Too bad dark languages rarely survive
#2
DaVinci hadn’t expected to see Zana before the evening meal and when she’d appeared out of nowhere, standing in the doorway to his chambers dripping wet and obviously dressed in a hurry he raised a brow, he had been about to ask her what was going on, that was until he saw the look of malcontent upon her face. He turned back to the commanders he had been conferencing with, dismissing them early from the meeting, noting the looks they gave one another as they quickly made their way past the slight figure and disappearing out of sight.

DaVinci picked up the papers and brought order to the chaotic desk as he asked without glancing up, ”What is it Zana?” Having a feeling he already knew what was wrong, the Ollamh had informed him that Zana had gone into her first cycle recently and they were well pleased. He had dismissed the facts quickly, not wanting to know what new dangers his sister was getting herself into other types of swords. When she’d arrived just moments before though he’d realized that she hadn’t been told yet what she was viewed as within the clan. It was more than apparent that she damn well knew now.

He turned his eyes back up to his sister, knowing that any minute she was going to explode and yet wishing that he could shut down the whole thing before it even started. When Zana began to rage she could cause great havoc on the mind and make a soul feel worn and weary. He did not wish to feel like an old man this early in the afternoon but he had to admit to himself that he had this coming and he probably deserved it. Firefly at least had known what she was in for when she was adopted into the clan, he wondered If that was why she’d suggested DaVinci take Zana along. He had a lot of choice words for his absent sister but he figured he should face down this one before beginning on another.


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