[AW] almost forgotten

[Jahin]

Long may he reign… So much for an ice-breaker. The wolfish grin, the glitter of her teeth in the Solterra sun….as ominous as any prophecy. She lives for this. For life and death. She is extreme in everything she feels. Most Davke are this way. Jahin himself feels deeply, extremely—but he doesn’t think there can possibly be anyone more driven, more intense than Avdotya. Has he ever seen her, dare he say, happy? No….how can someone so hardcore find something as simple as happiness? “Indeed. A fine housewarming gift, then.” Despite being in the middle of the desert with no discernible path in sight, he knows he has arrived at a crossroads. Avdotya is interrogating him innocently enough, politely enough, but the intensity of her gaze is crucifying. Make no mistake, she is testing him and Jahin’s answer will define his future.  I think we both know what you are really asking, he thinks. Whose side am I on? “I think one of the greatest warriors of our time has fallen,” he says simply, honestly, meeting her gaze evenly. Jahin has never been one to lie or to speak half-truths. She may be displeased by this answer, but he has given her his truth, and in a world where lies run rampant, that is sacred. Jahin doesn’t know much about kings or queens. He doesn’t claim to know the intricacies of Seraphina’s reign, the good or evil she may have carried out in the eyes of others. He is not a very complicated creature; he only knows what he knows and what he knows is the path and way of a warrior best. A warrior who protects their people at any cost to their own personal well-being.  A warrior that gives the gift of mercy to the weak.  While weakness is not something generally tolerated by Jahin (or the Davke), the dank prison lies heavily in his mind…a fog of sorts. He remembers wondering if he would ever see the Solterra sun again. Seraphina had saved him from a fate worse than a coward's death… The crown is not what he sees when he thinks of Seraphina; he thinks of a glittering silver sword of justice and the spirit of a Davke warrior. “I think Solterra mourns,” he says, then pauses and frowns slightly. “And the capitol is vulnerable in the transition of power.” Vulnerable to whose advantage, though? He glances at the dripping severed head and then to Avdotya’s hungry, predatory eyes. Those eyes are a blazing inferno. Who will she see burn this time? She is on the warpath again. He recalls the capitol burning, the screams of those he had come to know in his time at court and the revelation that had rocked his world--his kin lived.  Revenge is what Avdotya does best (along with her noteworthy skill of severing the heads of idle, indulgent nobles), so what does she seek with this Ruam, what’s her agenda? Surely not just to offer a house-warming gift…  Is this what she has been waiting for? There has been no whisper of the kahn since the attack on the capitol…as if she and what was left of their people was swept up by the wind and swallowed whole by the insatiable desert. “And what say you, Avdotya kahn?” It is only fair that he, too, gets to ask this question. If he is to join her and her crusade (whatever that may be) he wants to know her ambitions, her motives, her darkest desires. these scars long have yearned for your tender caress to bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own ---

@Avdotya i'm sorry i don't really know what this is