Chapter 65: The Cure at Last, Part 2: Escape of an Enemy
@VoxxVoleur @Leopardmask @luckgandor @Ximena @Galaxy99 @tigressRising @Ezmara @Solaristigres @Violetah @Willowoak @CatsAndMaths @Silverhame @Netshy @magykalwagykal @Petall
((A short part two, but it accomplished what it needed to.))
Zahira shifted uneasily on Pebble's shoulder. Her wing suddenly throbbed with pain where it had been broken the last time this red-eyed menace had been seen. She was so caught up in her own rush of fear and hate (the last time was also the day of her son's death) that it took her a moment to realize that Pebble's shoulder was vibrating with a sub-audible growl as the enemy Nocturne's tail casually pressed against Asimov's neck.
The dark Nocturne twisted her head to the side, looking from Lemsiel to the audience, silently assessing. The two other Nocturnes she had firmly in hand, but these, these were the ones she must watch for. Then she felt a familiar tug, one she hadn't felt since before she died, and she smiled. Pestilence was near.
It was good to know that her magic was finally coming back. The Great One had preserved her when her rightful rule had been overthrown and her subjects had killed her. Though not alive, she had endured, and then drawn into this worthless, puling creature under her claws. Her smile turned wicked at that thought. And then this delightfully ignorant Arcanite had given her a new body.
She had despaired when she realized what a fool she'd been pulled into, but she had recognized the gift she had been given nonetheless, and waited. Patience was an attribute the Great One prized. Pestilence found her despite the breaking of their bond upon her death, and she sent him to find a more suitable place for her. And he had found it. After that, it was easy enough to influence her idiot host to leave his home Clan and go to the one that Pestilence had been preparing.
Chaos and terror were the next step, and, of course, the perpetuation of the Curse that had drawn her to her host. What better way to sow terror than to rip the Clan apart from itself. Delightful. Even when jailed, she had managed a great deal mischief. Not the least of it was internal. Even now, as Asimov struggled against her tail, Oti lay quiescent under her claws.
All eyes in the room were on her, including one pair the others were not aware of. Pestilence surged silently out of the ceiling, watching her. She could feel his delight and reassurance through their bond. She could get out, and he would help. The only question left was how much trouble to cause before she left. It would be only a short exile, and then she would return to rule. These dragons were already fracturing away from one another.
She looked around again, carefully meeting each pair of eyes, and was decided. She had sown enough strife for now. More would create itself, now that she was separated from her host. She nodded to Pestilence, and he threw out his hands, throwing webs of living flesh over all the dragons outside the circle. In one moment, she was inside the circle, the next she was through the shield, and down the hall. They were oddly deserted. She had expected to have to fight her way out, but no one was there.
She was out the front doors and past the place where she had killed that idiot Guardian, and then Pestilence was there as well, streaming along beside her.
"You did well, Pestilence," she murmured, knowing he would hear her.
"Thank you, my Lady," while he sounded inordinately pleased with himself, she supposed she couldn't blame him. It wasn't easy even for a Disciple of the Great One to hold a pawful of dragons, even for a moment. "I have also found a place for you to rest and keep supplies. May I show you the way?"
"You may," she permitted, now pleased in turn.
@VoxxVoleur @Leopardmask @luckgandor @Ximena @Galaxy99 @tigressRising @Ezmara @Solaristigres @Violetah @Willowoak @CatsAndMaths @Silverhame @Netshy @magykalwagykal @Petall
((A short part two, but it accomplished what it needed to.))
Zahira shifted uneasily on Pebble's shoulder. Her wing suddenly throbbed with pain where it had been broken the last time this red-eyed menace had been seen. She was so caught up in her own rush of fear and hate (the last time was also the day of her son's death) that it took her a moment to realize that Pebble's shoulder was vibrating with a sub-audible growl as the enemy Nocturne's tail casually pressed against Asimov's neck.
The dark Nocturne twisted her head to the side, looking from Lemsiel to the audience, silently assessing. The two other Nocturnes she had firmly in hand, but these, these were the ones she must watch for. Then she felt a familiar tug, one she hadn't felt since before she died, and she smiled. Pestilence was near.
It was good to know that her magic was finally coming back. The Great One had preserved her when her rightful rule had been overthrown and her subjects had killed her. Though not alive, she had endured, and then drawn into this worthless, puling creature under her claws. Her smile turned wicked at that thought. And then this delightfully ignorant Arcanite had given her a new body.
She had despaired when she realized what a fool she'd been pulled into, but she had recognized the gift she had been given nonetheless, and waited. Patience was an attribute the Great One prized. Pestilence found her despite the breaking of their bond upon her death, and she sent him to find a more suitable place for her. And he had found it. After that, it was easy enough to influence her idiot host to leave his home Clan and go to the one that Pestilence had been preparing.
Chaos and terror were the next step, and, of course, the perpetuation of the Curse that had drawn her to her host. What better way to sow terror than to rip the Clan apart from itself. Delightful. Even when jailed, she had managed a great deal mischief. Not the least of it was internal. Even now, as Asimov struggled against her tail, Oti lay quiescent under her claws.
All eyes in the room were on her, including one pair the others were not aware of. Pestilence surged silently out of the ceiling, watching her. She could feel his delight and reassurance through their bond. She could get out, and he would help. The only question left was how much trouble to cause before she left. It would be only a short exile, and then she would return to rule. These dragons were already fracturing away from one another.
She looked around again, carefully meeting each pair of eyes, and was decided. She had sown enough strife for now. More would create itself, now that she was separated from her host. She nodded to Pestilence, and he threw out his hands, throwing webs of living flesh over all the dragons outside the circle. In one moment, she was inside the circle, the next she was through the shield, and down the hall. They were oddly deserted. She had expected to have to fight her way out, but no one was there.
She was out the front doors and past the place where she had killed that idiot Guardian, and then Pestilence was there as well, streaming along beside her.
"You did well, Pestilence," she murmured, knowing he would hear her.
"Thank you, my Lady," while he sounded inordinately pleased with himself, she supposed she couldn't blame him. It wasn't easy even for a Disciple of the Great One to hold a pawful of dragons, even for a moment. "I have also found a place for you to rest and keep supplies. May I show you the way?"
"You may," she permitted, now pleased in turn.
