RAIDREN YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WATCH SUPERNATURAL EVER AGAIN. I REALLY DON'T APPRECIATE IT WHEN MY MAIN CHARACTER STARTS CHANNELING DEAN WINCHESTER. What's next, are you going to fuck an angel to sparkly music while scarfing down a gigantic sandwich, all the while chewing with your mouth open?
You make me sick. I'm embarrassed to be your author.
...
♥
Spoilers: Raidaren is the Michael Sword. :[
"Raidaren," he called in a shouted whisper. "We should seek out help for this. What is the name of that witch whom sold you your amulet?"
"Le'driea," he said. He paused then, thinking, remembering. The witch had been a blunt woman, and a forward one at that. It was probably better that he told Zaide the truth now before she came out with it at the wrong time and caught them both off their guards. "She didn't sell it to me. She gave it to me."
"She did create it, though," Zaide said, as though to confirm.
"Yeah, of course," Raidaren said. "I watched her do it."
"And so she merely handed it over?" Zaide asked.
"Well," Raidaren whispered back loudly. "No. I slept with her for it."
Disgust and horror spread across the necromancer's face. Embarrassment touched at Raidaren's cheeks then. Maybe this hadn't been the best time to bring it up, but he had the distinct feeling that it was now or never; likely he would forget once they were on the road, and only remember once the witch's shack was back in plain view. By then it would be too late.
"So you truly are a whore," Zaide said flatly. "You give your body in exchange for something of value."
"If you want to look at it that way," Raidaren said. He hesitated then, thinking, but there was really no defense for himself that came to mind. "Yeah. I guess so."
"Go, Raidaren," Zaide said, brushing him off. "We have no time for this."
You make me sick. I'm embarrassed to be your author.
...
Spoilers: Raidaren is the Michael Sword. :[
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