Long, mahogany hair fluttered slightly in the wind as the solitary figure sat solemnly atop the single, barren, hill, black eyes watching the sunset, full of sorrow. It wasn’t as if she’d been able to do anything to stop the much too apparent genocide that’d taken place mere hours ago. It wasn’t as if she’d wanted to stop it in the first place. They’d brought it upon themselves, though, hadn’t they? They had, in all truths, been the ones to instigate it all. Was it bad that she only felt sorrow for herself and not them? Of course it wasn’t. She was always right, wasn’t she? She was the Diienna, after all. That had to have some significance.
The silent female jumped slightly as an arm was suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to the male who’d snuck up on her. Black eyes closed slightly as she realized whom the person was, leaning into his chest comfortably, showing the faintest glimmer of a smile on her blood-streaked face. A blood-coated hand met one of his, fingers entwining together almost subconsciously. She closed her eyes; perfectly content listening to his heart beat.
“Something up, Amb?” He asked softly, running his free hand through her hair, pulling her closer so she was almost in his lap. “You seem a little off, babe.”
“Eh, it’s nothing…” She replied simply, eyes still closed a she shifted ever so slightly so she sat completely on his lap, her back pressed against his chest. She sighed softly, one hand still clasping his, the other placed lightly on his thigh. “I guess I kind of expected them to…put up more of a fight, you know? I’m just frustrated.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I know it’s a disappointment. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” Soft, comforting words were whispered into her ear before soft lips were pressed to the base of her neck, placing a light, chaste kiss on the flesh.
Darkness surrounded her. She couldn’t breathe- there was no air. No oxygen getting to her lungs, she was going to die. She felt so…so…so cold. She couldn’t die yet; she hadn’t gotten her revenge yet! She still had to kill that b*****d, the one who’d raised her only so he could have a weapon to manipulate so he could become even more powerful.
Screams ripped through the silence, full of rage, pain, agony...She wasn’t going to die! She wasn’t going to let herself be taken over, like some pathetic weakling who couldn’t fend for themselves! She was the Diienna, for crying out loud! She was the Wyvern, the sign of destruction, the symbol of the end of the reign of those gods and the beginning of the reign of the great Goddess, the Goddess of Destruction! She refused to let herself be taken over like this!
