Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
And the unicorn evils run them through;
There are monsters in the woods.
Each monster is looking at Andras with his teeth bared and his arcs rising from his skin like electric mist. They are looking at him like wolves look at lambs, and doe, and rodents who look at the sky in wonder forgetting that the curl of their throat is so bare and beautiful as they do. And they step closer, the monsters, dragging their noses along the shadows pooling just outside his warm blood and his humming violence.
Yes, turns to now, now, now.
His magic is bright, and hungry, and Thana thinks it will taste sweet down in the bottom of her belly. Her hunger grows terrific and mighty.
She steps closer, inhaling the acrid smoke of her singing hair and flesh as the lighting cracks over her flesh. Muscles quiver at the sting and beg to freeze, but she does not stop pressing closer and closer. In the pain, and the acid, and the smoke rising from her own skin, Thana comes alive. Like a star imploding into the black cosmos she comes alive.
This time she does not try to hide the ache of her teeth, and her hunger, as she bares her teeth at him. Caution has turned to ash and blown away in the wind. She has nothing but violence left and the fury ebbs back and forth between desert-monster and unicorn like a white-frothed river. She does not think anything can turn her from the hunger now, from the crash of her magic against her ribs as it begs for a hole by which it might sink into Andras and devour him from the inside out.
Thana is only unicorn made to destroy the world now. She is not a champion and he is not a warden. They are two hungry things in the woods.
Andras has become nothing more than a stray in her forest, a curr hissing at the wildcat because it is starving.
Thana does not know how to take her teeth from the jugular of something weak.
Eligos steps closer and the ground trembles at the edges of his claws, begging to become something else now that the dirt has become bloated with the leaking blackness of their hunger. The hunch of his shoulders is a promise and the holes in the ground as he digs his back claws into the ground a wound in the earth that promises to spread, and bleed, and consume until there is nothing left.
“Submit.” She says and tt is the last gift she will give Andras.
Eligos lunges for a wing. Thana slashes towards his throat with her blade as her teeth beg for purchase into the sharp-sides of his body.
And the immaculate darkness turns holy.
