in tenebris est veritas.
His name did ring in the back of her mind like vigilance and dread, a word once spoken on bitter lips alongside the names of other distant, fickle beings. She had made it this far without meeting any of the entities that she had been cautioned against, and she counted herself lucky. But the predator lurking within his ease and grace was easy enough to intuit, she the presumptive prey that steps back as he steps forward.
A held breath is finally loosened toward the abated flames, her gaze finally turning away from him to witness them as he describes the little ritual. She had heard of just the same – it was why she sought this place out at all – but somehow she had not considered actually doing it. “That is not my power,” she explains, and it is true enough that the novice Abandoned can boast of no command of the elements. An amused grin takes shape in her voice as she adds, “Perhaps you are lying to me, that I might sacrifice myself to Death.”
Chaele might have kept her cool, might have gotten away with a pretense of hubris, if it were not for the illusory mischief that spikes in her nerves. Her head jerks toward the vision just as it disappears, born of heat and light and consumed just as blisteringly. Her eyes press shut to better ward off the disquiet that rises insidiously in her chest, and she can only hope in vain that the servant of Ludo does not notice or mind.
Her attention returns willfully to the flames, unable to meet his critical crystalline gaze. “Have you seen anyone do it?”
A held breath is finally loosened toward the abated flames, her gaze finally turning away from him to witness them as he describes the little ritual. She had heard of just the same – it was why she sought this place out at all – but somehow she had not considered actually doing it. “That is not my power,” she explains, and it is true enough that the novice Abandoned can boast of no command of the elements. An amused grin takes shape in her voice as she adds, “Perhaps you are lying to me, that I might sacrifice myself to Death.”
Chaele might have kept her cool, might have gotten away with a pretense of hubris, if it were not for the illusory mischief that spikes in her nerves. Her head jerks toward the vision just as it disappears, born of heat and light and consumed just as blisteringly. Her eyes press shut to better ward off the disquiet that rises insidiously in her chest, and she can only hope in vain that the servant of Ludo does not notice or mind.
Her attention returns willfully to the flames, unable to meet his critical crystalline gaze. “Have you seen anyone do it?”
