>>6124262>>6124262You cross your arms over your armour, making the hexagonal tassels crinkle.
Maybe it’s just this Asterite’s personality, but she’s allowing you to sidestep your usual shyness. You feel like you can speak frankly, and ripping a page off Rubida’s book, put some venom in your voice.
“I suppose you have Crows for that,” you reply, turning to Soralisa for support. She nods and sets the book back with the others. There’s so many shelves to cover the entirety of the walls — you doubt all of those are just her worknotes. But with a mage able to change text after it has been written, who can say? Soralisa gives you a faint smile of support. You certainly listened when she and Master explained the history of the Throne to you. “They have insofar proved useful enough. I’m sure the Emperor sure thinks as much.”
Sandora sets her head against her hand, looking at you with her usual amused smirk.
“Oh, he is far too paranoid to allow the rope tied to our neck any slack, I assure you. But yes that is usually a correct answer. The Throne has used Crows to keep us in line. Just look at the Throne funny, and your career as an Asterite will be cut short, in favour of a long career as a useful generator. Certainly one much less troublesome — but that is precisely the point here.” She taps on the glass vial. “This is Silt. It comes from the Borderlands, and it’s the substance we need to keep control over our bodies and minds when the Stars act through us. Without it, the magic inside us rips through our bodies, like a voracious tumour. An Asterite running out of Silt is first in line for elimination. But sometimes you can’t get to him fast enough. Sometimes, even the eyes of the Crows can grow dull. For example…” she waves her hand over an empty sheet of paper and the inks changes once again, raising from the page to form a structure — a hill, no, a building, no… that’s…
“… a Temple of Flame,” Soralisa gasps, getting closer to the ink structure.
[cont.]
