empires start in an open field

Artemisia Eternity · 04-15-2012, 09:12 AM

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Word Count → 322 —

His gaze was like black onyx to her. She knew not of the worth behind the mask, because she couldn't see, but imagined his face as it was outlined and decided that it didn't matter. Immediately she liked the story of Artemis and Actaeon. More questions rushed forward about the story, such as why she killed him, and if it had been a fair killing. The dark-furred youngster probably would have preferred being named for a graceful huntress who was notable for not only her bow and arrows, but also a knee-length garb. Her trickery would have pleased Artemisia as well, but despite her capability where mind games were concerned, she found them undesirable. What happened to the dogs? She finally asked, deciding that it didn't matter whether or not Artemis had been in the right when killing Actaeon. He was dead now (if the myth was in fact true) and she couldn't do anything about it.

Sirius Revlis—her King, her mad King—did indeed know of the wealth that sprung from the innermost depths of her mind. It was, she suspected, the only reason he'd taken her on as a student. He hadn't taken a student before her, and it wasn't a slim figure or teasing smile that had enticed the man of thistle and weeds. Another term, μάσκα, which meant mask in his language. Until now she hadn't had a name for what she sought as the answer to her riddle, but felt in a jolt of excitement that she'd found what she needed. A mask, She mirrored back at the tall man, before, So there's nothing underneath it? Worry blossomed for him then, as she imagined twisted bone and gruesome torn flesh beneath the glistening white object. Where I'm from, the kids have to go on a quest, too, And you have given me the answer to mine. She smiled brilliantly, aware of the triumph settling into her marrow.

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