.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
05-02-2016, 10:22 AM
|
Isopia
She had parted from Knox/Roanne as soon as it was permissible for her to do so. Polite was not necessarily the right turn of phrase, but something like politeness bound her. Something about the cadence of the old one's voice, his soul-stamina, his mind. But, she had more pressing things to do. There was a lingering tether from her mind back to this place, to his grave, and it called to her incessantly. It wanted blood, she realized. Her blood. While self-flagellation was not something in principle she understood, at least of the body, flagellation of the mind was something she could endure. For him. For the life she had taken. She so had procured blood any other way - the blood of a God, nearly like her own, she surmised. Hurriedly Isopia returned to her clearing, however as soon as she entered her movements slowed as if she were in water. Everything was weightier here, or so it seemed to the girl. Her golden gaze locked fixedly on the grave as she began to move soberly towards it. Noting how after all this time, snow had never touch the grave. Her magic had kept it safe and secure. How ironic that she pay such attention to the dead thing entombed within, when she refused to pay it mind while it was still living. I had to- the pitter-patter of her heart pleaded over and over again. I had to- Hubris with his dextrous claws did the task. He opened the vial of blood that Isopia had won, and tenderly picked up the Isopia-doll. The dragon's pale blue stare rose to Isopia's face, waiting for her to nod or to mentally indicate that she was ready. It took a long silent few seconds, before her quad-horned skull dipped once. Hubris trilled sadly. He looked at the doll, wishing that there had been time to grab the Volterra-doll as well. But there hadn't and he knew it. Still, he held out hope that perhaps Verzes or Vadir might bring it to him...it seemed like the type of thing they might do. That they hadn't indicated that perhaps it had been destroyed soon after their departure, and for that, the bronze was deeply sad. He poured the vial of Tiger God blood onto the doll, listening as it seems to crackle and fuse. For a moment he wondered if this wasn't some arcane ritual that Isopia had hidden from his mind - a ruse to bring the child back from the dead... but the blood was just that, if not slightly more saturated in colour and perhaps more viscous than normal blood would be. It splattered the Isopia-doll, threatening to bind to the rocks forever. Something told the bronzey dragon that no amount of rain or snow or washing would ever remove the crimson stains. The demigoddess said nothing, only watched her companion with wide, golden, appreciative eyes. Once the vial was empty, the dragon looked up at his bonded, peering to see if this had made a difference. She did not feel any lighter to him as he might have suspected, but instead felt just the same. Only... there was a finished feeling inside of her. Like this had finally come to an end. Her sorrow and regret would surely endure, but perhaps now the pair could walk into the clearing without Isopia stopping always to stare at the grave. The dragon placed the Isopia-golum onto the heated rocks and whistled gently. It was finished. |
