Lament of the Traitor King (Complete)

Chapter 45 - An Act of Willful Ignorance

"I still can't do anything."

They had gone out to the woods, alone, to see if there was any way that Netta could use magic. She had to admit that at this point, it seemed that it was as she had always feared. She did not seem to have any ability towards the use of offensive or defensive magic.

She may as well as been a human who was locked into a bizarre relationship with a -

Ashwood leaned against a tree, raising a black, winged eyebrow. That eyebrow cock normally would have infuriated Netta, if not for her state of mental shambles at that moment. "You ought to have more faith in your little insurance policy - by way of your old friend, Ash." He made a mock bow then, his hand extended.

Netta allowed herself a moment to look at him, watching as he raised his smiling, intimidating face back up. Dressed in a checked fleece long-sleeved shirt, Ash looked (almost) like a normal human. It helped, as well, that he was able to make his horns, those great, twisting masses on top of his head, not appear.

Ashwood - her old friend, and whatever he was to her, now - had horns. And what a set of bastardized antler they were. Shining black and wickedly sharp, they spired and shot in all sorts of maddening directions, like the inverted tendrils of great creeping vines.

It came as a shock to realize just how little she had known about him,. Where, after all, had this large form come from?

Since she had grown into a woman, she had never seen him with his deep honey-colored skin and this dark, brown hair. One thing that she could not remember him possessing were those massive horns that she saw at times, affixed firmly to his head.

When she saw his face tighten, as though in thought, she soon felt the whispering of his presence in her mind. She acted on impulse, slamming him out.

The shock of the action sent her staggering backwards until she almost tripped. Netta's arms wheeled out, spinning as she tried to regain her footing.

Ash was upon her in a heart beat, arm stuck out to catch her shoulder just as she regained her posture.

Netta turned towards him - as always, having to look up at him. A censorious look was on his face, surprising Netta in the blazing annoyance she saw.

She ripped herself away from him, stepping backwards, her gaze locked onto his face. Heart beating at the touch that was not in any way intentionally intimate, but nevertheless reminded Netta of rough tenderness.

Netta could not stop herself from trying to find rhyme or reason to the harshness in his features. The hard, chipping edges, the unhandsome amalgamation of his big nose, the inhuman burn of his deep-set - sunken, red - eyes, the cutting of lines into his face around the rough, dark facial hair. And then there was the perfectly even, straight rows of bone-white, sharp teeth.

What kind of a creature whose sole existence was for temptation looked so, well - unbecoming?

Forbidding?

He's lying to you. That thought came as it had often been doing recently. It burned in its truth that she could not make herself ignore. It became louder, every time she touched him to find burning heat in his skin. She looked into his eyes to find only further certainty that she was playing with fire.

Ash stared at her, annoyance and - pain? - in his gaze. Finally, he set his jaw, obviously clenching his teeth. "Is there something - some grievance - that you wish to share with me, Master?"

The way he said it, the sarcasm, the anger, still seemed to only be masking some deeper emotion. Nevertheless, it hurt. It shocked her to hear him refer to her by that title.