a candle's fire

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — Her brows furrowed slightly when Phoebe spoke, mentioning powerful mages as the image painted in her mind. “Hmm.” She responded briefly, wondering if they could wield magic like she could now upon entering here – and what that might mean in comparison to the shift from there to here. But Phoebe continued to speak, mentioning that some of them had godlike power which intrigued her, too. She had lived in places where people considered themselves chosen by the gods – and more often than not, those were the most corrupt. But she mentioned Safrin next, and her head shifted toward her blond friend with interest. “I’ve never met Safrin, I’ve only ever met Frey.” She said quietly, contemplatively. “I have heard good things about her though, I wish to meet her and Ludo one day I think.” She pondered thoughtfully, thinking of the flowers growing in her garden that she had planted and chosen to give to them for their thanks and protection – specifically the ones for Frey to thank them for the gift they had given her. But then she had poised the question of a demigod from Frey, and her eyes shifted to the street as they walked and she listened. And when Phoebe had finished her thought, Rexanna became overcome by a series of giggles. “Imagine.” She paused, huffing in her laughter. “A rebellious child of Frey.” She began to finally catch her breath as she looked back to Phoebe. “What an interesting idea.” She smiled, widely, hoping perhaps her laughter might have infected Phoebe too. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.