Bile.
It burned her as it bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. She had not eaten, and perhaps it was a godsend, for she heaved and spilled contents upon the cavern's floor. Her knees pressed together and she struggled for support against the jagged wall as golden eyes stared at her leather-clad feet. The memory jarred her, but not more than seeing the defiled bones of her brother, not at rest.
The laughter that rose in the air held little remorse, nor concern, for Rivienne's well being. She was amused, her mother, with the fact that her little unveiling had such a response. This only fueled the loathing that began to spread like a plague within her; the entire dilemma enmeshed her mind, body and soul. Ah, but it was not just her voice that filled the air, the low rumble soon replaced any surly sound her mother could have conjured.
From within the deep recesses, of this wretched grotto, groans penetrated the air. Dark magic was at work, foul enough to leave her mouth with a taste far worse than the vomit that lingered on her tongue. Rivienne slowly gathered the remainder of her strength and shut away the world around her. The grotesque sounds fell to deaf ears; laughter faded into the very void of darkness surrounding Gabrielle.
Words had little meaning, she had been done with speaking, for such would be a waste of breath. Rivienne saw the world for what it was, a cruel jest. The man she sought to find answers for rests with his jaw agape; the woman she looked to was a mockery of love and a vessel of malice, and these Dravanians wished nothing but to end her life. Then so be it.
Finding strength, her body twists with a spin of her heel and she breaks into a sprint toward the nearest, glamoured, wyvern. The one that had her bound. With a serpent's precision, her arm rose and an open palm reached for the back of his head. Her mother let's out a shrilling cry to alert him, but it was all for naught. Fingers dug into his scalp, and a free hand claimed the blade in his grasp, by the steel edge. The cry of surprise was but music to this song bird, who harbored little emotion in her gaze, whilst standing with her knee to his back now. His hair was twisted into her grasp, forcing him to bend back to her strength. Their eyes met for a heartbeat, but his gaze was soon directed to the wall, that came to greet his face. Rivienne bashed his head a few times into the ridged, wall of stone, until pulp made up his countenance.
The sword was let free, at the same time, his body dropped forward, falling against the crimson streaked surface. Rivienne, who never handled such a heavy blade, found endurance to carry it. The dance of chaos now filled this frigid hall, and the participants of this waltz were all in place. Rivienne could see Avenger trying to fight his way free and avoid injury, though he was outnumbered and would soon fall if it was not for her interference. Thinking little of her own well being, she kicked aside the fallen body and ran, with blade in hand, to the back of one who raised his own sword and was to strike down her companion.
Metal sought an area not concealed by armaments, the back of the neck. With both hands upon the grip, the bowmaiden comes to an abrupt stop and places the blade above her head. Swiftly, it delivers death through the back of his skull and applies force to ensure the blade sees light on the other side.
It burned her as it bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. She had not eaten, and perhaps it was a godsend, for she heaved and spilled contents upon the cavern's floor. Her knees pressed together and she struggled for support against the jagged wall as golden eyes stared at her leather-clad feet. The memory jarred her, but not more than seeing the defiled bones of her brother, not at rest.
The laughter that rose in the air held little remorse, nor concern, for Rivienne's well being. She was amused, her mother, with the fact that her little unveiling had such a response. This only fueled the loathing that began to spread like a plague within her; the entire dilemma enmeshed her mind, body and soul. Ah, but it was not just her voice that filled the air, the low rumble soon replaced any surly sound her mother could have conjured.
From within the deep recesses, of this wretched grotto, groans penetrated the air. Dark magic was at work, foul enough to leave her mouth with a taste far worse than the vomit that lingered on her tongue. Rivienne slowly gathered the remainder of her strength and shut away the world around her. The grotesque sounds fell to deaf ears; laughter faded into the very void of darkness surrounding Gabrielle.
This moment would define the woman Rivienne tried to avoid becoming, the woman fueled by martyrdom. .
The woman she needed to be at this very moment.
Words had little meaning, she had been done with speaking, for such would be a waste of breath. Rivienne saw the world for what it was, a cruel jest. The man she sought to find answers for rests with his jaw agape; the woman she looked to was a mockery of love and a vessel of malice, and these Dravanians wished nothing but to end her life. Then so be it.
Finding strength, her body twists with a spin of her heel and she breaks into a sprint toward the nearest, glamoured, wyvern. The one that had her bound. With a serpent's precision, her arm rose and an open palm reached for the back of his head. Her mother let's out a shrilling cry to alert him, but it was all for naught. Fingers dug into his scalp, and a free hand claimed the blade in his grasp, by the steel edge. The cry of surprise was but music to this song bird, who harbored little emotion in her gaze, whilst standing with her knee to his back now. His hair was twisted into her grasp, forcing him to bend back to her strength. Their eyes met for a heartbeat, but his gaze was soon directed to the wall, that came to greet his face. Rivienne bashed his head a few times into the ridged, wall of stone, until pulp made up his countenance.
The sword was let free, at the same time, his body dropped forward, falling against the crimson streaked surface. Rivienne, who never handled such a heavy blade, found endurance to carry it. The dance of chaos now filled this frigid hall, and the participants of this waltz were all in place. Rivienne could see Avenger trying to fight his way free and avoid injury, though he was outnumbered and would soon fall if it was not for her interference. Thinking little of her own well being, she kicked aside the fallen body and ran, with blade in hand, to the back of one who raised his own sword and was to strike down her companion.
Metal sought an area not concealed by armaments, the back of the neck. With both hands upon the grip, the bowmaiden comes to an abrupt stop and places the blade above her head. Swiftly, it delivers death through the back of his skull and applies force to ensure the blade sees light on the other side.
![[Image: jqza5eX.png]](http://i.imgur.com/jqza5eX.png)
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.â€
Rivienne Delacroux ♚ Bowmaiden's Tumblr
