xx. divided (pt 2)

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Years ago, before she came into the service of the human king, Cyrenne used to see herself as a prophet

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Years ago, before she came into the service of the human king, Cyrenne used to see herself as a prophet.

When she was thirteen, a curse was laid upon her for betraying her kind and running away to dwell in the human lands. She began to hear a voice in her head. Cruel and cunning, sweet like syrup, destructive as it was healing. Omnipotent. It told her undreamable things, things of the future and of the past which no one has ever known. 

"But that voice... it came at a price I could never hope to pay. At the price of countless lives which I have loved. And at the price of my own."

"How do you mean?" asked Auran as he leaned in closer to the fire, his sickly thin fingers drawing nearer to the warmth.

 "The voice holds much more power than just words of unlimited knowledge. If I do not act as she commands... Then there is always much more collateral damage than there would have been otherwise. The curse is inescapable," Cyrenne drew her lips into a thin line, like a smile of innermost sadness, as she gazed up at Auran. Theodan sat watching her from across the fire, but she did not look at him. She never could in moments like that. 

"So... What you are doing now, trying to stop the vultures... it is all because of what the voice tells you? If she knows so much, why not tell you how to destroy them without wiping out our entire race? Why not tell you that they cannot be killed without all of us dying in the first place?" 

Cyrenne knew from the beginning, when she first saw Auran, that he did not belong in this war. He was too different, too detached from what either side had to offer. He had nothing to gain from the destruction of the vultures, or from their victory. She knew, that he was just a boy. 

But he was the key. To everything. Victory and loss. Destruction and salvation. And the fact that the vultures had not seen that made him all the more valuable. He was only one who could open the tomb of the First Witch, Yala had told her, but she knew, as Cyrenne did, that his value lay far beyond that. 

"I cannot know what her motives are. And yet, I recognize that this is something which has to be done. We will find a way to banish the vultures once again. Or get rid of them without harming the race of witches. I have lost more than anyone fighting for this cause, and even if the voice abandoned me now, then I would still see it through." 

"You are so sure the destruction of the vultures will ensure good?" asked Auran, eyes narrowed at her golden locks playing with the shades of the fire. She knew that he was almost convinced. If anyone hated the vultures more than the voice in her head, it was Auran. 

"When they came, eons ago, they brought nothing but destruction. They might have helped create our race, but at our very birth, we were forced into the bloodiest war this world had ever seen. And when we won it, they did not care for our safety. They did what they wanted because they could. If the Gods of Abyss had not stopped them in time, we would not be sitting here today, Auran."

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