❝ᕼEᒪᒪ ᕼᗩTᕼ ᑎO ᖴᑌᖇY ᒪIKE ᗩ ᗯOᗰᗩᑎ SᑕOᖇᑎEᗪ.❞
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( SHADOW AND BONE ━ SEASON ONE )
( BOOK ONE OF THE INFERNAL TRILOGY )
(disclaimer: I do not own SAB. I only own Anya Oryalen and other scenes and characters...
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ᴀ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴇ
"Drakon Sankt'ya." The words, so simple as they may have been, echoed through the library as another chill crawled down Anya's spine. She turned around and the Apparat's presence alone was enough to make her feel revolted. "Why the title Apparat?" She hissed, not particularly kind. He crept forward to meet her before he spoke "I heard you performed quite a feat before you got captured." The raven-haired narrowed her eyes at him, on guard and unsure what he meant. "Words always have a way of coming back to us. This tale of a dragon on a battle field reminded me of it." The old man said as he tapped on the spine of one of the books, turning to look at the one she had in her hands
The Oryalen woman covered it with her hands, not wanting to show the book. "Out at night for some reading material are we? What is it that you are looking for? Perhaps I can be of assistance." The Apparat said a bit all to eager with a hand on his chest and an unfamiliar but unsettling glimmer in his rat like pupils. "The last thing I need is your help so if you'll excuse me, I need to try and catch some sleep." The young grisha woman said, slightly irritated. The old man only chuckled. "We'll see about that." He said ominously. "Tomorrow is a big day for you so good luck." He finished before turning away in the shadows and the inferni marching back to her room, not being able to shake the feeling that someone or something was watching her.
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Night had fully fallen as Anya rushed back to her rooms, the book tucked underneath her arm. It moved against the fabric of her shirt, the feeling strange as there was no kefta in between. Shaking her head, she opened the carved doors, swiftly locking them behind her. "Try to disturb me now you old cooty bat." The raven-haired muttered as she put the book down on her desk. The book was large and leather bound, gold engraving it's front, resembling the Istorii Sankt'ya a little too much that it made her shiver lightly. The Oryalen woman patted the dagger in its sheath at her side before pulling it out, looking intently at is as she sat down. Her fingertips tiptoed at the hilt as she twirled it around, the gold weaving it way down the dark path and cresting into flames as it reached the obsidian-like blade with tendril looking arms.
She sighed as she put the dagger back, moving for her closet to grab a night gown. As she undressed herself, the young grisha woman's eyes wandered down her scar littered body, from the volcra wounds on her shoulder to the cuts that ran down her arm to bullet wounds to- the inferni frowned as she turned the other way, a large rip flowing down her leg like water as if large teeth had raked past. Her hand wandered down, fingers skimming the top of the scar. It looks healed, but she couldn't remember where she got it from. But then again, her own mind played tricks on her sometimes, as if it was to protect herself in the Ice Court so maybe she forgot about this too.
