[ Inancha can hardly hear her over the shrill echoes of the darkness surrounding them, of the scraping of her armor and the way her heart pounds through her ears. In the blind shroud that has taken over her, Inancha has become more aware of the deep cut in her side, beginning to feel weak and ill. Blood pools around her armor in each corner Khara's attacks have reached, and she is successfully taken by the Xaela's grasp. She roughly growls, teeth gritting hard enough to make her jaw sore. ]
[ The way her heart aches completely overtakes her, the frustration of it all only causing her to become angrier and pained. Blind eyes widen when she finally hears Khara speak-- I never should have left you. Claims of failure and Inancha's success in abandoning her Raen roots completely, only bearing an incorrect shade of horns and scales. ]
[ Slowly, ever so slowly, her eyesight begins to return. A blurred visual of their surroundings comes back, clearing when she turns her gaze to see the battered woman releasing her and clutching her blade. Inancha breaks away from her, stumbling far back and exhaling a harsh, raspy growl. It is clear that the battle will not end the way Inancha wishes, and she will return home empty-handed. She will fail. It adds to the anger, yet the idea of actually killing the woman before her seems less possible than success. It makes the idea of failure unimportant. ]
[ When her sight is clear, she furrows her brows at Khara, unaware of the way her eyes begin to well up and overflow with tears that mix with the blood curtaining her features. ]
You...
You--
[ Inancha stumbles again, feeling dizzy. It is clear that she has lost a lot of blood, wasted her reserve of aether. Her magic is rendered useless, and she tosses her staff to the ground. ]
--Doubted me! I am...
A trinket to you! To Bastian! My novelty was worn and you left me!
[ Raising her voice is difficult, and her voice cracks. Where words are always so hard to form in the first place, Inancha suffers in sharing the source of anger that fuels her now. ]
[ She gestures to herself, holding her arm out before pounding her palm at her chest hard. Metal gloves clanking upon a metal breastplate. ]
no subject
[ The way her heart aches completely overtakes her, the frustration of it all only causing her to become angrier and pained. Blind eyes widen when she finally hears Khara speak-- I never should have left you. Claims of failure and Inancha's success in abandoning her Raen roots completely, only bearing an incorrect shade of horns and scales. ]
[ Slowly, ever so slowly, her eyesight begins to return. A blurred visual of their surroundings comes back, clearing when she turns her gaze to see the battered woman releasing her and clutching her blade. Inancha breaks away from her, stumbling far back and exhaling a harsh, raspy growl. It is clear that the battle will not end the way Inancha wishes, and she will return home empty-handed. She will fail. It adds to the anger, yet the idea of actually killing the woman before her seems less possible than success. It makes the idea of failure unimportant. ]
[ When her sight is clear, she furrows her brows at Khara, unaware of the way her eyes begin to well up and overflow with tears that mix with the blood curtaining her features. ]
You...
You--
[ Inancha stumbles again, feeling dizzy. It is clear that she has lost a lot of blood, wasted her reserve of aether. Her magic is rendered useless, and she tosses her staff to the ground. ]
--Doubted me! I am...
A trinket to you! To Bastian! My novelty was worn and you left me!
[ Raising her voice is difficult, and her voice cracks. Where words are always so hard to form in the first place, Inancha suffers in sharing the source of anger that fuels her now. ]
[ She gestures to herself, holding her arm out before pounding her palm at her chest hard. Metal gloves clanking upon a metal breastplate. ]
I made my path! I... Wanted...
[ Inancha's expression tightens, lips quivering. ]
Respect.