Inkheart
JUST LIKE FIRE, BURNING OUT THE WAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
Her body more broken than not, she uses her wings to carry her refined mass through the desert lands. The Elder Teryr that they had fought wounded her greatly, its first attack wounding her much worse than the others. Still, she follows the group and the resulting leader back to their home in the Day Court. Her wings grow tired from bearing her weight for so long, but still she persists. Her pinion wounded, broken within, she can place no weight on it. A gash marking her from shoulder to ribcage - half of her body - still looks raw, though the blood has stopped pouring from her wound. Now it simply stains her hide, dry and flaky.
Golden orbs watch the new sovereign exit the library, then enter the central hall. Another follows him before her - the giant known as Leviathan, so aptly named. Another female, one she does not recognize, follows behind the large stallion. Her wings assist her as she tries to put more weight on her four legs. Silently she enters the hall, crown lower than normal, for she is ashamed of her wounds. Her weakness. Still, she pulls up next to Leviathan, orbs half-lidded as she dips her head to the new King. The mare she was unfamiliar with offers her service to Maxence.
She tries to lift her crown, to carry herself a little higher, prouder. She takes a deep breath, lifting her head to watch her King. Her lids lift and her orbs start to regain a little of the fire they held before they took on the great and terrible beast known as the Teryr. Let it not be known that Inkheart, Prophetess of Solis, could be defeated so easily.
