12-16-2015, 10:47 PM
all that we have amassed sits before us, shattered into ash
Cress emerges from the trees, nearly wraithlike in her appearance. She has not been around in so long... and not by choice. She’d had things to do, or something. The last thing she remembers is her mother and the fire in her throat and the insults and flames thrown this way and that. There is not much after that. What had she done in those months? Things are fuzzy. She knows she was not around to be an active member of the Valley. She remembers Demian’s absence (she still feels it, like it is a hole in her chest) and Gallows’ uprising. Her and Fennick rule here now.
Apparently Cress had picked up a promotion along the way, for whatever reason. Maybe because Gallows believes in her more than she believes in herself. Cress has never had a reason to believe in herself, but that’s a story for another time. If one were to stick to the same story all of their life… people are bound to get bored.
She wasn’t exactly pleased about Gallows’ intrusion in her mind, but she has almost gotten used to the way that the mare calls them together. It is foolproof, after all—there is no way to avoid the call if you are within the Valley, and it seems as if not many of them have been venturing outside much lately. No offense to them or anything. Maybe they have been active and recruiting and doing other kingdom-things. Cress sure hasn’t. She doesn’t think.
The wall is being taken down. The flame-kissed markings on their cheeks will be removed. There must be other gods besides the Dark One, for something like that to happen. She will not fault Demian for the wall—it was a good idea and she, personally, cannot find fault for anything he has done—but she is glad nonetheless for its removal. She’s sick of cringing and screaming every time she is to travel through it—not that it hurts. The pain is all mental and you’d think it would get easier with time and practice, but it has not. The only flames she needs are the ones on her tongue.
“The Amazons would be useless as an ally,” she says, tail flicking over her hindquarters almost as if she were bored. “They are so wrapped up in their egos and their vines that they will be lucky to ever find the way out.” Perhaps she is being brazen but there is something in her that doesn’t care either way. “As of now, I only see the Chamber worth keeping as an ally. The rest are weak. Infinitely weak.”
Maybe this is growing up. Giving up on naivety. Something that is turning into a different something. She doesn’t know. “What kind of game are you suggesting with the Chamber?”
cress
oxytocin x kindling
infected.