sometimes the old ways are best

Siv Helsi · 07-03-2012, 03:18 PM

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I'm pping, deal with it

There had always been a sense, at least in the Hearg, that women were the superior gender. Siv had been raised on such beliefs and knew them as truths. It had been remarkably easy to force herself into the role of völva, and easier still to manipulate Reykr into falling for her. What she wanted, she took. There was nothing about her that was made to bow, and while she did so now, her claws were digging deeper into the hardened flesh of their King, and her whispers would become the worm that rotted his tree.

Her daughter’s eyes were remarkably pale, and Siv knew one day they would be a gift, but only once the child understood the ways of lies. Even now they were too clear—morning mist left transparent by sunlight, pierced and open and all too easily read. Her own were opaque like uncut stones, thickened by webs of deceit. It had kept her alive this long. By hardening her heart and slowly, carefully disconnecting her emotions, Siv had crafted herself into an illusion not like her magic. Oh she had been brought down the fury of the Valkyrie upon their enemies, but for what purpose?

The child. She had killed for Draugr and most certainly would do so again.

A soft smile rippled across her muzzle, breaking the black velvet to further show her teeth. The canines hung over her lip regardless, the only true sign that she was some well-disguised monster. “Your mother is a völva, child. Did you not think that path would be yours to walk as well?”

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