Lonan The Rebellious
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Lonan The Rebellious
@InputReading
“We hear her voice in the pounding of our own pulse, in the cry of the raven, and in the wild wind.”

“I think the best way to understand it is to see it for yourself,” Ruby suggested. She could have explained the Arcadion in detail, but some things were better experienced firsthand than described. “You can watch a few matches, get a feel for how everything works, and see the kinds of fighters who compete there.” A faint smile crossed her lips. “It’ll probably answer your questions better than I can.” With that, she began walking toward the Arcadion, motioning for Lonan to follow. The massive structure loomed in the distance, impossible to miss among Alexandria’s skyline. As they walked, she listened to him speak about the people he had encountered on his travels. The amusement in her expression faded into something more thoughtful. “Those kinds of people always seem to follow the same pattern,” she said. “They cling to power because they’re afraid of losing it. And the harder they cling, the harder they fall.” Her gaze drifted ahead. “Alexandria had a king like that once.” She shrugged lightly, as though the conclusion spoke for itself. “He’s dead now.” A small glance was cast in Lonan’s direction. “So I’d say your theory has a pretty good track record.”

There’s a slow nod as she makes another attempt to pronounce his name in a small whisper ; her pronunciation much better this time. She stumbles backwards a bit, trying to keep her distance—𝙉𝙤 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙. »

His praise brought a mischievous smile to her lips. It seemed he knew the key to her heart. “I shall expect more offerings from you,” Joanna said, drawing him closer. “And if you comply, I just might reward you.”


Oh, she’s only acting like this because, where she comes from, Gods are the top of the classes ; higher than regular Kings! And, well, she’s just an Apple ; a cupbearer! The smallest hint of a scared and tragic smile appears upon pale features as she slowly dares to rise to »

the velvet───draped dining room played host to a most unholy afternoon tea. across the sprawling expanse of a deep emerald tablecloth, they sat entombed in a contractual arrangement. what a way to their

“The Stranger is but another name for Death, my dear,” Joanna retorts, as she scoots closer to his side. The summer wind catches her wimple, slightly pulling back the white linen to expose the golden tresses that dared peek +


