11-20-2018, 10:40 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]A part of her was glad that she had been met with no trivial greetings or mundane words, the pair that had joined her doing nothing but respecting the silence that she so easily maintained. She offered them both simple nods, her expression remaining wholly neutral as she gathered her thoughts. She supposed that she had no need to be secretive, not anymore, not when she had forsaken every aspect of her old home. In a way, they were enemies now - that meant nothing had to be left out.
"My clan was known as the Ironbeaks, one of the three groups that lived in the Iron Mountains. I am a direct descendant of a coven of witches from a time long passed but the only reminder of my divine heritage is my blue blood," Agathe paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in. There were many aspects of her clan and its history that were as bloody as they were confusing and even overwhelming. Especially with the presence of a child among them, she knew she needed to take breaks every now and then. "Long before my birth and even the birth of my matron, the grandmother, there was a great war among the witches that resulted in their untimely demise. The founder of our clan was the last touch we had with that world and eventually, each and every one of my ancestors lost their magic. Despite all that, my bloodline in particular remained in charge. I'm a direct descendant of the first founder and thus, was named heir as soon as my eyes opened. The Ironbeaks do love their golden eyes, after all."
She made a sound that almost resembled a laugh, head shaking bitterly. "My people do not find sense in peace and so I was brought up to be a harbinger of destruction. That brings us to present time, I suppose. I deviated from my people, my duty, and now I'm here. It's as ironic as it is awful, isn't it? The scars on my side are a reminder of that." It wasn't much of a history lesson, but Agathe found that the more she spoke, the more those bitter feelings seemed to twist and grow inside of her. Monsters are made, not born, Her mind reminded her, and she looked away.
"Any questions?"
The words were barely audible.
"My clan was known as the Ironbeaks, one of the three groups that lived in the Iron Mountains. I am a direct descendant of a coven of witches from a time long passed but the only reminder of my divine heritage is my blue blood," Agathe paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in. There were many aspects of her clan and its history that were as bloody as they were confusing and even overwhelming. Especially with the presence of a child among them, she knew she needed to take breaks every now and then. "Long before my birth and even the birth of my matron, the grandmother, there was a great war among the witches that resulted in their untimely demise. The founder of our clan was the last touch we had with that world and eventually, each and every one of my ancestors lost their magic. Despite all that, my bloodline in particular remained in charge. I'm a direct descendant of the first founder and thus, was named heir as soon as my eyes opened. The Ironbeaks do love their golden eyes, after all."
She made a sound that almost resembled a laugh, head shaking bitterly. "My people do not find sense in peace and so I was brought up to be a harbinger of destruction. That brings us to present time, I suppose. I deviated from my people, my duty, and now I'm here. It's as ironic as it is awful, isn't it? The scars on my side are a reminder of that." It wasn't much of a history lesson, but Agathe found that the more she spoke, the more those bitter feelings seemed to twist and grow inside of her. Monsters are made, not born, Her mind reminded her, and she looked away.
"Any questions?"
The words were barely audible.
[font=arial][color=#510205][size=16pt]WATCH IT [i]GROW[/i], CHILD OF WAR
[align=center][div style="margin-top: -9px; font-size: 10pt"][color=black][font=helvetica]agathe ashyver | the ascendants | astral seraph | tags