[Hayame is powerful. She knew that. She had always relied on that. Where some mountain breeds of jinba might outclass her in pure muscle, some field jinba in the swiftness of their hooves, she herself was an even balance between strength and speed, force and delicateness. And above all else... she knew that even if some jinba might be able to best her, a human never should have been able to.
Not until Horos. Until Kenos. Until magic, that she did not understand and could not defend against, something that could render that strength meaningless. She did not "hate" magic- No. She feared it... and hate was a convenient cover. But magic now shatters mirrors as easily as her own strikes had, and all with a snap.
... Was that it? There is a moment when the voice is silent, and Hayame meets Akua's eyes, her own unsettled state obvious beneath the veneer of readiness until-
Of course it is.
The voice returns, cold and judgemental, from other mirrors, the shadow of a centaur pacing around the pair reflecting in surface after surface.
The strong should need no one but themselves.
And though that might be for the both of them... the next is more of a whisper, more for Hayame herself, the voice growing vicious as it reveals the words to be an insult rather than a genuine belief.
Isn't that why you abandoned your own blood brother and denied his aid? Isn't that why you refused to let those free jinba "trick you", with their pathetic little offers of a home?
The sound of a bowstring drawing echoes in the dark and cold glow.
Isn't that why you didn't tell the man you wanted to love you that you betrayed him?
Hayame's own arrows shatter mirror after mirror, a snarl of denial ripped from her throat but weakened by how she can't actually... she can't actually call it a lie. But the words hurt more than the icy arrow from the doppelganger that embeds itself in her rump.]
no subject
Not until Horos. Until Kenos. Until magic, that she did not understand and could not defend against, something that could render that strength meaningless. She did not "hate" magic- No. She feared it... and hate was a convenient cover. But magic now shatters mirrors as easily as her own strikes had, and all with a snap.
... Was that it? There is a moment when the voice is silent, and Hayame meets Akua's eyes, her own unsettled state obvious beneath the veneer of readiness until-
Of course it is.
The voice returns, cold and judgemental, from other mirrors, the shadow of a centaur pacing around the pair reflecting in surface after surface.
The strong should need no one but themselves.
And though that might be for the both of them... the next is more of a whisper, more for Hayame herself, the voice growing vicious as it reveals the words to be an insult rather than a genuine belief.
Isn't that why you abandoned your own blood brother and denied his aid? Isn't that why you refused to let those free jinba "trick you", with their pathetic little offers of a home?
The sound of a bowstring drawing echoes in the dark and cold glow.
Isn't that why you didn't tell the man you wanted to love you that you betrayed him?
Hayame's own arrows shatter mirror after mirror, a snarl of denial ripped from her throat but weakened by how she can't actually... she can't actually call it a lie. But the words hurt more than the icy arrow from the doppelganger that embeds itself in her rump.]