Her body is cold. She doesn't realise it immediately, until she sees a wispish thing wrapping about her, before it moves forward, and child start to materialise before her. Kneeling on the ground, small and slight. She does not need to see its face to know it for herself, and Herian almost dry heaves.
Not this. Not this. The demon taking her father's face in the Fade had been one thing, but to be here again, to smell wet earth and rotting vegetation was so much more.
"Don't worry, little mischief." Spoken in the language of the Starkhaven alienage, their own dialect, and the dagger against his throat pricks in harder. A switch to trade, then. "Everything will be f—"
The knife pulls up, and the ghost of her father screams at his ear is cut away, the next in quick succession. Herian's eyes close. Not again, not this, not again. It came to her often enough in her dreams, and every time she is frozen and can't move to stop when the Dalish jerk the blade across his throat.
cw mutilation / murder
Not this. Not this. The demon taking her father's face in the Fade had been one thing, but to be here again, to smell wet earth and rotting vegetation was so much more.
"Don't worry, little mischief." Spoken in the language of the Starkhaven alienage, their own dialect, and the dagger against his throat pricks in harder. A switch to trade, then. "Everything will be f—"
The knife pulls up, and the ghost of her father screams at his ear is cut away, the next in quick succession. Herian's eyes close. Not again, not this, not again. It came to her often enough in her dreams, and every time she is frozen and can't move to stop when the Dalish jerk the blade across his throat.