Red, the color of passion..
..the color of life and death.
..the color of life and death.
Against her lean frame, splashes of color paint her leather bindings and vestments. Her face was smeared with the essence of the men that were impaled by the blade she twisted in her grasp. The bodies dropped in her malevolent dance of destruction and she cared little of how they came to an end, as long as they were dead. Emotion had drained from her features and she acted without a single remorseful thought; she was a shell of flesh delivering retribution.
The small group, which held Avenger hostage, soon found their bodies upon the unforgiving, frigid, Earth. Blood had pooled underneath them, tainting stone and dirt with red. The bird, who was in a mode of panic, fluttered his wings high, sending cool air to whip against the Elezen's soiled face. His attempt to bring her to her senses failed, for she whistled sharply and pointed to the gaping maw of the cave, where light pierced through. Her order was not to be questioned and, though hesitant he was to leave, Avenger was given little choice in the matter. His dark eyes met the pools of gold, eyes once filled with vigor, hinted at a ravine where she stored the pain fueling her actions.
"Your body.."
The blade fell from her callused fingers and clattered loudly to the ground, but not enough to drown the sound of chanting that echoed throughout this boreal chamber. Her mother gathered the remaining aether from the fallen bodies, and nearly as soon as they fell to their deaths, their bodies were languidly becoming animated, like puppets, once more. She was pulling the strings. Rivienne saw, past the tall frame of the female Elezen, the skeletal remains of her sibling trembling as she stirred it to life. It was mortifying, seeing the one so dear to you, soulless.
"..is meant to know suffering, many loses and few wins."
Malicious words warped the air around her; everything felt darker, heavier, and noxious. Her lips part and a smile spreads slowly 'pon them. The situation was not in the least humorous, yet she found delight that she had life still, and had energy to launch herself forward. Strong legs push forth with a sprint toward the first body she had slain, now fully erect. All the while, the magic gathered from her mother, was not only managing to manipulate this corpses, but it stirred to life the very threat that Carvallain worried about. The dragon, whose sinew hung to its yet wet bones, was rising to his feet. The odor grew stronger and heavy steps resound into the air; it was coming closer all too quickly.
"My songbird, dearest sister.." His voice was in the fog of her memories, whispering into her psyche.
She quickly tackled down the walking dead, pushing all of her weight upon it, and reached for the dagger he had taken from her whilst unconscious. Snapping her head up, Rivienne put the dagger between her lips and took a fistful of hair, only to make sure she bashed his disfigured face, into the stone ground. This was only to give him pause, as she pushed off his back and rushed forward to the woman who had turned away from her. Beautiful hair danced whimsically behind her slender frame as she conducted her ritual. Arms were spread out, welcoming the dragon that was causing the cave itself to tremble; debris began to fall over them. It did not put a damper on the advances of the dead behind her.
Her mother had little time to realize that it was all to late when her eyes met the ravenous gold depths that sought death. Strong fingers had sought her neck and dug into the flesh, digging deeply. This disrupted her concentration and she struggled to breath as Rivienne pulled her mother's body back into her frame. Eyes widened as they sought the dragon and she reached out for it as life was being choked out of her. Nails pierced the first layer of flesh, and like talons, threatening to tear her throat out. A feral snarl left Rivienne's lips as she heard her mother gasp in pain and attempt to speak to her.
"Rivienne. . Juliette.."
She forcefully shoved her to the ground as the bodies encircled them, even that of Marceloix, which devoid of life, rose to assault her. Danielle's body crumbled immediately from the impact as her head hit the ground hard, blurring her vision. Immediately, Rivienne was on top of her, legs straddling her chest, knees pinning down her arms and digging into them. The huntress stared down at the contorted face of torment underneath her. Blood trickled from where she punctured, the same blood that ran through Rivienne's own veins. She smelled it in the air, tasted it on her lips as she bled too. Labored breaths came from the woman and a few gasps of air, but the huntress was not going to let her find reprieve. The dagger was freed from betwixt her teeth by a free hand. Shuffling feet, loud growls and steel unsheathed, become the symphony of this closing act.
Tucking her thumb underneath her jaw, she pulled back her mother's head and leaned close, biting the air between them. Exposing her neck, she placed the tip of the blade to the very center, but her mother was not giving up yet. Her eyes were widened like a mad woman, perhaps mirroring the look now worn across the hunter's visage. Blood was spat into Rivienne's face, nearly hitting her eye, as words scornfully filled her ears. Her pulse throbs at the very words.
"He spoke your name..but you are no songbird.."
"..but a bird of prey." Rivienne concluded as steel sinks through, tearing away at the layer of flesh, striking true when ripping into the larynx. The gruesome sound was enough to cause gooseflesh, if she was not a woman accustomed to such a sinful melody. Using both hands, she took a grip of the dagger's hilt and pushed down fully, until it impaled her completely.
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.â€
Rivienne Delacroux ♚ Bowmaiden's Tumblr