Break Me Down

Siv Helsi · 01-03-2012, 09:20 PM

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The final moment of doubt came and passed. Siv did not feel claws at her face or teeth at her throat, and the tension slipped from her body in waves. She was not afraid to fight, but she recognized strength even when it was muted and dulled from abuse. Salvia had not damaged the woman, no, but she was clearly malnourished and healing from some sort of combat. Discipline would bring radical rebirth, Siv decided, and she smiled at the thought. Perhaps by aiding the daughter of the Auxiliary her own talents would be seen—and broad and terrible they were.

Again that throaty and foreign voice cut through the air. How many battles had she seen, the witch wondered, and dismissed the thought. Hundreds. Thousands. Those chosen for such destines would fight until they fell, and if so worthy, would fight on into the halls of their fathers. Siv was not a warrior, but she would find her place in the afterlife none the less. As a witch, it was predestined. What she did now, in this life, was the test of how far she ascended and whose face she would see upon crossing the Rainbow Bridge.

“TaeKyung,” Siv repeated, though it was not as graceful from her mouth. She struggled with the pronunciation, turning it sharper as was common for more familiar names. “What does that mean?” The question came, deciding that there had to be power behind such a thing. Her own was not a strong name by definition, but she had accepted that it was valuable none the less. Brides came from free-people and with high prices on their heads. Father knew she was certainly a most wealthy woman in her talents, after all.

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