Iron fills the air, a scent Dalmatia once thought of herself in her first days here; those were the days when the ex-Vicarioius came in dripping in blood and rage, dripping in wounds both her own and from others, dripping in the disappointment and sorrow of losing something so precious and so horrid all at once. Iron had filled this cell so long ago, but it has been years yet since she smelled it as she does again now, holly eyes falling down to the bitten lip, to her once-young charge's bleeding lip. The woman sneers.
There is no arrogance or pride, simply a twitching of her lips, a small toughen up seeming to pass through her eyes even as her chin raises incrementally. If ghosts made Marisol bleed, then she can only imagine what the living can do. It almost disappoints her, almost makes the magpie-girl wonder if she'd really taught her so wrong.
But she knows better than that. Any weakness Marisol possesses is her own. Developed through her own lifetime and during the time when Dalmatia "disappeared" in the above world. It is disgusting and something that Dalmatia will not lay claim to. All of these thoughts circle and circle and circle, like the cool airs rising on a warm front, like water turning to sleeting sheets of ice. Then, it, too, freezes as three words are birthed. "Prudence is back." Marisol quakes as she says it, her teeth nearly chattering together, the stench of fear even more poignant than the iron.
Somewhere, Dalmatia hears screaming. Somewhere, Dalmatia hears a body fall. Somewhere, Dalmatia sees pools of blood and pain all blurring into the same red dream that plagues her over and over.
Holly eyes harden just as the line of her mouth does. Memories are pushed down. Bile is pushed down. Betrayal is pushed down. All that is left is this now: two slits upon her face to glare at the world, a squaring of already tight shoulders, and a growl like a rapid dog: "What the hell took you so long then?" It is a bark, hoarse from disuse, but still full of iron and expectations that she held for every cadet when she helped to train them.
Expectations that still fall heavy upon the Queen now when the once-light of Terrastella looks to her again. Dalmatia is a comet, and what a long shadow she casts when she steps forward. "What will you do now, then?"
Beware: I am fearless, and therefore, powerful.
@
