Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
In the heat of brazen, emboldened moments, her eyes went briefly to Aurelia, checking in, ensuring everything was okay.
Otherwise, she was a molten press of infernal resolution, with no other thoughts or hindrances in sight. Nothing to hold her back – flames and fury, a stoked fire without inhibition. It didn’t matter that these were people. That they were doing this for some reason.
She saw monsters. She saw vengeance. She saw opportunity to permit every god damned frustration of the past few seasons to be waged in an unholy viciousness and vehemence, to regard the world in the absolute ferocity lingering underneath. In them, she could see Sunjata, dicking around and not caring about anyone else but his own stupid fucking self. In them, she could see failure after failure, out there on the high seas. In them, she could see the house burning. The mob forming. Worlds colliding and apart and crashing all around the ashes.
Good. They could be destroyed too.
Her second arrow flew – and with it, came the piercing shriek of the man closest to her, as it hit and punctured his leg. Straight through, with the elemental brimstone, forgoing her ice so that she could feed the flames.
A smirk stuck to her features, and there was no howl, no bellow, immersed from her chest. Only the wicked sense of satisfaction as he fell, languishing in pain, rolling around in the shallow waters.
Two to go.
Otherwise, she was a molten press of infernal resolution, with no other thoughts or hindrances in sight. Nothing to hold her back – flames and fury, a stoked fire without inhibition. It didn’t matter that these were people. That they were doing this for some reason.
She saw monsters. She saw vengeance. She saw opportunity to permit every god damned frustration of the past few seasons to be waged in an unholy viciousness and vehemence, to regard the world in the absolute ferocity lingering underneath. In them, she could see Sunjata, dicking around and not caring about anyone else but his own stupid fucking self. In them, she could see failure after failure, out there on the high seas. In them, she could see the house burning. The mob forming. Worlds colliding and apart and crashing all around the ashes.
Good. They could be destroyed too.
Her second arrow flew – and with it, came the piercing shriek of the man closest to her, as it hit and punctured his leg. Straight through, with the elemental brimstone, forgoing her ice so that she could feed the flames.
A smirk stuck to her features, and there was no howl, no bellow, immersed from her chest. Only the wicked sense of satisfaction as he fell, languishing in pain, rolling around in the shallow waters.
Two to go.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
