dont know where the lights are taking us
but something in the night is dangerous
but something in the night is dangerous
The cold, hard truth of the matter is that no matter what Samuel does, he can’t bring Clem or Rexanna back. He cannot undo the destruction he’s wrought, much like she cannot undo the Mathair portal. Only time will heal those wounds, provide a distraction to the Fae, perhaps - a bigger enemy for them to focus on than the Ascended.
This was what her goal had been, of course, before she lost control, to get Sam to be useful again. The Voice might have been forgiving, but the Wraith also knows she would have been disappointed and for now, they are too few to waste a life - even one such as his. Wessex closes her eyes for a moment, staying the blade in her hand until she can wrestle her emotions back into their box. When she feels like she can look at the man without wanting to cut something off his face, she tosses the knife to one side, out of both of their immediate reaches. “Fine.” Pushing herself up, the warrior removes her arm from his chest, but remains straddling him.
“You’re going to swear to never give a physical part of you to anyone who isn’t Ascended. You’re going to keep this encounter between you and me. And you’re going to find out what they did with that door - if it’s been destroyed, and if not, where they’re keeping it. It can’t be allowed to exist.” Wessex, for one, had wanted to burn the door down post LongNight, but she’d arrived to late - it had already been taken down, taken somewhere, or perhaps they’d done the right thing and burned it themselves. An improbable, but possible turn of events. And yet some other part of her knows, that deep down, a weapon has been made that will not be easily unmade. And it may yet doom more of her family.
“Do you understand? Ascended first. If you even think for a moment that whomever you’re dealing with can use something against us, you stop.”
This was what her goal had been, of course, before she lost control, to get Sam to be useful again. The Voice might have been forgiving, but the Wraith also knows she would have been disappointed and for now, they are too few to waste a life - even one such as his. Wessex closes her eyes for a moment, staying the blade in her hand until she can wrestle her emotions back into their box. When she feels like she can look at the man without wanting to cut something off his face, she tosses the knife to one side, out of both of their immediate reaches. “Fine.” Pushing herself up, the warrior removes her arm from his chest, but remains straddling him.
“You’re going to swear to never give a physical part of you to anyone who isn’t Ascended. You’re going to keep this encounter between you and me. And you’re going to find out what they did with that door - if it’s been destroyed, and if not, where they’re keeping it. It can’t be allowed to exist.” Wessex, for one, had wanted to burn the door down post LongNight, but she’d arrived to late - it had already been taken down, taken somewhere, or perhaps they’d done the right thing and burned it themselves. An improbable, but possible turn of events. And yet some other part of her knows, that deep down, a weapon has been made that will not be easily unmade. And it may yet doom more of her family.
“Do you understand? Ascended first. If you even think for a moment that whomever you’re dealing with can use something against us, you stop.”
