((I still think heartless))
((I hope mcterra and 666demon come back soon- I guess it's only been like 4 days, but I admit I'm an impatient person lol))
Cedany coughed, expelling the water trapped in her burning lungs. She gulped in deep, uneven breaths. She sucked in air so desperately she choked on it, dissolving into a fit of coughing once again as she willed herself to slow down.
The runaway's hood did not fail to hide her, as the cloak she wore carried an enchantment that kept it from revealing her face. It's magic was a mystery, even to her. In order to possess it, one had to kill a previous owner. The hood never failed to shade the face of the one who could wear it, and only the owner's own hand could lower it. It had belonged her father, becoming Cedany's with his murder. While such cloaks were rare, she had known of several Gomorrah members who had come into possession of one. However, it's magic failed to save her now. It protected her identity, but no longer could conceal her lie. Her many layers of soaked clothing now weighed down heavily on her and hugged her curves, no longer hiding her figure. She didn't realize this fatal fact until she followed the prince's gaze and it was too late.
His sticky-sweet words carved holes in her stomach. It bruised her pride to think she had been as careless as too let him best her. The price of her failure- her secret, and then, she presumed, likely her life. If either one of her two pursuers had learned of her lie, she might have found a way to deal with them, but with both any hope of that had died. She slipped a pair of sodden leather gloves from her rough hands, which dripped with water. She raised her fingers toward her hood as if to grant his request, but never did she intend to. If her time in Gomorrah had taught her anything, it was the value of one's face and name. Anyone who knew either held some power over you. Instead, she raised her head, spitting straight into his eye.
((I hope mcterra and 666demon come back soon- I guess it's only been like 4 days, but I admit I'm an impatient person lol))
Cedany coughed, expelling the water trapped in her burning lungs. She gulped in deep, uneven breaths. She sucked in air so desperately she choked on it, dissolving into a fit of coughing once again as she willed herself to slow down.
The runaway's hood did not fail to hide her, as the cloak she wore carried an enchantment that kept it from revealing her face. It's magic was a mystery, even to her. In order to possess it, one had to kill a previous owner. The hood never failed to shade the face of the one who could wear it, and only the owner's own hand could lower it. It had belonged her father, becoming Cedany's with his murder. While such cloaks were rare, she had known of several Gomorrah members who had come into possession of one. However, it's magic failed to save her now. It protected her identity, but no longer could conceal her lie. Her many layers of soaked clothing now weighed down heavily on her and hugged her curves, no longer hiding her figure. She didn't realize this fatal fact until she followed the prince's gaze and it was too late.
His sticky-sweet words carved holes in her stomach. It bruised her pride to think she had been as careless as too let him best her. The price of her failure- her secret, and then, she presumed, likely her life. If either one of her two pursuers had learned of her lie, she might have found a way to deal with them, but with both any hope of that had died. She slipped a pair of sodden leather gloves from her rough hands, which dripped with water. She raised her fingers toward her hood as if to grant his request, but never did she intend to. If her time in Gomorrah had taught her anything, it was the value of one's face and name. Anyone who knew either held some power over you. Instead, she raised her head, spitting straight into his eye.
last edited più di un anno fa
