You Think I Won't Talk?

The cursed archaic tool his allies had given was now taken out of his pocket... it was a small crystalline rock in which’s inside a bone, seemingly a piece that would pertain to a finger’s structure was held in his palm, rubbing its pointy end to prick his own finger so the opening of a cursed path could enable his escape... with an unconscious Marianne in his arms.

A hole opened in the thick of the Palace’s walls for Paul to walk through... and no soul noticed... how the Empire’s Ninth disappeared. For the work of a miserable one had shamelessly started to pursue its crazed desire... against us and our chosen child...

— They took the child... even as she wore Aenean’s tear... —

— It’s power... grrhaa... Dares chain mine....! —

— ... The wait was meant to end... our friend... go to the blood you protect... the child and her body’s souls... aid the one in love to get them back... —

— ... khkh grhaa... aid is his to give... my bloodthirst... compares to my protegee’s rage... —

From Izeneya, above where the doings in the realm could be watched, commenced to intently observe the mortals unfold in actions. The beastly Fenrir’s roar infected their solemnity... for they could see those below move without a push from the divines... Already having in their mind the child brought to fight another’s war.

— Ah... young he is... his love is nonetheless vast... our aid, let us give it to Oregor’s blood... —

Their eye fell on the one strong and in love... who before was aching in shock.

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