- Messages
- 86
- Character Biography
- Link
Elle felt her cheeks heat up, tinged with the temperature of her rage that was impossible to conceal now. It seemed impossible to her that one could be so cruelly indifferent to what she had done, and under the pretense that it would be dangerous. How little she knew, Elle thought, that she could take so brazen a position without asking what dangers the witch had endured. Months earlier, she had battled the living flame, a terrible creature birthed of dark magic, which had required Elle to summon a lake itself to combat it. That creature would have burned Sol just as badly, before devouring her alive--yet she had the gall to suggest that she would be safer if she stayed here, suffered a little longer, awaiting her eventual demise at the hand of her lunar patron.
Finally, she bared her teeth, unable to contain her wrath. "My life is already forfeit," Elle said. "Powers beyond your understanding--or mine--have already claimed my life. There will be no pleasant ending for me. The time has been appointed, and ever I march towards my eventual doom. It will not allow me to die. Arrow and blade and spell have all been meant for me, but every time that happens, I--"
She was cut short as noise could be heard outside; the familiar rustling of cloth and clinging of mail, that indicated some entity or force approached, armored and likely armed. She wondered, suddenly deathly quiet as she turned, wide-eyed, to look out the window from where she stood, if these were the ones Solitude had fled, if these were the same ones she had warned Elle about, who constituted the very danger of which she spoke. Her anger had turned now to a terror, as she looked to the assassin for some kind of direction or action...
Solitude
Finally, she bared her teeth, unable to contain her wrath. "My life is already forfeit," Elle said. "Powers beyond your understanding--or mine--have already claimed my life. There will be no pleasant ending for me. The time has been appointed, and ever I march towards my eventual doom. It will not allow me to die. Arrow and blade and spell have all been meant for me, but every time that happens, I--"
She was cut short as noise could be heard outside; the familiar rustling of cloth and clinging of mail, that indicated some entity or force approached, armored and likely armed. She wondered, suddenly deathly quiet as she turned, wide-eyed, to look out the window from where she stood, if these were the ones Solitude had fled, if these were the same ones she had warned Elle about, who constituted the very danger of which she spoke. Her anger had turned now to a terror, as she looked to the assassin for some kind of direction or action...
Solitude