In that moment, fear was something shortlived in Jocelyn. Just as the creature reached through the portal to grab her wrist, Azazeal’s arm snaked out and clutched her sharply back against his chest. The Demons, like the Fae it seemed, were prone to factional conflicts of one kind or another.
When Azazeal spoke in the Angelic tongue, Jocelyn recognised it immediately. It was a different dialect, quite similar to the Enochian and the Sidhe that her mother and Amarante’ had been teaching her. The words were indeed a curse, a curse intended to stun but not to kill. The being was sent reeling back in a flash and there was a strong scent of sulphur and other equally noxious things that should not have been a part of the very imagery that had appeared before them just moments before.
At Azazeal’s prompting she pulled a little away and took the same conjuring knife and closed the doorway she had cut into that realm. There was a feeling of exhileration if not just a little overconfidence within her. Just before the portal snapped shut, Jocelyn too cursed in Enochian, “I am no one’s toy!” she shouted. The words on their own sent the Creature back even further and caused it to moan aloud. In another flash of blue light the portal was gone and no evidence of what had happened remained except the slight twinge in the air of sulphur.
It was at this moment she realised that Azazeal’s arm still encircled her waist loosely. Slowly she turned to face him. He did not let go, nor did he step back and in the space of time that it took for her to take two breaths she realised that she was staring up into those blue eyes and her pulse was racing. Jocelyn spoke softly in Sidhe, “Mae govannen, Azazeal. Mae govannen.”
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Date: 2009-04-20 11:23 pm (UTC)When Azazeal spoke in the Angelic tongue, Jocelyn recognised it immediately. It was a different dialect, quite similar to the Enochian and the Sidhe that her mother and Amarante’ had been teaching her. The words were indeed a curse, a curse intended to stun but not to kill. The being was sent reeling back in a flash and there was a strong scent of sulphur and other equally noxious things that should not have been a part of the very imagery that had appeared before them just moments before.
At Azazeal’s prompting she pulled a little away and took the same conjuring knife and closed the doorway she had cut into that realm. There was a feeling of exhileration if not just a little overconfidence within her. Just before the portal snapped shut, Jocelyn too cursed in Enochian, “I am no one’s toy!” she shouted. The words on their own sent the Creature back even further and caused it to moan aloud. In another flash of blue light the portal was gone and no evidence of what had happened remained except the slight twinge in the air of sulphur.
It was at this moment she realised that Azazeal’s arm still encircled her waist loosely. Slowly she turned to face him. He did not let go, nor did he step back and in the space of time that it took for her to take two breaths she realised that she was staring up into those blue eyes and her pulse was racing. Jocelyn spoke softly in Sidhe, “Mae govannen, Azazeal. Mae govannen.”