This is the long forgotten light at the end of the world
Privately, Seren thought the war brewing on the horizon now seemed plenty complex. But she bowed her head over her craft and merely listened, keeping her comparisons to herself. As the picture grew, she came to wonder if something similar had happened to the Voice. Was it a madness, a sickness of the mind and soul that brought her to do what she had? Or was it something far less obvious - mere curiosity, a desire to find the limits of power and keep pushing, no matter the cost? She doubted she would ever find out. Or that it mattered much.
"It sounds terrible," she mumbled softly, for lack of anything better to say. What did you say, to something like that? "Did you all win, then?" It was easy to assume so, but she had to ask. The notion of a wound to the soul of that degree, of having to 'put someone down' for a loss that was already terrible, made her feel ill. Umbra too let out a soft keening sound, mourning for the severed bond - their minds curled in on one another, wrapping tight in a tangle of impressions until Seren all but lost track of where her body ended and his began.
"It sounds terrible," she mumbled softly, for lack of anything better to say. What did you say, to something like that? "Did you all win, then?" It was easy to assume so, but she had to ask. The notion of a wound to the soul of that degree, of having to 'put someone down' for a loss that was already terrible, made her feel ill. Umbra too let out a soft keening sound, mourning for the severed bond - their minds curled in on one another, wrapping tight in a tangle of impressions until Seren all but lost track of where her body ended and his began.
Seren
