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Quoted By: >>5883519
>Previous: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Path%20of%20the%20Exorcist
Your journey back to the academy is a slow and arduous one, delayed by the arrival of thunderous storms that turned roads into rivers. At times it seemed as if some unknown force was trying to prevent your return, but you had little choice but to struggle on. You talked little during that journey, you and Cloranthy. One day she woke with eyes reddened by tears, but her expression invited no questions and you offered none.
When, finally, you arrive back at the academy you are greeted by a startling emptiness. The academy seems abandoned, all but deserted. Your first thoughts are of some great disaster, but perhaps not. The few people that you do see wandering through the corridors seem calm enough, albeit too busy to stop and answer any questions. After dropping Cloranthy off at her dorm, you head straight for your own quarters.
The faint murmur of conversation is cut off in an instant as you open the door and peer inside. Barely a matter of heartbeats after you set foot inside the dorm, Harriet crashes into you and wraps you in a tight embrace. Looking over her shoulder, your eyes find Persephone instead – her eyes are wide with surprise, and she seems frozen in the act of sitting up. A second later she recovers her composure and coyly sits back. Pale flesh flashes before you as she crosses her legs, the long slit in her skirt displaying limbs as straight and sharp as a sword's blade. She wears her hair differently too, piled atop her head in an artistic mound of braids. You feast on the sight of her, the familiar details and the new changes both.
Tearing your gaze away, you tentatively return Harriet's embrace as Persephone's mocking eyes drill into you. With a little squeak of alarm, Harriet all but leaps away from you as the realisation sets in. “Oh gosh,” she begins, hastily shaking her head, “I've gone and made a fool out of myself again, haven't I? I'm just so glad to see you again, that's all!”
“I... suppose you are,” you reply slowly, somewhat lost for words. There's something very strange, very unfamiliar, about such cheerful words – even if they do have the air of performance about them.
Your journey back to the academy is a slow and arduous one, delayed by the arrival of thunderous storms that turned roads into rivers. At times it seemed as if some unknown force was trying to prevent your return, but you had little choice but to struggle on. You talked little during that journey, you and Cloranthy. One day she woke with eyes reddened by tears, but her expression invited no questions and you offered none.
When, finally, you arrive back at the academy you are greeted by a startling emptiness. The academy seems abandoned, all but deserted. Your first thoughts are of some great disaster, but perhaps not. The few people that you do see wandering through the corridors seem calm enough, albeit too busy to stop and answer any questions. After dropping Cloranthy off at her dorm, you head straight for your own quarters.
The faint murmur of conversation is cut off in an instant as you open the door and peer inside. Barely a matter of heartbeats after you set foot inside the dorm, Harriet crashes into you and wraps you in a tight embrace. Looking over her shoulder, your eyes find Persephone instead – her eyes are wide with surprise, and she seems frozen in the act of sitting up. A second later she recovers her composure and coyly sits back. Pale flesh flashes before you as she crosses her legs, the long slit in her skirt displaying limbs as straight and sharp as a sword's blade. She wears her hair differently too, piled atop her head in an artistic mound of braids. You feast on the sight of her, the familiar details and the new changes both.
Tearing your gaze away, you tentatively return Harriet's embrace as Persephone's mocking eyes drill into you. With a little squeak of alarm, Harriet all but leaps away from you as the realisation sets in. “Oh gosh,” she begins, hastily shaking her head, “I've gone and made a fool out of myself again, haven't I? I'm just so glad to see you again, that's all!”
“I... suppose you are,” you reply slowly, somewhat lost for words. There's something very strange, very unfamiliar, about such cheerful words – even if they do have the air of performance about them.
