Seren
Even though she might have been inclined towards keeping it quiet who the extra member of the party might be, Deimos' question erased that option. Seren was not in the habit of lying to her friends, especially not when it might cause trouble later on.
"Ru would," she sighed, "and perhaps you as well. But she's the only one with fire magic strong enough to be an option." Biting the inside of her cheek, Seren glanced at the Sword, considering. "I was thinking to ask the Fireheart." Aurelia, the new governess of Torchline. Unfortunately... it was a name and a face that came with a lot of difficulties. Scorched buildings, dead companions, attempted murder, lies and unjust interrogations lay like caltrops between two women, each at the head of their own region. It could spell disaster... but if they found a way to work together? How formidable of an alliance would it not be.
"Hotaru told me that she was capable of setting personal issues aside for the sake of politics. Was she telling the truth?" Concern pulled at her brows, and Seren loosed an arrow at a gourd when it was raised into the air. Imagined it quartered into pie, into pastry, into savory soup - flavored with a hunter's delight, rather than this bitter taste of politicking.
"Ru would," she sighed, "and perhaps you as well. But she's the only one with fire magic strong enough to be an option." Biting the inside of her cheek, Seren glanced at the Sword, considering. "I was thinking to ask the Fireheart." Aurelia, the new governess of Torchline. Unfortunately... it was a name and a face that came with a lot of difficulties. Scorched buildings, dead companions, attempted murder, lies and unjust interrogations lay like caltrops between two women, each at the head of their own region. It could spell disaster... but if they found a way to work together? How formidable of an alliance would it not be.
"Hotaru told me that she was capable of setting personal issues aside for the sake of politics. Was she telling the truth?" Concern pulled at her brows, and Seren loosed an arrow at a gourd when it was raised into the air. Imagined it quartered into pie, into pastry, into savory soup - flavored with a hunter's delight, rather than this bitter taste of politicking.
Battle born they send us
Covered in our noble blood
Covered in our noble blood
