ajatar
devils speak of the ways in which she'll manifest;
angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress.
The granite cliffs rise above the lulling sea in a scene of such serene peace that it makes Ajatar stop and stare. She'd seen water before - there was the river, Tephra's volcano is surrounded by water, even Pangea - which was now sunken into the ocean - was a water encircled wasteland. But this? Nothing was quite so beautiful, quite so peaceful as the way the crags and crevices touches the water. She pauses at the border - in part out of politeness, in part of awe, and watches the waves for a few moments before considering what to do next.angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress.
Why was she here, truly?
Longclaw. He approached her in Tephra, leading her through the river and the lands with that silly blue light over his head. Everything was fine - fine! - until...until it wasn't. She was sure he hated her now, sure that he regretted being her friend and what she had the power to do. It occurred to her - more than once - that she was no different from her mother. The power that flowed through her veins was tied to the ancient magician and traced farther back still to her grandsire, an equally evil magician. She closed her eyes to blink away the tears and the memories.
No, she was not like her mother.
Not yet.
But their ultimate goal was Nerine. Longclaw spoke of it with such reverence she had to see for herself. She couldn't rest until she'd explored all of Beqanna and its ever shifting landscape. How long before another shift brought about the end of life as she knew it? She was born after the time of magic, she didn't truly understand what she had to lose.
So she waits, quietly, unsure of what for - on the edges of the border of the kingdom.
@[Longclaw]