Hello my lovely people! Dinah and Zen's reunion seems just a little chaotic, doesn't it? Stay tuned for more drama (~‾▿‾)~
Time can not pass quick enough. I’m sitting in the barred window of the holding room. Outside, the sky is alight with the moon and stars, and cold air caresses my face. A steady burn in my wrists accompanies me, courtesy to the bits of silver in the chains. The one on my neck stings like an open w
I sprint down the stairs. Now that he’s seen me, I hope to hell Zen can make it to the church doors. I’ll go and get Sparrow. The city gates are close by. We can make it, we can— I still in my steps when the doors of the tower flings open, men spilling inside. I’ve only taken a single step back wh
I ignore it, swallow thickly as I get to my feet. My world sways, but I lock my knees, forcing my legs to stay upright. “We need to go.” I tighten my hold on Zen’s hand, my voice scratchy Zen stares at me long enough for a thread of worry to coil around my heart. Then he nods, once, sharply. “We
But Zen looks away from me, shoulders dropping infinitesimally with a sigh. The sheer relief that washes over me at the small familiar action is unimaginable. “Very well.” He mutters quietly He lets go of my hand, gesturing for me to walk ahead. Silently, I start forward. Now my whole body aches,
Zen straightens, and pins me with the weight of his full attention. “What are you doing here, Dinah?” Now my shoulders slump, the last few days meshed up in a haze in my head. “I cant go home.” I say, my voice so quiet I’m not sure he hears it “The Seer said that for whatever reason, my soul belo
“I’m not asking you to live, Sigmond.” I hold his gaze, my own fierce “Find me a way home and I’ll gladly shove you off a cliff.” Distantly, I’m surprised to find how much I mean the words. I’m tired of this barbaric place where they hit first and ask questions later. I’d do anything to go back hom
The Bishop looks annoyed, but says nothing about my tone. I’d like to imagine it’s because I look more pissed then him, but its probably because of Zen. God, I hate this place. “Your manner of speaking is… different,” The Bishop says, likely because their accent is different from mine “State your
By the time Fredrik knocks on the door again, I’m ready. It’s significantly colder outside the church, and moonlights cuts through fog. I look around for Zen, and don’t have look long because he’s walking straight towards us. “Are you ready to go?” He asks, taking me in in a single swiping glance