|
The axes are in his hands and he stands defiantly upon the edge of the stone spike. The air around him swirls with increasing violence and even the terrible burning of hands is of little concern to him as the pain of his heart flows through the blades and into the living air. There have been far too many memories awakened within him these last days and this new desecration tears like talons into his heart. The thunder of his challenge to the Devourer begins to rise in his heart even as its mocking laughter begins to sound in his thoughts.
Ahh! Seh’rul! So pleasant to greet you when that horrible blanket of clouds is not draped across your mind. Yes! ...... And such rage! Surprising even for you! These last years have made you violent, but even I had no idea .....
KayLisa’s cries reach his ears, arresting violent storm of his anger and he turns dismissing the taunts of his enemy. The mocking whispers of the Devourer follow him, however, keeping nearly perfect time with his breathing.
Yes! Go to her, fool! Go to the outsider, you who have become outsider yourself. Go to her, and by all means bear my greetings to her ...... Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im! O! Such a wonderful sense of the absurd you have to name the instrument of your breaking in so delightful a way!
Again her cries reach his ear and a thunderous blast of wind erupts from between his axes. Without thinking, he steps from the jagged point, riding the violent blast after the sound of her cry. Seeing her fall, he throws both weapons toward the clearing, and, forcing himself to think clearly, extends the embrace of the winds that surround him to the air just below her movement. As her fall slows, his hands find her and he quickly gathers her against himself holding her like he has never held another.
|