patient study

Walking along the rocky inlet of The Polar Sound, Sephiran is following the scent of a phantom.

That morning, Iscariot’s perfume suddenly reappeared within the territory, mingling with the briny scent of sea and pinewood. How long had it been since he last saw her? Weeks? Months? Seasons? Truthfully, Sephiran had been losing track of time- more often than not, he was teetering on the edge of psychosis, consumed by restless energy and lost in the labyrinth of his own, twisted mind. If it were not for Rhazien, Sephiran would be completely ungrounded by now, losing himself in his depravities. His Uncle was the only force keeping him at bay.

Rhazien’s influence was also Riot’s saving grace- if it had not been for his conversation with Sephiran, the Sultan would have met Iscariot with unrelenting, vicious violence, seeing her absence as a betrayal worthy of punishment. Do. Not. Exacerbate. Fragility.

Instead, he chooses to approach her with a look of disappointment, coming to stand beside her as she sits on her perch. He towers over her, exuding his usual air of dominance, commanding her attention and the visceral impulse to obey. He does not say anything yet- he simply waits, assessing for her reaction, to see if she has come to repent, or disobey.

"Speech"