Eularia felt Elgar'nan slipping through her thoughts, tendrils gentle and slow across her mind. And by the time she realized what he was doing, it was too late. He'd sealed the connection. He'd tricked her.
....Little Crow, Little Crow, come a little closer, see what I see....
His voice was gentle. Soft. And yet there was a firmness, a commanding tone to everything he said. And she neared him, she claimed the dirk. Eularia stood there, contemplating whether she might be strong enough to turn around and stab the god-king through the heart.
Images of how she might flay the god-king's skin from his body, leaving sinew and bone visible to the open air. Her breathing quivered, as she stared straight at Frankie.
[color=#c14700]“She is Mia Mariposa and butterflies never settle. And I, will love her, regardless of any usurper's meddling.” [/color]
Her lower lip trembled, and she exhaled slowly. Elgar'nan hissed in her mind, that she was to bring her husband's heart to him. And she moved, without thinking.
She moved.
To obey.
She stood in front of her husband, mouthing silently,
Not the emotional pain, no. But the physical. He would feel nothing, as she worked. Some part of her was begging him silently to struggle, to try to get away, to hurt her in return... But he did not. He had always known his death would be at her hands. Had always known he would die first. She knew every carefully planned detail of his funeral. Because she knew this man like she knew nobody else.
Eventually, when Francesco fell to the ground from blood loss, Eularia loomed over him. Tears mixed with his blood, and when she had cut just right, to display a heart that still beat only because of her magic preserving it... She leaned for one last kiss. Lifeless and gone, still warm thanks to the spells she was holding. And carefully she freed his heart from the corpse, still beating in her hand.
She was numb, as she stared at the organ. It shouldn't still beat, and yet she couldn't forego the magic that would cause it to still. If it stopped beating, then it was real. Eularia heard people, screams for the guards. She heard the clamor of townsfolk trying to see what was going on. And she turned to stare at Elgar'nan, still holding the knife in one hand. When she realized this, she dropped it, like it burned her.
And both hands cupped the heart. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else, as she approached the man, her arms as she offered the heart to him.
All the while, crying silently.
....Little Crow, Little Crow, come a little closer, see what I see....
His voice was gentle. Soft. And yet there was a firmness, a commanding tone to everything he said. And she neared him, she claimed the dirk. Eularia stood there, contemplating whether she might be strong enough to turn around and stab the god-king through the heart.
Images of how she might flay the god-king's skin from his body, leaving sinew and bone visible to the open air. Her breathing quivered, as she stared straight at Frankie.
[color=#c14700]“She is Mia Mariposa and butterflies never settle. And I, will love her, regardless of any usurper's meddling.” [/color]
Her lower lip trembled, and she exhaled slowly. Elgar'nan hissed in her mind, that she was to bring her husband's heart to him. And she moved, without thinking.
She moved.
To obey.
She stood in front of her husband, mouthing silently,
I love you—I love you—I love you...the words were meaningless and she could not find her voice. The blade in her hand felt like it belonged there, and she inhaled sharply. One hand raised to his chest, pressed over his heart. The blade hummed with magic, it was just as hungry for blood as she was. Sobbing quietly, she dug the blade into flesh. And she numbed his pain with her magic.
Not the emotional pain, no. But the physical. He would feel nothing, as she worked. Some part of her was begging him silently to struggle, to try to get away, to hurt her in return... But he did not. He had always known his death would be at her hands. Had always known he would die first. She knew every carefully planned detail of his funeral. Because she knew this man like she knew nobody else.
Eventually, when Francesco fell to the ground from blood loss, Eularia loomed over him. Tears mixed with his blood, and when she had cut just right, to display a heart that still beat only because of her magic preserving it... She leaned for one last kiss. Lifeless and gone, still warm thanks to the spells she was holding. And carefully she freed his heart from the corpse, still beating in her hand.
She was numb, as she stared at the organ. It shouldn't still beat, and yet she couldn't forego the magic that would cause it to still. If it stopped beating, then it was real. Eularia heard people, screams for the guards. She heard the clamor of townsfolk trying to see what was going on. And she turned to stare at Elgar'nan, still holding the knife in one hand. When she realized this, she dropped it, like it burned her.
And both hands cupped the heart. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else, as she approached the man, her arms as she offered the heart to him.
All the while, crying silently.
09-21-2023, 08:57 PM
