When are you really gonna believe in yourself
The woman does not snarl like the fire that roars into the sky. Meira is surprised that she is able to share her story, uninterrupted. But she sees the storm brewing in the face of the mare. The fire is quickly stamped out with a rush of air that escapes from the mare's lungs. It is her turn to listen. She is quiet, so quiet once more. Meira does not understand what the mare shares with her, because she is not a mage. She has so rarely seen magic used for good, so rarely that she can hardly believe it. The woman rolls her eyes and Meira laughs. There is no ounce of mirth in the sounds that pours from her lips like tainted wine. "Perhaps you should someday. I was kept silenced when I was trapped in Denocte. I refuse to be kept silent any longer, and maybe I can help one of the many others I know of that are trapped there too. Maybe your story could continue to do good for those weak like me." The words taste like mulled wine as they burn on her lips.
The woman who is made of fire, and so reluctant for anyone to get too close, does not give her pity. She bristles again as she speaks of the mages, and asks Meira who she believes to be responsible for this festival. Again she is quiet, allowing the monster to devour her from the inside out. It is clawing its way to the surface, but her anger is a gentle hum for now. "Is it so strange a concept to you, that Novus is a terrible place if you know where to look? Especially because of some mages... For every good and beautiful thing magicians do, I can promise you that there are others out there who are doing heinous things twice over. Can you honestly say that there is not a single individual who fears you? What about your friends, imagine what it would be like if you had lost your magic? As for my king... I do not need to trust in order to serve. Blind trust is a dangerous thing." Meira almost laughs, but the warning falls from her lips instead.
The woman speaks once more, telling her that she is and always will be surrounded by magic. Telling her that she will have to someday put the past behind her. It is her turn to laugh, and a smile like war crawls across her face. "No. The past will not go quietly. I will not move on until I have erased every last memory of their existence from the face of Novus. There will be none who will remember them, and there won't be a soul who will forget what the heat of my wrath feels like. Meira promises the woman as if she has any sort of personal investment in this matter. Then she turns, turns from the woman made of fire, and disappears back into the shadows.
The woman who is made of fire, and so reluctant for anyone to get too close, does not give her pity. She bristles again as she speaks of the mages, and asks Meira who she believes to be responsible for this festival. Again she is quiet, allowing the monster to devour her from the inside out. It is clawing its way to the surface, but her anger is a gentle hum for now. "Is it so strange a concept to you, that Novus is a terrible place if you know where to look? Especially because of some mages... For every good and beautiful thing magicians do, I can promise you that there are others out there who are doing heinous things twice over. Can you honestly say that there is not a single individual who fears you? What about your friends, imagine what it would be like if you had lost your magic? As for my king... I do not need to trust in order to serve. Blind trust is a dangerous thing." Meira almost laughs, but the warning falls from her lips instead.
The woman speaks once more, telling her that she is and always will be surrounded by magic. Telling her that she will have to someday put the past behind her. It is her turn to laugh, and a smile like war crawls across her face. "No. The past will not go quietly. I will not move on until I have erased every last memory of their existence from the face of Novus. There will be none who will remember them, and there won't be a soul who will forget what the heat of my wrath feels like. Meira promises the woman as if she has any sort of personal investment in this matter. Then she turns, turns from the woman made of fire, and disappears back into the shadows.
