Mother's Choice: 17+Burgeoning Genuine Friendship(10)+The Grand Plan(20)+Handmaiden Present(25)-Shattered Wards(15)-Exhaustion(10)+Lingering Ishan Compassion(15)+Reached The Gates(5)-Knowledge of Alyssa's Capabilities(20)-Threatened Daughter(35)+Protected By Terrors(10)+Armed Eldyra(15)=37/100)
You are a husband to a wonderful wife, father to a number of children, and have presided over family gatherings including a great many grandchildren. You have attended many meetings with family friends of two different provinces who have their own families. It is no idle boast to say that you are, perhaps, exceedingly well experienced and practiced in many such matters, though there is no such thing as perfect parenting for all children are destined to be their own people even if some pain is withstood in the course of it. But you aren't entirely sure you would need any of that to know what choice is going to be made in the next few seconds. You can see it in the bunching, the tensing of the body beneath armor and layers visible in its intensity, the grinding of metal caps and plates against each other as fists clench. Smell it in the air as Dhar does not simply waft but simply pours outwards from Hultressa to the point that it rapidly ceases to be discernable solely to those uniquely cursed and blessed with Witch Sight and outright becomes physically palpable and present in a scouring black event horizon, a corona, a halo, of pure crushed together Winds of Magic with a will and strength unknown to those without a certain sort of love in their hearts.
Hultressa raises her head, and deliberately looks away from Alyssa, which causes the Supreme Sorceress to tilt her head and scowl, and looks towards you.
Not Sadrina, who you suspect realizes what is about to happen.
Not Kerillian, who is still looking about so quickly around her that you think her neck is about to snap clean off.
To you.
She meets your gaze, and you meet hers, and you know. She knows you know.
You are a man of not inconsiderable intelligence. You are capable of multitudes, of complexities, of holding contradictory information and emotions within yourself simultaneously. So it is that you rage, you rage like you almost never have before, at what is to come. So close, now so far, denied with a goal in sight. You would spit fury, scream, curse, and more. But so too do you give the slightest of nods, and the most helpless of smiles beneath your helmet and armor. Because you know, and you understand on the most base and primal level, and on that level, you cannot help but approve. How could you not? After all that you've done, that members of your family have done, and friends as well? And so you rage, you laugh, and you can do nothing more than watch as that almost catastrophic upswell of power grows stronger and stronger until the stone around her begins to crack apart and even somewhat dissolve. Two more of the skulls on her face begins to crumble away into dissolving dust, but the clouds of particulate sparkle and shine before visibly flowing into Hultressa's body, absorbed at rapid pace.
"You will never have her."
It is a whisper that reaches far and wide