—
He looks out at the water and seethes. He should be there, faraway, well beyond the warning-red horizon. He should be wearing a different skin, a different name, and meeting with his colonels and captains, preparing for the day.
But he is here, and they are slain or imprisoned. Elettra has no army any longer, and no king; it is run by slaves-become-rebels. He can’t picture it in anything but chaos, and if it is still burning, it is because of Isra.
And she will pay.
For now he is at too much a disadvantage. She is back among her adopted people, with her mate (the word makes something black and ugly twist inside him) and her children (another cut, smaller, no less deep). She has her dragon, and her magic (a witch, his soldiers had called her, and he had not corrected them - and certainly it is unnatural - perhaps she had sold her soul for such power, become unclean).
He had come to the desert country after seeing the tree with its glass-for-leaves and glass-for-bark. Solterra’s reputation is one of violence and justice bright enough to blind, and anyway, it is a long walk back to Denocte.
The unicorn stirs just as the other man discovers him. He weighs him levelly, not reacting to his tone, only running a practiced eye over the muscles and scars and the way he stands. Without question he is a warrior, but Martell can’t guess who he serves.
“Why,” he answers, over the sound of the waves, his inflection careless, almost flat. “Are you lonely?”
@Vercingtorix
But he is here, and they are slain or imprisoned. Elettra has no army any longer, and no king; it is run by slaves-become-rebels. He can’t picture it in anything but chaos, and if it is still burning, it is because of Isra.
And she will pay.
For now he is at too much a disadvantage. She is back among her adopted people, with her mate (the word makes something black and ugly twist inside him) and her children (another cut, smaller, no less deep). She has her dragon, and her magic (a witch, his soldiers had called her, and he had not corrected them - and certainly it is unnatural - perhaps she had sold her soul for such power, become unclean).
He had come to the desert country after seeing the tree with its glass-for-leaves and glass-for-bark. Solterra’s reputation is one of violence and justice bright enough to blind, and anyway, it is a long walk back to Denocte.
The unicorn stirs just as the other man discovers him. He weighs him levelly, not reacting to his tone, only running a practiced eye over the muscles and scars and the way he stands. Without question he is a warrior, but Martell can’t guess who he serves.
“Why,” he answers, over the sound of the waves, his inflection careless, almost flat. “Are you lonely?”
@
