Iskra
This world is a wasteland, nothing can grow
Iskra sighs deeply, utterly beleaguered in Sah's vice-like grip. It's a blessing the Wild Thunder is a considerate sort—another man might’ve made him an offering to Mort by now. He pinches his eyes shut, legs stumbling as his energy wanes, swaying in the wake of his spent fury. Every explanation he had, Sah dashed it. He doesn’t know Sah well, but the man sounds truthful. Now that Iskra has the mind to hear it, some of what he says holds convincing logic. An unfortunate mistake, then? Easy to claim, when Mel’s only alive thanks to others. A reminder, cruel and clear, that her life could slip through his fingers again just as easily.
He sucks in a shaky breath. His hands are slack now as he makes one last, half-hearted attempt to pull away. "ALRIGHT!" he yells, because he cannot do anything less, but it lacks his prior rancor. "I RELENT." He supposes he owes Sah an apology, but he finds it hard to pronounce the words on his tongue. Part of him is still holding onto the fact that Sah killed Melita. So, he opts for something less direct, but no less telling of why Iskra appears to be a madman. "SHE MATTERS A LOT TO ME," he shouts, and though the curse keeps it loud, the words still carry something raw—a plea carved out of a deeper fear. "I CAN'T LOSE HER."
Then, partly because Ludo demands it, and partly because the fear won’t let go of him—the fear of losing her, of not being enough to stop it next time—Iskra reaches for the only thing he can do. He’s not strong enough to save her, but maybe he can suffer like she did, maybe that'd mean something, to him at least. Penance, for all the ways he's failed her. "I WANNA KNOW WHAT SHE FELT." A beat, to consider the insanity. "ZAP ME, SAH."
He sucks in a shaky breath. His hands are slack now as he makes one last, half-hearted attempt to pull away. "ALRIGHT!" he yells, because he cannot do anything less, but it lacks his prior rancor. "I RELENT." He supposes he owes Sah an apology, but he finds it hard to pronounce the words on his tongue. Part of him is still holding onto the fact that Sah killed Melita. So, he opts for something less direct, but no less telling of why Iskra appears to be a madman. "SHE MATTERS A LOT TO ME," he shouts, and though the curse keeps it loud, the words still carry something raw—a plea carved out of a deeper fear. "I CAN'T LOSE HER."
Then, partly because Ludo demands it, and partly because the fear won’t let go of him—the fear of losing her, of not being enough to stop it next time—Iskra reaches for the only thing he can do. He’s not strong enough to save her, but maybe he can suffer like she did, maybe that'd mean something, to him at least. Penance, for all the ways he's failed her. "I WANNA KNOW WHAT SHE FELT." A beat, to consider the insanity. "ZAP ME, SAH."
I used to have strength, but I ran out of hope
