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Eyes were certainly on the crimson and obsidian maiden, many more than she would ever be able to glimpse. Our guards were capable and numerous, for each one that allowed themselves to be seen, there were three more hiding, scouting, roaming the borders. I passed each of them with a silent nod, my assurance here as their Seer something that was accepted with unspoken certainty. There was no real reason behind my urge to visit this prisoner - or at least, the reason was not obvious to the ordinary observer.
"How are you finding your stay within the borders of the land your group so desperately desires to call home?" The mists had somewhat returned to linger by my hocks and tail with the return of my sovereign Goddess in the skies above us, though the connection with my future sight that the mists usually blessed me with was still - forgive the pun - foggy at best. It was a comfort, however, to have the misty embrace of my Goddess return to me, albeit incompletely.
My question to her had been posed innocently enough. It was not offered in a mocking, snide manner, but with an assuredly sense of politeness, of genuine interest. It was true, I wanted to know just how a prisoner fared here, how this herd who resided within my home treated those who had threatened them. The mare before me seemed well enough, sound in body - probably still questionable in mind - I had to wonder at the death of the previous Assassin's leader, Ignita. I concluded that it had been the Gods' will that the unicorn had fallen to her death in the prison crafted to keep the Reaper himself in, originally.
With a curious turn of my tiara, I regarded this mare with quiet interest, wondering just what this interaction would bring.
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Hellena</style>
May the stars tuck you in at night,
May the Moon watch over you, always.</style>
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background pattern by Patrick Hoesly @ flickr.com
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