cigarettes, the taste of whiskey on your lips
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?
"The gods wish for you to be modest, because they fear another Voice challenging them." she said. With a wave of her hand the flames coiled between them, taking shapes before the girl. The figures of Rae, Vi, Mort, Frey, Safrin, and Ludo standing opposite of the small figure of the Voice. "She was a magic user who rose to great power, and they failed to stop her while they could." she said, almost boredly. The figure of the Voice in the flames grew to stand at equal stature of the six others, challenging and imposing.
The flames suddenly shifted again, and standing before Maea was herself, sculpted in the fire the Archmage controlled. "To be modest is to be controllable. It is to be weak and useless." As she spoke, flame-Maea withered, the glow of the flame beginning to ebb away as she all but vanished. "Would you fade away to nothing in your modesty? Or would you fan the flame of the power you could have, to claim all you've ever wished to have? Will you let your destiny be decided by the failures of those who came before you, or will you claim it for your own?"
The flames suddenly shifted again, and standing before Maea was herself, sculpted in the fire the Archmage controlled. "To be modest is to be controllable. It is to be weak and useless." As she spoke, flame-Maea withered, the glow of the flame beginning to ebb away as she all but vanished. "Would you fade away to nothing in your modesty? Or would you fan the flame of the power you could have, to claim all you've ever wished to have? Will you let your destiny be decided by the failures of those who came before you, or will you claim it for your own?"
