Purification of the Lands (1 Viewer)


send help lmao
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Darys stood over on a nearby hill as the fields burned, a pyre where the statue once was, all aflame in the night. Hilda rested next to her in a wheelchair watching over the fires as well.

"How did it try to mess with you - Freydis?" Hilda asked quietly.
"My home. Al'Sel. Showed me how.. small everything is, how little it means."

"Were you swayed?"
"I'm standing here, watching it burn with you." She glanced to Hilda. "It struck close to home, though."
Hilda grimaced, "Aye, just as I expected. You've done well." Hilda leaned her head against Darys.
"I am not entirely sure if I'll be able to remain steadfast when the time comes for me."

"You'll remain steadfast or I'll knock it into you." Her gaze went back to the flames, watching as the pyre partly collapsed.
Hilda's breaths became more ragged, but gave a breathless laugh.
"Right, save me some of the pride - can't let it be known that the Jarl gets beaten by her elder sister." With that, the crippled Jarl gestured one of the thralls forwards, and was carried back to her men.
"Could be worse, could always be worse. Rest well, Hilda." She spoke as Hilda was carried away.

Darys remained there until the sun rose again, until all that was left was smoldering and embers. Afterwards, she left to follow behind Hilda.



Rascal Does Not Dream of Chaos
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As if by a mockery of nature, after about a sept of time, grass began to regrow, and trees began to sprout from the ground. How insignificant, Indeed.

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