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Evie
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They both know she’d sooner cut off her own hand than intentionally harm any of the people in Halo - or almost anyone - so she’s not at all offended by his suggestion. Evie is a healer. It was the first magic she ever had, the one she was born with. It shaped her as truly as an Attuned’s shift shapes their habits and personality. So instead she gives a rueful smile. “Oh I remember from when Loren made me Assistant to the Grand Healer. It’s one of the few things Halovians and Grounders have in common; wariness.” Winking, she huffs a laugh, because stubbornness and refusal to leave a proverbial wasteland probably makes it on that list too. “It would be nice to be nearby, but I wouldn’t want to mix my plants with the ones in here, or take up too much space. Much of what I grow can be dangerous if handled incorrectly.” Slowly looking around the greenhouse again she sighs morosely. “Which is a shame, I’d love to be in here daily. I wanted greenhouses in the Grounds for years.” A goal that never saw fruition. There is an ache of longing in her voice, drawing pained lines into her pretty face. It hadn’t happened because she hadn’t ordered it done during her brief reign. And now, with Ascended who had no need for food, there was little incentive to heal the barren land. It would happen by itself in time, but it would take many generations of life that Evie wouldn’t be around to see.
Distracting herself forcibly from those thoughts with another sharp bite of her apple, she lends her ear to Deimos’ opinion. “I don’t know him, but I trust your judgment. Personally I think it’s a good idea on the surface but…” her hand tightens around the apple until the flesh squeaks and gives slightly, her eyes distant and unseeing. “I remember the door. What it did. How easy it was for the Gods to lie by omission, and how the rest of us had to deal with the fallout.” Shaking her head slightly, crimson hair curtaining against her cheek in a trained movement that hides her face more, Evie sucks in a hard breath. “This compound may be built by a different herald, but who is to say the same thing won’t happen?” Or maybe that’s just the lingering guilt, too personal to let go of. Rexanna’s death had directly led to her own queenhood after all. “Anyway. Regardless of my own strength, I’m a healer. I won’t be hiding away when the war comes. It’s my job to mitigate the damage - I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” And there, finally, is that fire. Lost for a while in her grief, but incapable of being fully extinguished. It burns like white fire in the cool blue of her eyes, stronger than steel and contrasted against the softness of her smile as she turns it Deimos’ way. “And, well…that’s why I came back.” The real reason, which nobody had asked after and thus never learned. don't let one be you |
Table made by Sky!
