you wouldn't even recognize me anymore
not that you knew me back then
Who, indeed?
Running through a mental checklist of their kin, Wessex lights on a couple of names, all faint possibilities in her mind, but none that scream out to her (though perhaps they should). “Nate or Isla?” Counting their names on her pinky and ring finger, she glances up at the ceiling, weighing the options. “Nate’s a demigod now, he’ll be getting stronger soon. Though I worry about his ability to keep secrets from Sunjata if necessary. Isla seems very competent, but I know little of her and - well, who’s to say either of them would want it. I could stay on, I suppose, forego the other stuff…”
Turning her gaze back to her hands, she worries them together, fixating on the length of her index finger and listening to Bastien talk about the war. He doesn’t seem to get it yet.
“A war is coming,” she says quietly. “Stupid or barbaric though it may be, and I agree, calling it that won’t stop it. The Order wants us dead. The Heralds and the Old Gods want the Voice gone, and the Voice is… too ambitious to step down. And terribly smart and clever. Clever enough to win? Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not privy to that. But I do know that demigods are moving, lines are being drawn and it’s too dangerous to keep saying if and might.”
Running through a mental checklist of their kin, Wessex lights on a couple of names, all faint possibilities in her mind, but none that scream out to her (though perhaps they should). “Nate or Isla?” Counting their names on her pinky and ring finger, she glances up at the ceiling, weighing the options. “Nate’s a demigod now, he’ll be getting stronger soon. Though I worry about his ability to keep secrets from Sunjata if necessary. Isla seems very competent, but I know little of her and - well, who’s to say either of them would want it. I could stay on, I suppose, forego the other stuff…”
Turning her gaze back to her hands, she worries them together, fixating on the length of her index finger and listening to Bastien talk about the war. He doesn’t seem to get it yet.
“A war is coming,” she says quietly. “Stupid or barbaric though it may be, and I agree, calling it that won’t stop it. The Order wants us dead. The Heralds and the Old Gods want the Voice gone, and the Voice is… too ambitious to step down. And terribly smart and clever. Clever enough to win? Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not privy to that. But I do know that demigods are moving, lines are being drawn and it’s too dangerous to keep saying if and might.”
but it all comes back to me in the end
WESSEX
