[SWP] ACT IV: god whispers on the wind

[Isra]

Isra and iron wake
“I must down to the seas again,”

No

, is the first thing she thinks when the ivy dies and the island starts to whisper around her like a ghost. She can feel it in her blood, the weight of it, the promise of tooth and claw and more tricks. But her magic can feel it too, it can feel the way the trees do not feel like normal palm and pine should. It can feel the way the sand shifts and trembles as if it remembers too well how to be rock, and magma, and the core of the earth.

Her magic smiles in her bones and in her blood. It smiles and it's a toothy grin, a spectral lion of rage and hate and memory. Everything in Isra cries out to the island. All the soft parts of her beg the gods to stop, to give them no more tests thick with the lie of power. Her heart is sobbing beneath the war-drum beat of it, and beneath that her steps are moving over the shore like shovels through piles of dirt and bone.

But all the hard parts of her, the parts forged into blades are screaming a challenge. Isra is promising, with every step, every catch of sunlight on the crown of scars around her dark throat, that she has forgotten how to be anything but rage. The way her horn flashes and sighs in the wind like a sword promise, I will end you if you bring us disaster again. She thinks of Seraphina, laying bloody and almost-dead but still full of hope for the salvation of gods. Part of her wonders if that god is here, with his father. She wonders if she can turn his blood to gold if she were to cut a map of warning across his skin.

So when she walks deeper into the forest, with her dragon laying trees low beside her, it's with fury in her heart and a warning flashing teeth and claw to the magic she knows is out their searching, and hunting.

Because Isra and Fable are hunting too and she knows they will not fail.

@| "speaks" | notes: <3

rallidae