>>6330704>Carnaval will manage to arrive in time>Now you just need to dice what Argia she will find# # # # # #
Rosandra, you have seen it before, has always been quick.
Her brown eyes widen in surprise at the appearance of Helias and Bragia.
Who knows when was the last time she has seen them, and now—
And yet, with all her swift, she falls to a stillness like a piece of stone.
Esta is next.
“You…! Here?” Her voice creaks at the seams as she takes a step forward. She is completely healed, it seems, remade anew by Ansàrra’s piety.
Such a contrast to Helias’ new body and Bragia’s patchwork skin, where the Kiengir is slowly spreading.
“Not <span class="mu-i">now</span>, Esta,” Helias seethes, shielding his beloved.
“N-No, I wanted to…” she attempts to say, only for Rosandra’s voice to cut through.
“I did not want to believe it.”
Bragia’s single green eye shifts towards her.
“In all my centuries of service I have seldom prayed to have misinterpreted the will of the Sun-Birtherm” Rosandra continues. Her right hand twitches. “She had warned me the Seven would attempt to strike through our most beloved daughter. I did not want to believe it.”
“I-It’s not like that…” Bragia tries, turning her face away. “It was—”
“I did not intend to listen to lies or deceit,” Rosandra interrupts her, taking a step forward. No weapon appears in her hands, but her hands are already weapon enough, like you remember.
That time with the Asterite. Even if this is a Rosandra a few centuries younger and perhaps less experienced, you already know how this is about to go.
So was it her who—
“<span class="mu-i">Stop!</span>” Esta dashes ahead, setting herself between Helias, Bragia and Rosandra. “I know something is not right! I-I was there when it happened. I-If she came here by herself it must be because we can still help, we—”
“I have been patient with you, Esta Tempestatis, but it is time to step aside when it comes to matters beyond your ability to change,” Rosandra sighs. Her voice soft and yet as absolute as a blanket of snow, turning every color into stark white. “Or understanding.”
Esta turns towards Bragia and Helias.
Bragia’s arm tightens around his black body.
She grits her teeth.
<span class="mu-i">“Putain de merde,”</span> she spits.
[cont.]
