got shaky hands and a naive heart
That it isn't real hasn't permeated through to the Alchemist's mind yet. Or at least, if it has, he hasn't understood the ramifications. All he knows is that he stands on a knife's edge of potential, a kinetic starburst waiting to be moulded, and it could mean the death of him and everything he holds dear. The darkness is calling, in the voice of his mother, in the voice of Isla, in the voice of Aoife.
..in the voice of Ronin?
The world is suddenly sharp and abrasive, sandpaper on polish marble that finally lets reality take hold. "Ronin?" The Alchemist whispers, confused and disoriented. The huntsman's arms are around him, and rather than the acrid scent of burned hair, he smells the warmth of his husband and the salty-sea scent of the shell upon which they ride.
"Is..." Swallowing, the Alchemist hazards a glance around. Mountains comprised of clouds and woodsmoke spike from the ground as a thousand stars wave like grains of wheat. "...has one of us died?"
..in the voice of Ronin?
The world is suddenly sharp and abrasive, sandpaper on polish marble that finally lets reality take hold. "Ronin?" The Alchemist whispers, confused and disoriented. The huntsman's arms are around him, and rather than the acrid scent of burned hair, he smells the warmth of his husband and the salty-sea scent of the shell upon which they ride.
"Is..." Swallowing, the Alchemist hazards a glance around. Mountains comprised of clouds and woodsmoke spike from the ground as a thousand stars wave like grains of wheat. "...has one of us died?"
The lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
