Immolatia's eyes flash a vivid red as she stares Carden down.
"Listen, I don't like you...and you probably don't like me. But none of us can do this alone. You agree, right?" She pauses to hold the small red crystal around the neck. One can detect a simmering anger in her voice, ready to explode at the slightest provocation...and yet, an iron will holds it in check. A dangerous combination.
"If we're going to win, we have to put aside emotion... Do what we have to do, to win. Maybe even survive. I'm not backing down from this. Are you?"
Immolatia waited for a response. She expected disapproval. Rejection. After all, Carden was everything she was not. Well adjusted. Happy. An unwounded soul.
They both drew power from the respective totems they wore around their necks. Hatred...Kindness. Bitterness...hope. Death...life.
Of all the apprentices, had she not felt a strange kinship with him? A desire to test her true self against his, and see which was better?
Immolatia was intrigued-which would last longer? Her grey, withered heart, a garden full of ashes? Or his bright, hopeful one, overgrowing with plenty?
"I need you...your not like me. Where I am broken, you are whole. My focus is narrow, and yours is wide. Where I am weak, you are strong.
And, you need me...for I will do the things you cannot bring yourself to do. I can spare you from them. I am many things...but I am not a monster, unless I have to be. I will relieve you of the burden of that choice. What do you say?"
The crystal burned. Not physically. It always felt like it was burning, times like this. Yet, Immolatia could never find the strength to remove it. She just twisted it around and around...over, and over again.
twist...twist...twist...