“I do not care what comes after; I have seen the dragons on the wind of morning.”
Each step Raum takes brings a dragon of fury rising up inside her bones. It's sea of hate that courses through her like a tsunami. It wipes clean every inch of innocence left in her. Gone are the tender shards of hope and empathy running like pollen and barbs though her.
All she feels is anger when he touches her. And the anger, hotter than the sun, awakens a little bit of dead magic in her blood. The poison in her veins turns to salt water and blood, running through her veins like winter. It's enough to chase back some of the dimness from her gaze.
When he calls her queen she wants to turn every inch of his skin into glass. She wants to shatter him to dust with one strike of her horn. She wants to let Fable drag him down to the bottom of the sea until he is more salt than flesh.
Isra wants death.
Raum's death is fire on her tongue.
She can taste it in the grass creeping between her lips. She can feel it in the moonlight hanging silver and cold around them. Everything around her feels like a graveyard and she cannot stop the thought that her bones might be gravestones from making her shiver.
Acton at first is nothing more than a shift of golden in the moonlight, bright enough to make her think of sunlight. She cries in her head for Eik, and behind her clenched teeth she can taste clover. But when Acton comes closer her hope is dashed.
She remembers how he came to her, and how he knew that the ghost wasn't done with her yet. She remembers how they talked of death. Isra remembers how he didn't fight to stay. That's the last betrayal she thinks of when she watches, helpless as a seal on the beach, as they lift the knife over her.
Isra wonders if she will become an altar or a sacrifice.
Fable. The cry runs through her bones like a current in that sea of hate. It feels like ice and snow and stardust. It doesn't feel like ink at all. There is no story here, only tragedy. Her dragon, her friend, her bonded is the last name she thinks of as she watches the blade of the ghost eclipse the moon in her gaze.
Somewhere in the city a dragon is ripped from his dreams, coldly and cruelly. And when he takes to the sky he roars, and roars, and roars.
@Raum @Acton
