↳ ❝ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 ... 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒. ❞
The caverns of her dark soul were built from shards of shattered glass; each a testament to the labyrinth of trauma she has truly...
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
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"𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇?" 𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐇 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 hesitancy, watching Finnick's face which maintained an expression of sheer confusion. "As in the famous Plinth family fortune?" She adds with urgency, eyes watering as they falter slightly before Finnick's stern gaze.
The boy's eyes were still fixed on the concealed piece of paper in his grip, which depicted a typed account of Khairiah's family. It included her mother's side, which dated back several decades – even through the Dark Days, which was a time that did not offer much physical account.
Finnick's fingers delicately traced the names, each stroke echoing the whispers of Khairiah's familial past – but his eyes were forever drawn to one specific surname; the one of the House of Plinth. It lay there like an anomaly; a name she had surely never encountered nor heard of considering her face portrayed everything that encapsulated genuine bafflement. Unbeknownst to Khairiah, this was not a mere last name – it was so much more, and Finnick feared for the girl before him.
"Odair? Can you help me make sense of this I don't understand–" She quietly insists, growing more and more anxious with each passing moment that he did not spare her an adequate answer.
His eyes, dark and searching, held a knowledge that danced between caution and concern. He knew the gravity of this revelation, and he was well aware that the name Plinth was not simply a mere addition to her family tree, but instead a harbinger of unforeseen danger; an ominous thread woven into the fabric of her vitality.
Khairiah's chest tightened with each passing moment, and the weight of disclosure settled upon her shoulders like a leaden cloak of darkness. Her breath caught in her throat, and she watched as the parchment shook ever so slightly under the air conditioning of the vault.
