Cruel torture, the taste of battle and blood, the frustrating anxiety over her now-unmasked companion; all of the above led to Iaira neglecting to hold her tongue and lash out with a not-so-refined form of sarcasm;
'You mean, apart from what in Hood's balls you mean?'
She had known many religious rituals, hell, she'd been part of a significant amount herself. Flies buzzing around, taking everyone's already flimsy sanity away, finding the open wounds and sucking blood from them, sticking to the honey covered bodies, blissful in their immobility. Wolves' hearts ripped from the beasts' chests, blue fires lit during magnificent fetés.
Therefore, the woman's words, in her head, could easily be taken literally. And Iaira liked the new hue of her attire too much to let it burn with her.
'History is lovely and all- though I do have some basic doubts on whether this should be called 'history'. I mean,' Iaira's incredulous tone was now becoming stronger, her eyes wandering around the Parish, 'Dragons? You mean to make me believe in dragons?'
She scoffed.
'The Eleint,' she continued,' are scarce. And almost extinct. That is because they are immortal divine beings. I only know of one species that has...' A brief pause. A glance at the woman. These people...they really did believe, with a blind, absurd amount of destructive faith. Faith that could be used as a barrier against an otherwise relatively advanced nation.
The assassin straightened. Emerald fixed on grey.
'Propienne,' she drawled, 'Weilder of an unthinkable amount of power. Godsbane. Favoured by the Dragon. And yet he is no longer here with you, his bones rotting somewhere, in some hole within this keep surely, or even more suitably, burnt to dust. Now, unless what I'm suggesting is false and you still preserve his body somewhere -the location unimportant for now, though I doubt you'd know, low-ranking as you are,' a grin slowly formed on her lips, tugging the corners upwards, as she looked down, beneath the raised platform to watch the magma rise and flow, 'you believe he won't just return. You harbour the illusion you will be in a position to bring him back.'
The liquid fire jumped and boiled, the flames emitting a heat strong enough to make one's vision blurry with tears if they tried to focus, licking the blackened rocks surrounding it. Somehow, so strangely...containing it.
'The real question is, love,' stone tearing in two, lava flowing between the cracks, filling the crevice, 'what happened to him?'