Vaeltia’s mouth snaped shut, and her eyes burn clear with rage. She let the ties of the Aether fall from her throat and dropped her hands to her sides.
They were clenching and unclenching in an attempt to contain her rage. The Obrimos let her eyes close as she let out a stuttering breath through her nose.
One....Two....
Three.....Four....Five....
Logically....
Six....Seven....
“Who are you?”
Oopsies
Vaeltia’s eyes flashed again, this time the anger rising hotter than before, but she kept herself from casting the spell again.
“Who are you to say anything? You’re nothing but an absentee counselor who should have been stripped of power months ago.” She looked up at the woman and her crossed arms, and then beyond her to the Hierarch.
“And you Animus, your strength has left you, you are constantly searching for a base, you are not fit to be hierarch. Your throne has become a cage, and you no longer want it.” She paused for a moment as the pressure of tears began behind her eyes.
Sometimes the truth hurts. For once the Daimon said something that wasn’t going to tear her down inside, but she had to finish what she had started.
“Neither of you are fit for the positions you hold. I may be nothing but an apprentice and a child, but even I have eyes.” Tears were falling from her eyes, as the words and feelings within her bubbled up and over. Her small form still standing resolute, and her voice still hard, like a final judgment being proclaimed.