WESSEX
Oh poor, brainwashed child. She’d predicted this, saw their divergent paths long ago. Amalia’s hatred now runs as deep as the cosmos are vast, and Wessex can see that she’s forever lost. Her vow to never kill the Chandrakant girl will remain in place, but all options of discourse are clearly closed. She sighs, her gaze falling in disappointment and then up to the mixed-animal face with some version of pity, taking the immature fire and rage as she’s always done.
Killing is where Amalia draws the line and killing is one of the few things Wessex is good at. How she minds now and didn’t five years ago will never be understood. There is irony, somewhere, in who the girl’s chosen as a partner and she’s curious to see if, years from now, when all is said and done, if the girl can still claim her moral high ground. If when face-to-face again in battle or across the wide, wide ravine, if she’ll still cling to her promise of life. If Wessex will fall into the category of living, or if she'll be shunted off to something other. It’s easy when the enemy is dehumanized by divine propaganda, when they’re painted as demons and murderers and all-consuming parasites. Defensive words fly to her lips, but she swallows them all with a level gaze.
Does she think this is okay? No. But there’s no point in defending herself.
Does she think she’s entitled? Yes and No. Entitled to a life as free as anyone else in Caido who wasn’t born in the Grounds, but not to a place of power - which is why she’s offering up a choice.
Does she think she’s selfish? No. Because there are others who want out. There always have been. Their people died continuously because they wanted out.
In the end, their values and priorities are just too different and she’s tired of the uphill battle with Amalia. She’s tired of being told she’s wrong and evil and an abomination. Those things take a toll on a person, even those with spines of steel and hardened hearts.
“As you wish,” Wessex says softly and turns to go. On her way to the door, she throws out, “My promise still stands. It always will. And I hope you won’t consider everyone who wants to leave the Hollowed Grounds selfish or entitled.” Maybe if she and her precious Guild had made portal information readily available, they would have gone through the Spire first, instead. But those are things they will never get to debate (or hurl blame on). Cold cordiality it is, from now on, then.
The Wraith slips out the door and shuts it behind her, leaning against the metal for a couple of minutes to sort herself out.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
