in tenebris est veritas.
Chaele is tossing the stone again when they see the vision, and not for the first time. Still it startles them, the strident sound of a fist on glass so quick it seems more like a memory, and their fist closes too soon. The falling azurite bounces off of their knuckle and knee, wists silently through the air for its short drop from that low-tide cliff, then splashes inelegantly into the briny water. Chaele leans forward to watch its descent helplessly, then curses under their breath as it is irrevocably lost.
That was certainly bad luck, if such a thing exists.
“You are not superstitious at all?” They lean back, speaking through a sigh as they try to forget the idle disappointment. “I was a Torcher too, a lifetime ago. We always had little rituals to keep the underworld out. Spirits and racketeers alike. In hindsight I suppose it never worked.”
That was certainly bad luck, if such a thing exists.
“You are not superstitious at all?” They lean back, speaking through a sigh as they try to forget the idle disappointment. “I was a Torcher too, a lifetime ago. We always had little rituals to keep the underworld out. Spirits and racketeers alike. In hindsight I suppose it never worked.”
