>>6221461You stand behind the door, counting each breath.
Your stomach still burns with anger at the Asterite with the braided hair — comparing Ansàrra to a puppet show, as if She could be something people just made up. You grit your teeth, still tempted to just kick down the door and teach her a lesson.
But nobody moves.
And so you don’t.
The silence stretches— Rosandra’s smirk still shining just as bright as the planetary ring.
When one by one the Asterites hesitate, fidgeting and brushing their fingers down the lining of their clothes, she lets out a venomous chortle.
“Dogs ought to stay in the kennel.” She shakes her head and walks out of the circle, paying them no heed.
You hold your breath.
Maybe you were just a bit too worried.
Of course the two Powers do not like each other, but nobody would risk the diplomatic insult or — worse — spark a war just because of insults.
You release your breath and pull away—
Just in time to see the woman Asterite snap her fingers.
Her braided mane [i[explodes[/i:lit] like a snapped rope, undoing all of its braids at once, and you almost lose your balance — only Master’s teachings and Ansàrra’s grace keeping you upright — as the ground where Rosandra is walking… <span class="mu-i">twists</span>.
You cover your eyes — stone, wood, air and flesh — with a blast, everything stirs together, forming a smoking, red-hot crater with the mangled body of Rosandra at the centre, her arms bent at unnatural angle, shards of white too white to be bone sticking out of her body, her red hair pulled apart, her back folded in two like a book.
Her face still looks up, still showing that smirk, her eyes rolled back.
It’s like someone turned a doorknob and bent everything with it.
“What the—” you can’t stifle a yelp of surprise as you immediately cover your mouth.
As Ansàrra would have it, though, none of the mages turn your way. Rather, they turn on the woman.
“Serna! Starless Night! What got into you?”
[cont.]
get bent. 