MELITA
She was strong.The notion had been easy to forget, when the world devoured and ate away at one’s soul, when disease spread and hands trembled and friends were suddenly adversaries, enemies; a contorted conclusion of anomalies and apologies. Before the blight, she’d been an incandescent fire, eager and ready to take on the earth, the moon, the sun, the sky, and the heavens, with enough brandished inferno to keep everyone and everything alight. Now, it was a distant ember, striving to coax itself back into kindled, stoked spirits.
This helped.
Melita didn’t smirk as the man’s eyes widened at her assault, even as he took it in stride, relishing the alteration, the surprise in his gaze - yes, I could take you down an essence in her entity, a savoring, scintillating motion to sink her teeth into – pushing more and more upon the blockade.
He stepped back then, which she couldn’t really blame him. But she persisted, she pursued, a predator on the hunt now, intending to sizzle and immerse herself back into the fight. He slashed at her chest, attempting to push her away, and she glided off to the side, earning a small smack on her shoulder for a slower pace, a rebuttal, a notion for her to try another tactic. Had he wanted advice too? She wasn’t entirely certain. From this angle though, she switched hands, intending to whip the staff, speed, speed, speed, swift and uncanny in her motions, smaller than him, dipping low, arm stretching and extending upward, aiming for his ribs.
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
