"She was darkness and death moulded into the perfect form for him. For him. She was the darkness that was unending and unforgiving, unforgotten and unbinding."
Ember Avilon. Warrior of the night. Slaughterer of kingdoms. Her name was known but forgo...
AN : Hi Guys! After my writers block on the last chapter I hopefully will be able to do some more chapters as I am also off school at the moment aswell :)
Also, this is kind of how I picture Ember just through Picrew lol - you can obvs imagine her how you would like.
I might try and get an Art breeder illustration as well :))
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Hope you enjoy :)
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TW : Descriptions of Gore and Bad Language
Chapter 7 | Alone is Best
Ember
Silence.
Again.
Her footsteps were deathly as she floated back to - what her room?
She didn't really know.
The previous conversation had stunned her a bit, and she thought heavily as she made her way from the top of the stairs across that dimly lit hallway.
She had always suspected Rhys had made such promise, but the fact that he knew about them - her and Keir, and clearly didn't try hard enough to try and find them ; that broke her soul.
The fact that he knew her father was probably going to die when he left Velaris - her mother too.
And also the fact that one of the reasons they are dead is because of their loyalty to him.
She knew it was potentially unfair to blame it all on the High Lord - it was 500 years ago now.
But the pain of earning the loss of her family and soul in that camp, in Hybern - it was enough for her to hold onto that hatred.
She didn't care.
A growl from her stomach caused Ember to huff.
Still hungry.
Opting out of going back down the stairs to where Rhys, the general and him were, she moved into the dining room to scour for something.
