Blackwater Islands chape

the listener's presence seemed to revitalize the red girl. she had questions. the prophet thought back to the night she had followed the wolf with fur like sand, to the words that had been exchanged. here was an opportunity to demonstrate her power — to make sure that the girl would, on some level, leave blackwater with the knowledge that the druids were not to be crossed. the listener needed no violent words or spilt blood to convey this, and the knowledge filled her with pride.

neither. the spirits speak with a voice that cannot be heard, but felt. seen, perhaps. they may take the voice and words of a living soul, but rarely create their own, half-truths; the listener would not have the girl know what it truly meant to walk in the otherworld. these were the secrets of blackwater. the spirits spoke to me in the voice of a man. they spoke of you. with this, the prophet's mismatched gaze found the girl's ruddy features. mireille of sapphique. oh, how she wished to know what the sandy woman's last words had been in this moment!

referencing this thread