"When you require a miracle,
trust in a Witch.”
trust in a Witch.”
Isra inhales as Fable lies his massive head beside her. The ground trembles on her exhale as the dragon lays down in the sand like a mighty lion might (he's always forgotting how large he is). The metal around him turns to grass, soft, plush and begging for a dream. All those dark bolts of furious rage start to die in her heart when she tells herself that there is time, too much time, to become a beast.
Later, she tells herself, later I will become the hunter once more. And then, when she steps closer across that wall she didn't realize she was building, now I am only a unicorn in a treasure hunt. The steel turns to pearl and the sun paints rainbows across the iridescent surface of it.
When she turns to Boudika it is only with a stab of recognition, because her question is one that she's asked herself over and over again. Could she turn her own bones into something else; could she remake her body into something as black as the hate in her heart? “I can.” She says and too her it feels like each word slices its way out from her lips like a blade instead of a waterfall. A moth that flies to close to them turns into a monarch. When she watches it fly back into the wind she tries not to feel too much like a monster. She fails.
Isra drags her hoof across the pearl shore as if to test how like sand it still is. At her back the sea is still crashing towards them. The tide is coming in and she can feel it tugging at Fable (and she tries not to feel it tugging at her singing, drown, drown, drown.). Her smile falters like a willow in a storm when she turns to Maerys. “I don't know if it's always been there. Someone had to show me the way to the place where it hid.” Isra tries not to fall into the memory of Eik and their deep, endless sea. She tries not to think of the continent that only the two of them know. She fails at that too and she turns her gaze towards the jungle to hide that slick shine of love sparking in her eyes.
She has always told her self that after-- after she's done being a weapon, after she's done killing-- there would still be all the time in the world left for love.
“Have you tried looking anywhere else for the relic?” This she asks because she's done thinking of how terrible her magic is and how the sea at her back is begging both her and her dragon closer, and deeper. “Me and Fable would be happy to help you look, if only for a little while.” At that dragon lifts his head and hums until the pearl under them all vibrates slightly.
It's almost easy then to imagine that the island is alive.
@Maerys @Boudika // <3
