Post by Magda Searus on Jul 4, 2011 7:33:44 GMT -5
Seven glanced sharply to the south, feeling a sense of foreboding. It wasn't a good omen for a witch woman of her talents to feel such anxiety.
Firebreath snorted behind her, apparently still offended that she'd left him. Of course, taking this book -- the Azimuthal Forks of Triple Duplexes -- from People's Palace was as easy as making herself look like a crone. She didn't need him for protection -- and there really wasn't any need for such naive precautions. The Mord-Sith, known for their meddling, had no chance to meddle when they were shrouded by their very nightmares. In fact, the simple recollection of what she did made her yawn.
Then, as if being unexpectedly showered by cold water, the flow of time revealed the forks of prophecy. She didn't need the book, she realized. All of the forks led to utter destruction. Except one. The last branch of hope was nearly withered, and, if she didn't do anything, the world would be darkened by the dark forces of...Confessors.
"How tired are you, Firebreath?" Seven muttered absentmindedly.
"Mistress, why do you even ask if you know the answers?" the dragon retorted, his golden eyes narrowing.
"I'm Ever-Knowing, Firebreath. Not all-knowing, or I would be crazy." Seven glared at him when the flow of time revealed his thoughts. "Fine, my head has been toasted inside out, as you put it. A little, to be more accurate."
"Oh, I can see now. You're not really tired." She mumbled, hooking a lock of hair behind an ear. "That's good, we need to unleash death in the Old World."
Firebreath snorted behind her, apparently still offended that she'd left him. Of course, taking this book -- the Azimuthal Forks of Triple Duplexes -- from People's Palace was as easy as making herself look like a crone. She didn't need him for protection -- and there really wasn't any need for such naive precautions. The Mord-Sith, known for their meddling, had no chance to meddle when they were shrouded by their very nightmares. In fact, the simple recollection of what she did made her yawn.
Then, as if being unexpectedly showered by cold water, the flow of time revealed the forks of prophecy. She didn't need the book, she realized. All of the forks led to utter destruction. Except one. The last branch of hope was nearly withered, and, if she didn't do anything, the world would be darkened by the dark forces of...Confessors.
"How tired are you, Firebreath?" Seven muttered absentmindedly.
"Mistress, why do you even ask if you know the answers?" the dragon retorted, his golden eyes narrowing.
"I'm Ever-Knowing, Firebreath. Not all-knowing, or I would be crazy." Seven glared at him when the flow of time revealed his thoughts. "Fine, my head has been toasted inside out, as you put it. A little, to be more accurate."
"Oh, I can see now. You're not really tired." She mumbled, hooking a lock of hair behind an ear. "That's good, we need to unleash death in the Old World."