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“Why did it have to be us?" Raziel said. "It is always us," Alicia replied after a moment. "Every hardship is borne by us. If it wasn't you and I, it would be someone else, but it would still be us. Humanity, cursed with the burden of suffering, blessed with the very same. That is life, and we will always bear that burden, us humans. It will be heavier at times, more manageable at others, but it always falls to us to bear it.”

“If this was death, he wasn’t enjoying it. Pain played a dark melody through his soul, and he could barely think. Black and red was all he saw and felt, flashes of white joining the sharper bites of the ever-present agony. Drumbeats pounded to the rhythm of colour, a battle song to instil deep fear and even deeper trauma. His mind reeled, seeming to sink for minutes at a time, before resurfacing in flames. He supposed it might have been interesting from an observer’s point of view. But when pain and darkness was your very being, all you really wanted was for it to end.”

“They needed each other that in that moment. Two children cast in dire straits—opposite, yet so similar. Deep tragedy, near-complete amnesia, feelings of worthlessness, loneliness, and hatred eating both to the core, with no one on their side. In that moment, they discovered that they weren’t alone. That there was still hope. Still a chance for forgiveness.”

“The sword pierced the general’s neck before he registered the movement. “Just a child!” His mind screamed as the blade bit deeper. “Just a child!” The blade chinked against his spine, a sound he refused to accept, a sound he had heard too often not to recognise. “Just a child!” His sight faltered, disappeared, all life vanishing in one sharp spurt of pain. “Just a child!” as Raziel damned his soul to hell.”

“Raziel gripped the beast’s razor-sharp beak in one hand, slamming it to the earth and stepping on its throat, returning to the beasts above as he crushed it underneath his boot. Burning black ichor splashed across his face, but the stinging pain only made him fight harder. He roared and slashed out again and again, claws and feathers flicking about his face in a vile whirlwind.”

“She strode forward, steeling her tune against the terrible cries which threatened to tear her emotions from her and leave her half-conscious. Her torch was like a spear of light in the terrible shadow of the night. The men rallied about it, turning to fight the nightmares with renewed hope. Alicia stumbled on something. A sword. She bent and picked it up, and not a moment too soon.”

“Alicia watched in horror as the blood flew through the air, Raziel whipping like an eel around the soldiers. She could sense his emotions even without seeing his eyes. His hatred and anger were strong. She could feel it like a wind, buffeting at her mind. At the same time, it was like a wild tune, fast-paced, loud, drowning out all else. It was more powerful than the fear of all the soldiers combined, and she sank to the ground as her own emotions woke and intensified into a drunken clamour.”

“What is a warchild, you ask? Some say they are human, other ‘witnesses’ call them horrendous demons. That they wield great power is undeniable. They master the very thing that makes us who we are: emotion. Love, hatred, terror, anguish, humour, sadness, joy . . . all these and a hundred more, a thousand. Imagine a thing, a creature that could take them from you, leaving you as an empty husk, able to think, but having no will to act. No will to resist. “That, my emperor, is a warchild.”

“She was beautiful beyond words, but not only that. Saranna was sharp as a knife. She'd have you guessing what you had said, then have you say it again in completely the opposite way, till you had made such a mess you didn't know what the discussion was about in the first place. Many found this unladylike, but only because they couldn't win against her. All except me. We would spar with words as men did with swords." ~ Velran”