A child, a mystery, a powerful Etherealnik... and perhaps something more. Even Kishira has yet to uncover all of her own secrets. But maybe it starts with the ominous black bird that haunts her windowsill and the space between her collarbones.
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os alta, east ravka
Kishira felt the eyes that followed her when she entered the ball. For once, though, she didn't mind the staring. She knew exactly who she was and what she was, and in the past few hours, tonight had gotten so much more interesting than just a party.
Sharp blue eyes staring at her.
It's him. He's here. She was certain of it, she just didn't know why.
The mystery and the suspense had her running on high. She loved it. Her lips were curved into a permanent grin – a real one – as she made her way through the room, shaking hands, inclining her head, laughing at bad jokes. None of it mattered because she was on high.
A few people noticed how the shadows spiralled out around her heeled boots with every step, and it triggered some recoils, some wide eyes, 'oohs' and 'ahhs'. She knew her power was feared more than it was admired, but she didn't mind for now.
Suddenly, an arm looped through hers, pulling her in a different direction. Blue Kefta, black hair, dark eyes.
She smiled. "Enjoying the Fete, Zoya?"
"Indeed I am, Moya Lyeshi," the squaller replied with a smirk. "How has my favourite Shadow Summoner been?"
Kishira shrugged, that little smile still playing at the corner of her lips. "Alright."
Zoya's eyes narrowed playfully. "You're up to something."
"What– how dare you?" She replied with mock offence. "I am up to nothing, Zoya dearest."
°
The pair of inferni finished up with their show of flames, and then a new figure stepped up onto a pedestal.
Her silver locks were half up in thick braids winding into a spiral almost like a bun at the back of her head, and her Kefta... Kaz could not refrain from admiring the craftsmanship, the inspiration.
The design was quite clearly her own. From the waist down, it could have just been a fancy version of a kefta, but along her lower back, the feathers started. They trailed up her spine, spreading further the higher they went until they pointed out off her shoulders like knives, or a pair of small black wings.
Her palms were settled over one other, facing downward before she turned them inward, bringing them up in front of her chest. In one smooth movement, her hands separated, dropping and lifting again on either side of her in wide arcs.
Shadows spilled off her body like a flood, all of them in the shape of crows. They washed over the room, and Kaz could have sworn he heard their caws and flapping wings. The biggest shock for the crowd, though, was that the young Shadow Summoner had disappeared. The crow shadows remained, circling, clustering, flying about.
