#cascaed

it  may  have  taken    hours  of  convincing    on  her  part,             but  here  they  are,             finally    !            hands  gently  push  on  his  shoulders,             guiding  him  to  sit  down  with  his  back  to  her,             brush  already  in  hand  and  ready  before  he  can  even     think    of  changing  his  mind.             no  take  backsies  allowed     !                     ❝           oh,             this  is     so     exciting     !             are  you  excited     ?             i  am     !           ❞                     she  leaves  no  time  for  him  to  answer,             brush  already  mid  way  through  a  section  of  dark  locks,             ever  so  gentle  when  a  knot  arises.                     ❝           now  this  isn’t  so  bad,             is  it     ?           ❞

it rains again. storms seem to follow in her wake, lighting fierce and bright, thunder loud and commanding - she had liked the rain once, but after the war it felt sullied. it brought with it the taste of blood on her teeth, and the feel of her sword made slick between her fingers. 

her armor is swollen and heavy, hair refusing to be tamed, but worst of all - the rain had soaked straight through her shoes. having found a shallow cave at the depths of the mountains, she stripped down to her under armor, and optimistically laid her things out to dry. fire was a bit trickier as she had to convince the evil power lurking in her bones to let her borrow some of it's magic, but she made it work. however, even in the warmth of the flame, there seemed a supernatural chill in the air tonight.

" why does it always have to be so cold? can't we have a nice summer monsoon or… how about no storm at all for once? " / @cascaed​ / for eritai.

     it figures that the all-powerful sorcerer of izenyol - master paradox, to her, as his guard had so politely reminded - would be hidden away within of the grand castle of a kingdom that towered before her like an ominous reminder that soon too her own light would be cast with an infallible darkness. it was foolish to expect to be let within the vicinity of the castle what with the dark title that followed her like a lifelong trauma after the war, the terror of y’altair - she was fortunate enough to find that her wrongdoings had not followed her across the sea, but... making it to the castle and making it into the castle were two very different things. 

   he’s amused ,  to say the least .  a mere underling ,  daring to call him a liar ?  this is interesting .  a smile plays on his lips ,  a joyful hum escaping him before eyes turn dark and begin to bore daggers into natsuo’s skull .

   “ now …  what makes you think i’m lying ,  hm ? “