ForrestHunt

ForrestHunt t1_j4pqxkf wrote

"... Is what the Vizier was saying, at least. Fools, all of them."

I watched as Arliya continued her work, the scent of ground myrtle thick in the air, her knife moving in slow, exact strokes. She didn't respond.

"So, a sympathetic connection is a given with this, but what's the Manifestation?"

Another knife stroke, and she tips the collection bowl onto the mirror. A thick red film spills across it, placid as night.

"Sublte Possession than. Will I need to prepare the guest accommodations?"

Skin separates of flesh neatly, the incantations scarred into it flickering with power.

"A shame. Guests are so rare. I suppose I'll speak with you when you've had your fun than."

The carcass is tossed in the fire, bone blackening, flesh charring.

An infantile cry echoes from the back.

"Oh, he's awake. Still in need of a lock, yes?"

Fools rarely understand why Witches demand what they do. Fools rarely understand that power comes not from law and tradition for us, not like Fae-kin. Power comes through connection.

Blood runs thickest, after all.

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