhorred the magical practices, but because she would never admit herself that weak. The heat of the previous anger dampened, but it was never directed at Rowan. A word curled nasty on her tongue, sour as a salt lick. Pope. She didn’t know what that was. Or who he was. She didn’t know what those spike things were either. They were jagged like teeth. It wasn’t something the Eye of the Khylsty would tolerate. Her hands squeezed tight upon those of her two mortal loves.
Soon, she regathered her discarded clothing. She did not like not understanding the things seen by the Eye.
The Eye of the Khylsty