The quiet returns to her, brow furrowed and eyes narrow with thought.
She wonders what she means by that.
Zay almost reaches out to grasp Eris’ arm with care, to draw her from the daze she seemed trapped in. But she refrains from laying a hand upon her when she drew close again, staring intently.
There was no intent to leave now.
“Eris… A beginning to what?”
Regardless of Zay’s intent, Eris draws back before she can touch.
She does not like to be touched.
the name is rasped out from her lips, the black blood, the ink seeping from her empty eyes down her cheeks, tracing the shape of her curved jawline.
“He lives, still. The fight.. is not yet over.”
Crota’s end was but a chapter in a larger book. And her chapter-- hers is over, she thinks.
Why do you hold all these secrets like weapons, to damn us all?
Because they are weapons. And we are going to use them to show hive they are not the only ones who breed fear.
They need-- oh yes, they need...
And how do you know this?
She watched them all die. She saw it with her own eyes before they were taken away. Except for one.
What if she was not the only one who escaped? Not the only one tormented with such a fate? She never saw him again in the end of it all, but she never watched him die, never heard the screams. Perhaps..
She breaks from her trance.
“The fight is not over. It will get worse from here.
But I have... faith.”
