I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF

There is a complexity to Erebos that does not yet exist in Wessex; as she looks at her General from across a strip of sand that seems far wider than it really is, she does not curl around her seared insides the way he does. She lives in her wounds, in the pain that finds her beaten and bruised, weary, but immensely grateful for whatever wind comes rushing oft the salty sea, for the constant lapping of waves and seagulls cries that refuse to leave the two warriors in silence. She probably won’t reflect on the blur of bodies and swords just yet, not unless prompted to. It’s a thing she must have distance from, for with time comes emotional severance and the ability to analyze logically and accept criticism without dismay.

And then there’s that bit of darkness left, a flicker of something that tinges the world with the faintest shadow - not just on Erebos alone, but the whole of Helovia - Kaos, Tiamat, the army, Rikyn, Manon. Something that granule of truth of his rubs up against in confession. Lizard-yellow eyes narrow as she gazes at him, though it’s not in anger at his strike, it’s more a look of consideration, for she’s still a tad unsure what really happened to her. No, she cannot be angry, because it means he didn’t hold back on her - that he thinks she can take it, take the worst (is it, even?) that he can throw at her, and come out on the other side. It means she drove him to it, and that, perhaps, is the best thought of all.

“How?” she asks after a moment, which is quickly followed by, “And what was it, exactly?” Psychic powers - hell, even ‘regular’ powers - weren’t a part of her land, her kingdom of normal equines. She hadn’t always been able to pack this kind of punch, to slice and dice with a savage enthusiasm and feel her victim’s blood run down her own face.

There’s a violence in her that was already there, a choice she made long ago to enter this merciless world and make the best of it. Young Wessex hadn’t these amazing tools, then, only impeccable instructors. Now, it seems, she can turn this mutation (that disaster) around for the better. Greed, then, and ambition take hold and run with the thought, causing her to take a few steps towards the dark stallion in her eagerness. “How can I get power like that?”

Together, they could conquer the world. It is a simple, singular driving thought - the things they could do!

W E S S E X