Desreal: make-up stories and false hopes ;

Hypatia never asked for awe, never asked for glory. Solira had chosen her, and she had not wanted it; Fei had begged her, and only then, when she felt the heat of the desert and the smiling stare of her friend, did she take the Diadem. Most think Oracles are some perfect beings, something held above and beyond; Queens and Kings are sometimes held there; and the Relics bring awe and wonder. She had never asked for it. She never accepted it. She knew she was flawed.

Centurion speaks, except it is not Centurion that answers her. Pet? Kail’s mind is a flurry of anger, and he turns from the Keeper to look up at Centurion. His familiar has left him, Hypatia. Kail had thought that his bird was alright, that perhaps he would be like the bird-stallion that was Hypatia’s student. But this stallion here, he is weak and fragile, and broken now.

Hypatia’s black eyes are glass; they reflect nothing but the tar that now leaks from the darkness of her eyes. Her mind is simply numb with this exhaustion, this anger that is overwhelming her entire body. Centurion should be Centurion. He shouldn’t be affected. He should be fine. He should be laughing and pretending to be alright even though she could see right through him. He should be fine.

Pirate, why isn’t he fine? Hypatia grasps at the darkness again, as more of her friends, her companions, seem to slip from her grasp.

The Naphtha does not understand why Centurion speaks to her so. Not in the arrogant way that some royalty possess, but in uncomprehension. When had she ordered him around? She wanted the exact opposite from her people. She wanted none of them to hold her on a pedestal. She wanted them to see how flawed she was, how imperfect. She wanted them to see that she would be nothing without them. Centurion failed…No, she failed him.

A fiery circle appears around Centurion in an instant. It does not matter how much he struggles, he cannot move. It does not matter how much he strains to see, he cannot see the ring of flame that now holds him tight. “Saphira, this is not concern you. I will keep my word. I will do nothing to him.” She could, but he would destroy Ni’Srilan with the Diadem. It bleeds Water down her face, melting with the tar that her pores leak.

“Centurion,” His name is much like Saphira’s Siren Song, in the sense that he must answer her, he must obey her command now. He must tell the truth. “What did I do wrong?”

Pirate, what did I do wrong?

A falcon to her right turns into a stallion, but it is only something she can see. Her eyes are wide, but the Circle of Fire does not disappear. “It wasn’t you, Hypatia.” His voice is so soothing, that she almost believes him. “You can’t protect them forever.”

“NO!” She refuses to believe him. Fire spins from her body, burning the earth around her. You’re wrong. It’s my fault. It’s my fault. I just want to keep them safe.

Again, the Naphtha turns to Centurion and asks. Struggle, she thinks, I want to see your pain now. I want to make you burn alive.

“Do you know what you will do now?” But Hypatia has plans, and the things is, her face is clean, her body does not betray it. They cannot read her minds.

The Circle of Fire draws closer to Centurion, pressing upon him. He will burn, but he will not see what it is that presses upon him. But the Fire drives her to know this stallion, more than his mind would have ever wanted. “Were you ever my friend?

Of course he was, ‘patia. He cared for you. Kail looks up at his familiar with pleading eyes, but the Fire, the knowledge has consumed her.

“Do any of them really?”