(Note: This will be the last non-Mystical Unicorn musing)
Ilyana rubbed shoulders with Isabella, guiding her to the right where an entrance climbed down, deeper down into the cavern complex. Before them gleamed 12 silver thrones, “the last devices our family owned,” she mused.
“This? The 12 Thrones of Vesper? Where the 12 once sat in judgement over us, the Children of Hecate?”
“The very seats that supported their holier-than-thou asses.”
“Did you incinerate them?”
“A few,” Ilyana said, hands on her hips, remembering the screams as only a cold psychopath could. “Others I banked in large clay vessels. We need that royal sanguine for the hardships ahead. Isabella, I may be murderous, but I’m not completely heinous.”
Isabella let that one hang for a bit as she inspected the impossible detail on the arms of each chair. Doubtlessly the scrolling, the designs all had something to do with the council…
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