"Illyria." She spits the name out as a challenge. "The Merciless. God-king of the Primordium."
Her full title. Her rightful title.
"My world had no Morningstar," she says, now prowling in an incomplete semi-circle around the thing, never once removing her gaze from it. Pancakes keeps easy pace beside her but keeps her attention focused on the dragon, the smaller and much less...impressive thing, as is her wont. "The Wolf, the Ram, the Hart, they took its mantle. Built a world of mortal frailty upon the bones and kingdoms of Old Ones."
She halts in her pathway, head once again canting to form a precise, angled stare of icy curiosity.
"Yet you are here now. Among mortals." Her lip curls faintly on the last word. Mortals. The fluttering trapped things, useless ephemera that had the audacity to bind her to a shell in their image.
no subject
Her full title. Her rightful title.
"My world had no Morningstar," she says, now prowling in an incomplete semi-circle around the thing, never once removing her gaze from it. Pancakes keeps easy pace beside her but keeps her attention focused on the dragon, the smaller and much less...impressive thing, as is her wont. "The Wolf, the Ram, the Hart, they took its mantle. Built a world of mortal frailty upon the bones and kingdoms of Old Ones."
She halts in her pathway, head once again canting to form a precise, angled stare of icy curiosity.
"Yet you are here now. Among mortals." Her lip curls faintly on the last word. Mortals. The fluttering trapped things, useless ephemera that had the audacity to bind her to a shell in their image.