[ The premonition transpires in an instant, and yet Sylvain emerges from it feeling the full weight of it, flinching away from Dimitri with a guttural hiss. There's a gnawing hunger in his belly, the ache of half a dozen festering wounds, fading whispers of voices that scratch at his consciousness like a burrowing creature.
His hand drifts to his face, feeling over his eye socket and surprised to find it filled. He can still smell the putrid stench of blood and mangled entrails, musty furs and unkempt armor.
Treason, destitution, madness, retribution.
Sylvain wonders how anyone might stay intact bearing the emotions that quake through him, clogs up his chest and pounds in his skull. His pulse rises, a cold anger burning in his veins. The feeling of betrayal lingers, materializes at the corners of his peripheral in the suggestions of human form. ]
No.
[ Whatever he'd just witnessed, he can't accept it. Not Dimitri. He's trembling as he places his hands on Dimitri's shoulders, on his cheeks, trying to substantiate their reality. (He thinks distantly of Felix's words—his warnings, and still he cannot bring himself to believe that this is the future awaiting them.) ]
That can't be real.
[ His voice is hoarse, and he feels so utterly powerless it's astonishing he's still standing at all. ]
no subject
His hand drifts to his face, feeling over his eye socket and surprised to find it filled. He can still smell the putrid stench of blood and mangled entrails, musty furs and unkempt armor.
Treason, destitution, madness, retribution.
Sylvain wonders how anyone might stay intact bearing the emotions that quake through him, clogs up his chest and pounds in his skull. His pulse rises, a cold anger burning in his veins. The feeling of betrayal lingers, materializes at the corners of his peripheral in the suggestions of human form. ]
No.
[ Whatever he'd just witnessed, he can't accept it. Not Dimitri. He's trembling as he places his hands on Dimitri's shoulders, on his cheeks, trying to substantiate their reality. (He thinks distantly of Felix's words—his warnings, and still he cannot bring himself to believe that this is the future awaiting them.) ]
That can't be real.
[ His voice is hoarse, and he feels so utterly powerless it's astonishing he's still standing at all. ]