Next, I will show you the time when I first met the Lady. [ Fondness. Love. Both emotions twine around his mental voice along with a fierce sense of protectiveness. ] We'll take this one slower, it's nearly a thousand years after the last one.
[ A spring wind chases away the chill inside the building. The walls start to shift and then to fade as the street once more forms beneath Piper's feet. It's night out, but with winter gone, the balmy air feels pleasant but strangely weighty. Piper's had this feeling before in recent weeks - as if a thread of the Darkness itself now winds through Draega. It prickles over the skin, beckoning and comfortable.
Piper doesn't want to seek it out. Change in Draega means trouble and trouble ends up with the streets running red until the anger and stupidity finally runs for dry for a time.
And yet, and yet, tonight she finds it harder to turn away and put the strange feeling out of mind. It's somewhere near the River North and the slums tonight.
Until it is suddenly, painfully gone.
Piper doesn't need to think, just run with steps aided by the dark power in her Gray Jewel. She knows the streets better than anyone - every nook, cranny, and short cut.
The scene she comes upon is grimly familiar. A group of hot-heads - a mix of landen and Blood - surround a female. The smack and clap of sticks along with the jabs of knives drive her back against a wall. Piper feels the dead space around them - a total lack of psychic scents and power. Muters. They must have muters.
It's not your fight, some part of Piper says with the weariness of one who spends too much time fighting. The rest of her knows this isn't a fight at all. It's a sick game that they'll play out until there's nothing left of the lady who still snarls like a fabled tiger and punishes them when they get too close. Of course, that's part of the game too.
Then, she looks at Piper and there's a moment when their eyes meet. A second, nothing more, but in it is a lifetime. The weariness fades, falling away like heavy ropes suddenly severed and one word, on feeling replaces it. Mine. Piper's Queen. The bond between them fills all of the cracks and holes formed over a life spent battling for simple things like food and scraps of safety.
It's both comfort and utterly terrifying.
Again, Verim pauses the memory. ]
That is what it feels like when a Warlord Prince finds the Queen he chooses - [ The word has an ocean's worth of emphasis. ] - and when he does she knows him too. His life becomes her and he is willing to surrender all that he is. [ Anger colors his voice as well. Just remember this moment is enough to push Verim towards the edge. ] The rest will be....intense. When you're ready.
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[ A spring wind chases away the chill inside the building. The walls start to shift and then to fade as the street once more forms beneath Piper's feet. It's night out, but with winter gone, the balmy air feels pleasant but strangely weighty. Piper's had this feeling before in recent weeks - as if a thread of the Darkness itself now winds through Draega. It prickles over the skin, beckoning and comfortable.
Piper doesn't want to seek it out. Change in Draega means trouble and trouble ends up with the streets running red until the anger and stupidity finally runs for dry for a time.
And yet, and yet, tonight she finds it harder to turn away and put the strange feeling out of mind. It's somewhere near the River North and the slums tonight.
Until it is suddenly, painfully gone.
Piper doesn't need to think, just run with steps aided by the dark power in her Gray Jewel. She knows the streets better than anyone - every nook, cranny, and short cut.
The scene she comes upon is grimly familiar. A group of hot-heads - a mix of landen and Blood - surround a female. The smack and clap of sticks along with the jabs of knives drive her back against a wall. Piper feels the dead space around them - a total lack of psychic scents and power. Muters. They must have muters.
It's not your fight, some part of Piper says with the weariness of one who spends too much time fighting. The rest of her knows this isn't a fight at all. It's a sick game that they'll play out until there's nothing left of the lady who still snarls like a fabled tiger and punishes them when they get too close. Of course, that's part of the game too.
Then, she looks at Piper and there's a moment when their eyes meet. A second, nothing more, but in it is a lifetime. The weariness fades, falling away like heavy ropes suddenly severed and one word, on feeling replaces it. Mine. Piper's Queen. The bond between them fills all of the cracks and holes formed over a life spent battling for simple things like food and scraps of safety.
It's both comfort and utterly terrifying.
Again, Verim pauses the memory. ]
That is what it feels like when a Warlord Prince finds the Queen he chooses - [ The word has an ocean's worth of emphasis. ] - and when he does she knows him too. His life becomes her and he is willing to surrender all that he is. [ Anger colors his voice as well. Just remember this moment is enough to push Verim towards the edge. ] The rest will be....intense. When you're ready.