She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.
She lets Loren heal her, making her way back into the heart of the Citadel to try and find Korbin, to make he was okay. She can’t quite think about what just happened, about how easily she watched so many people burn beneath her own magic. She should feel something like remorse, and yet she doesn’t. They needed to die, and so she’d done it.
Yet the sound of Zariah screaming, the sight of Neron and Loren draws her. Fuck. Just fuck. Fury rages in her veins at the sight of them squabbling. Fury at the sight of Neron because this is his fault. Her people were dead because of his choices. Because of his family.
”Three Launceleyn’s walk into a town,” she says as she approaches, like it’s a joke, though there is no trace of humor in her voice. ”And destroy it. I admit, I am very sick of other people coming in and destroying my home. Of ruling my home.” Neron is responsible, the Academy still stands (no matter how hard Zariah fought, Weaver has not forgotten). The only one she trusts in this group is Loren. If Zariah thinks anyone in Halo will accept her in Neron’s place, she has another thing coming.
”Send them to the Kraai. We will take care of them, find them roofs and warmth. We have no reason to trust you have our best interests at heart.” The faces of the dead and the injured were faces she’d known all her life. Friends, fellow hunters, people who had cared for her when she’d lost all but Korbin. They were her people, and she could no longer stand by and watch Outlanders pretend to care.
Yet the sound of Zariah screaming, the sight of Neron and Loren draws her. Fuck. Just fuck. Fury rages in her veins at the sight of them squabbling. Fury at the sight of Neron because this is his fault. Her people were dead because of his choices. Because of his family.
”Three Launceleyn’s walk into a town,” she says as she approaches, like it’s a joke, though there is no trace of humor in her voice. ”And destroy it. I admit, I am very sick of other people coming in and destroying my home. Of ruling my home.” Neron is responsible, the Academy still stands (no matter how hard Zariah fought, Weaver has not forgotten). The only one she trusts in this group is Loren. If Zariah thinks anyone in Halo will accept her in Neron’s place, she has another thing coming.
”Send them to the Kraai. We will take care of them, find them roofs and warmth. We have no reason to trust you have our best interests at heart.” The faces of the dead and the injured were faces she’d known all her life. Friends, fellow hunters, people who had cared for her when she’d lost all but Korbin. They were her people, and she could no longer stand by and watch Outlanders pretend to care.
Weaver
