Kyraila; a demigoddess from long ago. The daughter of Hecate, a powerful deity and master of magic. Kyraila had big shoes to fill, but her life was her own, and she knew that. She knew that she wanted to protect people, fight for them because someti...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Kyraila was head-strong in her march to the throne room, a stern expression etched her face. She was determined in the plan she had, she was feeling mixed emotions, she was distraught, angry and it wasn't new feelings. Kyraila had felt all these feelings before, in her past and more than once. It was like a cycle with her, find someone to care for, fall in love, and then something tragic happens and breaks them apart.
The throne room edged nearer, the stone corridors all were the same, some laced with trophies of the King's achievements and small windows here and there. Men in the distance noticed the approach of Kyraila - their Queen and went straight into defence mode, pulling free their swords. Kyraila didn't waste any time and shot out her hand, as a bolt of green energy shot from her palm, hitting the oncoming men. As the energy bolt hit them, it exploded, sending swirls of green out, flinging the guards to each side and into the stone walls. It was a quick knockout and she strolled straight by them, not giving them another thought. The large wooden doors to the throne room were locked, but Kyraila could easily deal with that. With a simple flick of her left wrist out, the double doors shot off their hinges and went inside of the throne room, and landed at either side. At the far end of the room was the King on his throne, a few dozen guards were surrounding him - in their defence mode with their swords drawn aimed at their Queen.
"Come in my love," he spoke smugly, trying to act calm and tranquil, as he didn't want to show any weakness in front of his men.
"Hiding behind your soldier?" Kyraila questioned, arching up an eyebrow to her Husband as she strolled into the throne room.
"Was a matter of time before you came," he announced, rising from the throne, and coming down the little steps that the throne had.
"I am no killer, and death would be too swift for you," she swore on the matter, she wasn't a killer out of anger or revenge.
"But you come here with the intent to hurt," Edward retorted, hiding behind his men still. "Do thy worst Witch! People will hear about this for centuries to come!" His voice bellowed throughout the throne room, emitting that dominating tone.
"No, history will not remember me as an evil Witch," Kyraila spat back to her Husband, as she did not want to be remembered to history as an evil person. "No one will remember me," Kyraila was sad about the events that were going to transpire. "Nunc memorias et memorias veteris," Kyraila began to chant a spell, extending her arms out towards the King and his guards. Green energy laced her fingers, flowing out.
