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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3 m
Wingspan
2.47 m
Weight
123.22 kg
Genetics
Ivory
Petals
Petals
Maize
Butterfly
Butterfly
Chocolate
Opal
Opal
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Spiral
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
8
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
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The war is still raging. Not their war, not their battles, but their deity nonetheless. It doesn't matter how his queen hated her, they are still on her territory for now. Veda sent enough warriors to the frontlines, and performed the necessary rituals - however begrudgingly it was. Daleth himself trained those doomed troops, even knowing they won't make it back, just to make sure each soldier will take at least a few enemies to the grave with them, just to trade their lives with more efficiency. In the meantime, preparations for the ball are in full swing. And depending on tomorrow's final reports, the masquerade could be a celebration of victory... or a mourning for the dead. He finds her on the upper floors of the cathedral, hurrying through the crowd of servants, and follows her at a brisk pace. - There was a request for more, your majesty. I took the liberty of calculating the cost, and our treasury allows- - Don't be a fool, I won't tip the balance, - she makes the gesture with her left hand, as if slapping someone in the face, - and don't ask, I won't send you, or Daleth, or even - heaven forbid! - Chrys... - I... was talking of the flowers for the ball, your majesty. There was a request from Amenadiel. - Well, then you didn't even have to ask. Just throw half of our gold on bouquets, why won't you... Come here. She leads him to the only balcony facing the gardens, where they are finally alone. And with the door closing, her posture is completely changed from confident and perfect to an utterly exhausted one. She rests her elbows on the railing and covers her face with her hands. So unladylike. Her voiced sounds muffled: - Drop the act, Vel. Any news? - Last reports were received hours ago, and for now we are ahead, but by how far - hard to say. She sighs, heavily, with her whole chest, and stays silent. Her dress is modest today, Veles notices. She definitely breathes better without a corset... With an effort, he looks away, at the garden instead. It changed a lot since the last culling. Maybe, a new one will make her smile, he thinks, maybe it's time to contact Raksha. The ball will definitely lift her spirit, but it's day and a half away - and by that time, it will be all over already. Her beloved husband - and Veles tries not to think about him - will be here, be it to congratulate or console. - Are you still with me? - her question catches him by surprise. When he looks up again, he sees a pair of glowing golden eyes. Her eyelids are puffed slightly, with a hint of red. Did she cry not so long ago? Is her Opal acting out again? Better to ready the mages- - Vel, don't zone out on me. Answer. He just blinks at her for a moment. Slowly, the meaning of her question becomes clear. - Veda, I'm always with you. If I ever made you think that a petty brawl between two backstabbers could change my alliance, I- - No, Vel, never. But I am still- - Send them both to hell, for all I care. You know why they made us. You know what they wanted. We are not the reason, nor are we responsible for their fickle nature to begin with. - But we are actively choosing the side, both of us. We are still here, that's the problem, - she's the one to look away now, to the pier, that little red-bright blur, barely visible from here. She's clearly holding something back. - We chose our side when we decided to continue living, Veda. Not existing in their cages, like pets. You made your own path, and look at what you built - an empire! Even before Titan, you made something out of nothing, out of words and faith, and kindness- - Naivety, more like... - You stopped being naive long before you ever touched the ground, sister, - he gently takes her hands in his, forcing her to turn and meet his gaze. - And I'd like to believe I'm not that easily deceived, either: it seems you have something to say. She smiles faintly, unsure, looks down at their hands again, and it takes a minute for her to find her voice: - I've built the facade of faith, Vel. Look at me, sending my soldiers to Her side, performing exalting rituals... to stay true to the facade. Even in lies, it validates Her. It gives Her strength. Maybe, - she licks her lips nerviousy, - maybe it's time to move. - Well, I cannot say I didn't expect that, - he laught quietly. - But it's still sounds rather daunting coming from you. - If I move the church, or join Titan in shadow- - You wouldn't be able to live anywhere else. - Nonsense, I was in Earth for awhile- - And hated the sand in your tea. She grins, and he lets go of her hands, only for her to immediately grab the balcony railing again. Her gaze slides over all territory that is visible from here - gardens, harbor, Briar and Sparrow districts. She inhales deeply, the smell of the coming thunderstorm, the coming night - and the light ocean breeze, barely reaching from the Water. She would miss this dearly, he thinks. She would be miserable. So in her element here, his queen. He can't help but smile. - You're doing something great here, Veda. - Supporting the fake deity? Yes, I would imagine... - No, quite the opposite, really. You're the only one who can stand against her unstable nature. Remember the purge? - Sure do, - her face drops. She doesn't want to remember. - You don't think imperials would be really eliminated, Vel, it's nonsense. - Would be more victims without your involvement, and not just in Beacon. Your words travel, Veda. Many families joined the city after the purges too, knowing they are safe here. - And now we're sending their kids to the one witch who wished them all dead. Great job, me. - No, I made sure no refugees were listed, actually... - Huh. What I would do without you. - Oh, you'd probably try to drink your worries away, I don't know. Or better yet, Iuriti- - No-no, don't you start about him. Because I will probably take your suggestions as instructions. - How risqué. Her eyes sparkle for a second, just like before this damned war. If he made her forget, even for a second... - I don't want to move, - she admits at last, almost in a whisper. - I thought of it, for many months now, but getting out of here means only getting under someone else's command. Merely starting over. - And they're all the same, aren't they? Powerhungry counterfeits, who quite literally ate their predecessors. Never anything new with them... - Nowhere to go. No land is without a deity now. Even the wet one isn't really that far gone yet... Besides, Water is the last place where I'd go. - What, beating even the Plague? - Oh, well, Plague and then Water. - Ice is cold. - And then Ice. - And Arcane is rather gaudy, no? - ...Veles, I swear. |
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Noble woman, beating her kids. Young man, something will set him off to murder his own wife. A child will break both hands in a month. Bone, out of the skin. It hurts, daddy. A splash of red, wooden floors, a spike... No. This will steal. A coin, a fire, outside the window, it's winter, six years. A girl in a church. Twelve hours of surgery, oh god. He gets a year for each hour, he will be out, he will find her again, he will finish what he started. Sharp smell, a boot, a handle... Nothing but pain, and sorrow, and death. Their thoughts are vile, they will all do such things, they will all hurt somebody. There are all one, every crowd, every day, every pair of eyes staring at him, shoulder brushing past, running away, not noticing. Which one is better? Is this one worse? Can he intervene? Should he? He is raw, and numb. Futures, futures - not just one, but countless possibilities. To find a trigger, to trace it back to the one word, one glance, a smile and a colour... he will go mad sooner. He can't do this anymore. It was fun, it was interesting, and he was curious, but it's already decades since he fell, and those things are everywhere. He can see everything. When will it stop? But it didn't. It all led to a god, a single thing he liked, single being he wanted for himself, so beautiful in this pain, graceful in suffering, but filled with love, giving out everything, unconditional, absolute. And he lost it - twice, to be precise. What good can he be, if even a being of love can't love him? Catch the bouquet, dear brother. For what? For her, innocent in her wickedness? For his god, who can't be seen? For the people - all the people, hurting each other, killing each other? The emptiness he feels is a blessing. A shard of ice where his heart should be. One child, two, three... It was the best outcome, the lesser evil. Oh just hold him, this one looks like a god and costs cheaper than dirt. A bath to replicate the scent, silk and oil. Close your eyes, they can never be the same anyway. Here is your bliss, boy, see you again in a year, or when the coldness is unbearable: waking up alone after dreaming of hands holding him. Future can offer him nothing. |
 И все цветёт в их глазах И боли нет, и меркнет страх Скажи зачем живет она Любовь что яд, любовь что смерть Лишь бы не снилось счастье в ночи Всё ль позабылось? Только молчи Слёзы катились сквозь сердце в ручьи Ночью приснились руки твои- |
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I am simply a man who can no longer look away
I am simply a man who can no longer look away
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