who we are and all that we're trying to be
Zuriel tossed her head, another small whinny extended, while her maw brushed against Eunike’s. Spoiled rotten, Zuriel often journeyed around when she felt like it, or when asked by Deimos because he or someone else was bound to get injured on another expedition; but their sojourns hadn’t exalted any other unicorns. Isla was the only other one the Sword was aware of until now – and he’d been saved by Remi’s companion down in caves, before strength and might had returned to him. “Is she capable of healing?” His nod was extended towards Eunike, the presses of gold and black.
More wood loaded into the wagon after several swings of his ax, felling pieces of lumber into two, pairs taken apart in the threshold of the compartment. Quiet once more, he listened to the denizen of Zariah – an inclination of his head, pondering how much to reveal of their underground rebellion, if it mattered. The truth was though, that there’d been no assault or siege, as he’d so longed for, no violent uprising, no vicious, unwinding coup after all of her monumental threats and manipulations. “There was no skirmish.” His sigh thereafter detailed the disappointment; he, along with so many others, would’ve relished and savored taking her apart, tossing her off a throne, leaving her mired, mauled, and desecrated. “One day there was a notice that Zariah had gone on a secret mission out of the Hollowed Grounds. Edrei took up her role.” While they’d been plotting and trying to circumvent outcomes, the Rapacious had been concocting who else would fill in the stead. “Then sovereignty was a mess.” A shrug through his shoulders, indicating nothing about the ridiculous stature and nature of thereafter, rampantly shifting and changing hands within days, sometimes hours.
The knowledge of Neron’s leadership might have said a lot about their loyalties to kingdoms; but Deimos knew his queen to a fault. Neorn was an Outlander just as much as the rest of them – likely not as known, and hopefully not as polarizing, as his cousin. He snorted at her insinuation of Zariah. “Sounds like she has not changed much.” From all the things he’d been told about her magical, combative training, she was still along the same lines: arrogant, overconfident, and overbearing.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
