Ankyra Sound i got to take what i’m making, and turn it into something for you.

caiaphas had hit a nerve. her younger form would have relished to see a blow so cleanly placed -- but caiaphas was old, tired -- what once seemed tantamount victories now seemed pale, inconsequential acts in the orderless chaos that was life.

she stifled a threadbare smile, and it was not in scorn -- the gesture seemed almost bittersweet the way the smile rose and withered away, like the soft memory of a summer rose gone to rot. "you trust too easily." caiaphas intoned, her voice husky yet free of judgment. "i once did the same also."

now came the crippled laugh, all mirth cut down by poignant sorrow. "i should have never trusted a dragedan -- and you -- should never trust a rusalkan. what if i had said yes, and devised to kill you after i had earned your trust? a younger me would have loved this long game -- and believe me, i could have played it. trust no one.

no one can be trusted."

at this caiaphas fell into an eerie silence, her solemn gaze cast elsewhere -- an immeasurable grief seemed to stir under the surface of her countenance, at once pristine in its closeness, and then seconds later, far away.