" I have survived, but I have not been spared."
The look in Caligo's eyes settles upon Isra like a jagged, rusted blade. It cuts at her flesh and scrapes at her bones and leaves little shards of iron and tetanus behind. To swallow the pain of it feels like shoving a fire-coated sword down her throat.
Every piece of her that's still left behind after her story aches with betrayal. The sea-foam and scale blue of her gaze blazes with sadness and a little bit of rage that she pulls from the black unicorn like a tether to the real world. “That is no answer at all.” She wishes her voice could spark like a storm instead of fall from her lips like the bleat of a sad lamb who has just discovered a fence behind the rolling hills.
Caligo brushes past them as if they are no more them shadows to be chased away by the silver-light of the moon. Something in her breaks then, shatters into small sharp pieces as if that jagged, rusted blade finally reached through to the core of it.
Isra feels as if she's been cleaved.
“How could you?” She cries and she's not sure if she's asking why Caligo allowed this or why she took part it in. All she knows is sorrow and the slow boom of hurt and rage that all broken, torn apart things feels. Caligo offers no answer and soon Isra turns to head back to the keep and her people who need to know that gods can be cruel as much as kind.
And when she looks one last time at the unicorn with a storm in her skin she wonder if she's looking at her own future.
