[P] jaws of the viper

[Raum]

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

 

It is first dawn, the idle rising of a sun lazy and full. The sky it bathes, red, red, red and from the window Raum watches that sun’s blood seep across the sky.
 
It would not be long until light, golden and hazy would shatter the blood and send it fleeing like fleas. Then would set another day of relentless sun. Raum’s lips tip with displeasure.
 
He turns and oh how the weathered walls begin to rattle. Stone upon stone groans and Legion stirs at its call. His sharp beak parts, black, serpentine tongue tasting the air. A silent cry passes his lips, he does not roar, he does not cry a furious caw – not yet, not yet. Raum studies the beast that listens and does not blanch when Legion turns his head to gaze at his master. The monster waits, his culling gaze hidden behind the wrapping of a blue silk scarf. Yet he looks toward Raum as if he could see him, as if he fantasizes of the Crow’s silver skin growing firm and cold and rough with stone.
 
Raum turns his back upon the beast, a command, “Come,” is all he gives. He hears the clack of talons, the rustle of feathers and the clacking of tooth and beak and knows the basilisk follows (with hatred in its heart and hunger in its eyes).
 
The doors of the keep open for him and there is Avdotya. The sight of her reminds him of a night of gales and electric storms. It reminds him of skin soaked and metallic, of a realisation that they might not be quite so dissimilar. His black eyes trail over each part of her, over the straight reach of her spear - full of sharp promise, the parted maw and sharp teeth of her lionskin - desperate to devour, and the fetid stench of the head she hangs, strapped to her shoulder. Idly he wonders if they might be the only two in Novus sprawling lands who were so closely acquainted with death and its grotesque finality.
 
The warrior girl throws down the head that sprays maggots and decaying tissue across the step. In silence Raum surveys it where it lies, his gaze no longer blue but silver – the light of the moon distant and aloof. “Tell me why I should care about the head you have brought me, Avdotya.”
 
Thick lashes lift as that cool gaze, devoid of his thoughts, his judgment, his reasoning, ascends and settles upon the Davke girl. He was glad Avdotya was here, there was much he had to discuss with her.
 
A cloud of brick dust descends thick and putrid and Raum watches it descend upon them. His gaze, as it lowers, resettles upon Avdotya. “And do stop rattling the walls of the keep, they could not withstand the force of you once before, and I am sure they will not again.”

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@Avdotya