(SE) dying on promises

Wessex shakes her head, hearing his reassurance, but batting it immediately away. “You can’t. Not from the Fae and Safrin. Not when they work together.” And it’s true, isn’t it? That he won’t stop anything Safrin does. For Nate, maybe. But not for Wessex, and not for the other Ascended. This she knows - or perhaps truths become more clear in this unfiltered state. Her head shakes back and forth in a preoccupied manner, but she still follows Jata’s lead, down the wider path to - oh, somewhere, it doesn’t matter where. “I saw a waterfall,” she says with a bit of a disgusted hum. Water is still bad. “Big one. Surrounded by a lot of rock. And then the thing behind it.” Miming an arch, Wessex’s hands draw the shape, the little dips holes where things were supposed to go, and the platform itself. “It was cooooold.” And that was goooood. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm