08-29-2022, 12:52 AM
Ryatah
It does not escape her that he uses the word it, implying that he and the version of himself that had unleashed such chaos across two kingdoms were separate from one another. She is inclined to believe him, since he doesn’t really have a reason to lie to her—she has been hurt numerous times by those she cares about, and no one has ever attempted to spare her feelings by lying to her, and she does not expect an almost stranger to do so either. They have spilled her blood and buried painful words like barbs into her mind, faulting her for every misstep, and never did they soften their blows with lies or excuses.
Perhaps that is her own moral flaw, to so easily turn a blind eye to the cruel things that others do; to forgive and pretend to forget for the sake of avoiding conflict.
To allow herself to shoulder the blame in some way, so long as it means she will not have to endure being alone; so long as it means they will keep coming back.
She makes a soft hum of acknowledgement to what he says about Mazikeen not letting him—it—hunt angels, but does not say anything else. It had been her that had healed Maze when the cursed creature had left her nearly dead on the shores of Hyaline, but she finds herself wondering why he had obeyed the fiery mare’s request to not harm Ryatah while not doing the same for Maze herself. She is all too familiar, though, with how twisted and impossibly complicated relationships like that could be—she is sure she has forgiven Carnage for similar, if not worse things.
“How can you be sure the curse is broken for good?” she asks, her dark eyes sweeping across his face with a hint of skepticism although her tone is mostly curious. She could not lie that she found the idea of being cursed mildly interesting; the thought that one could supposedly do things so wildly out of character, things that they would never usually do. She wants to know more, wants to follow that familiar pull of darkness that she can never quite resist. “You said familial. Is there a possibility it simply lives in someone else now?”
Perhaps that is her own moral flaw, to so easily turn a blind eye to the cruel things that others do; to forgive and pretend to forget for the sake of avoiding conflict.
To allow herself to shoulder the blame in some way, so long as it means she will not have to endure being alone; so long as it means they will keep coming back.
She makes a soft hum of acknowledgement to what he says about Mazikeen not letting him—it—hunt angels, but does not say anything else. It had been her that had healed Maze when the cursed creature had left her nearly dead on the shores of Hyaline, but she finds herself wondering why he had obeyed the fiery mare’s request to not harm Ryatah while not doing the same for Maze herself. She is all too familiar, though, with how twisted and impossibly complicated relationships like that could be—she is sure she has forgiven Carnage for similar, if not worse things.
“How can you be sure the curse is broken for good?” she asks, her dark eyes sweeping across his face with a hint of skepticism although her tone is mostly curious. She could not lie that she found the idea of being cursed mildly interesting; the thought that one could supposedly do things so wildly out of character, things that they would never usually do. She wants to know more, wants to follow that familiar pull of darkness that she can never quite resist. “You said familial. Is there a possibility it simply lives in someone else now?”
EVEN ANGELS HAVE THEIR WICKED SCHEMES
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Gale