Finally, one of the follow-ups after this. I am really sorry for the hiatus between up-dates, I have several other wrap-ups I'm hoping to post these days. I wish I could make a more decent doll but, time won't allow it. Now, the story, hope you enjoy. Cyrus belongs to @2BlueWizards Story continues here #TwilightRealm#Story
Probably shouldn't be laughing because Cyrus really is quite a sad character, but I just appreciate this turn of fate. Ah...I might have to write something for him later.
Lol poor Cyrus. XD I doubt laundry duty will suit him. I really love the blood sword Marcellus has in this doll, very cool. It's nice to see that Cyrus's story is being developed, since I haven't worked on him a lot myself. As always, this was an exciting chapter and I loved the ending--ominous and promising :D
Marcellus stared into the darkness beyond candle light. The curtain hung low, the moon hung low. "Ilidaresha (daughter of queen/princess), is it the years that has dulled your skills, or your pathetic inclination towards the worms of the mortals has weakened your heart. You are such a fool, Alinna, those who share not our blood share not our purpose. Such power is a waste on you. But don't you worry, it will be no more. Strong one takes the crown."
"Chikara, how was the dual tonight." The man in the bathtub reached out to grab her chin, making her to look up. "My lord has won." The woman answered calmly. "You dare lie to me!" His lips spoke anger but not his tongue. "I do not dare, my lord, but it was you who dominated the battle. You forced her into the moves you wanted." Chikara continued her task in her rippleless manner, just like that dark deep pool. "Nothing escapes your eyes, Chikara."
"The medic has taken good care of them, they will recover in no time." The woman answered while gently rubbing on a dried blood stain. "A good news, how about Cyrus?" "He has reported to Palil Maximian. Palil Maximian has sent him to the laundry, there time for him to reflect on his misconduct will be aplenty." "Laundry, really?" Marcellus chucked, "Cyrus, he will never be free from his past." "My lord indeed favours him." The woman offered a knowing smile.
Later in the night. Marcellus sank in the warm water of a bathtub, head reclined, a satisfying sigh slipped between his lips. The room was flickered with candle light, beside that was a gramophone, its nostalgia tenor of 'O Sole Mio' resonated in the space. A woman of grey black hair was kneeing beside the bathtub, a sponge in her hand. She catered carefully to every 'trophy' from the battle on his skin. "Chikara, how are the wounded." Asked the superior Damian.
