Waiting

[coloroftrust]

Fiorn is not a fidgeter. He does not get anxious, he barely even feels the pressure that some people would crack under. No, he is as cool and calm as someone who cannot touch the Source can make himself.
Right now, he is pacing the floor of the hotel room, looking at the telephone and waiting for it to ring. Calah should have called him at

Comments

[teach_them_all]

A silvery line split the air and spun open to a Gateway. Mesaana stepped through into the room. The portal snapped shut behind her. A look of icy contempt and rage warred with calm on her face. Her fists clenched white-knuckled as she glared daggers at Fiorn.

"Fiorn A'Nazaal."

[coloroftrust]

Fiorn steps backward, watching the gateway open a hand's width away. Any closer and he would have been cut in half.

"My...my Great Mistress," he doesn't usually falter, but this time he cannot disguise the tremor in his voice.

[teach_them_all]

A look of utter disdain as she stretched out her hand. Flows of air slamming Fiorn violently against the wall. Her voice an icy snap.

"That is not something that you can call me anymore, Tse'a."

A pause as the flows of air threatened to crush him.

"I know of your dealings, your treacheries."

[coloroftrust]

He's pressed against the wall, struggling against nothing, but when he hears the words from his Mistress...he stops fighting.

Tse'a, he wouldn't even refer to his wife in those terms.

She knows and does not forgive

"I never betrayed you, Great Mistress. N-n-never you." He gasps as the breath rushes out of him. He sees spots in front of his eyes, his ribs creaking under the pressure.

"She was never yours. She was working for others. Not me, I look out for you, my Mistress, my Lady. You need me," he tries to get out, each word a battle.