Long ago, he would have delighted in the carnage; it reminded him of when he sewed poison into his first victim under Vanyusha’s tutelage. But now he struggled to even pay attention. Perhaps Seona’s reluctance sucked the passion out of the scene, or maybe all the death he’d witnessed under Vanyusha had dulled him. Seona’s lack of passion was disappointing, but he didn’t care as long as she carried out his orders without resistance.
When she took the blade without protest, something told him resistance would no longer be an issue.
Oh, but he could do without the chatter. There was no need to console the brat – he was a target, nothing more. Though Eltana had to admit her words had some truth to them. Rage was powerful. He wouldn’t be where he was today without the rage he felt in his childhood. His rage pushed him forward, and it turned to ecstasy as he crushed those who stood in his way. But as he watched Seona tear into the boy, Eltana knew that his passion was gone. The art that had given him his first taste of power had become nothing more than a means to an end.
Sad but inevitable. Eltana knew all life’s passions became dull after a while, but as long as he lived comfortably it didn’t matter. Unlike this boy, he didn’t have to worry about how he was going to survive on the streets tomorrow. Speaking of the brat, it was about time for Narain to send him back to whatever gutter he came from.
Eltana glanced at Narain once Seona stepped aside. “Clean up the boy and drop him off somewhere, I don’t care where,” he said, then looked to Seona. “You’re dismissed. Just don’t drip any blood on my carpet when you go upstairs, understood?”Statistics: Posted by Eltana Remathia — Sat May 18, 2013 11:38 am
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