SAFRIN
She might have killed him then for that look. That crisp indifference, the lack of fear, the haughty confidence that often those who thought themselves blessed seemed to carry. And he thought Frey cared for him? That perhaps they’d intervene were his life to be in peril? Safrin considered slashing his throat, if only so that as his last breath bubbled away in his own blood, that he’d know it wasn’t true.
But death was so messy.
“Loyalty. Fealty.” She replied instead, her eyes narrowing with a challenging sparkle. Each of the gods offered their chosen and devoted a different gift. Each a pathwood towards both destruction and greatness. If Loren wanted to align himself with the laziest of them, then so be it.
But death was so messy.
“Loyalty. Fealty.” She replied instead, her eyes narrowing with a challenging sparkle. Each of the gods offered their chosen and devoted a different gift. Each a pathwood towards both destruction and greatness. If Loren wanted to align himself with the laziest of them, then so be it.
