glory and gore | cal

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[attr="class","title1"]Glory and Gore

[attr="class","subtitle1"]There's a humming in the restless summer air
And we're slipping off the course that we prepared
But in all chaos, there is calculation

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Magicless.

Lowered down, as if she was normal, rather than a Maenlarys. Daeron and Duncan and worthless Jenny had been spared. It had dragged down everyone else but Jaehaerys, the sole responsible son. She'd like to find what twists of fate brewed this illness, and strangle them herself. Magic was in her blood, and this weakness had stolen it away. Fortunately, after the fever had sapped their strength, they were looking normal again, the result of Maenlarys blood running true, even in Rhaelle. Her sister still shone in the moonlight, their father was still slender and beautiful, luminescent in the looks he'd had from father and grandfather.

Lig-Na-Paiste still took students, and she'd been moved to a theoretical program in Bangor. She could still Floo, at the very least, the flames wrapping around her as she was thrust into traveling. Cleansing flame, almost, for all that it was magicked, not flame quite as true as it might have been. She had to be even more wary around Glæma than usual, as the mazvetta sensed weakness like a true dragon ought to. The sharp feeling of disconnect pierced her-- she knew they wouldn't even be accepted on Faroe. No better than Squibs, and there was little proof she and Shaera could do magic, shipped off as they were to Hogwarts.

She needed. . .she didn't know what she needed, cut-off from what she knew. She would have preferred losing her memory, losing her mind to losing this great sense of disconnect. It was best to keep herself distant when she was in private, as she could never allow others to see her crack. When the world was continuing to fall apart, there were always places to be seen, places there must be veneers. This part of Wales was unfamiliar, as she'd rarely cared about exploring. Her classes had been all that mattered, and it would simply be wrong for her to ask Callahan to meet her at her own university. No, that wouldn't be fair, and they ought to at least put in the same amount of effort. She hadn't had classes at Bangor, he was off from the Ministry. Fairness, after all, was required.

To show fear-- to show anticipation, or any sign of nerves was weakness. So Rhaelle stood among the apple trees, waiting to see which direction her teammate would come from.

[attr="class","tags1"]☆ @callahan , 393 words ☆