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http://bit.ly/2CVmxspcaffeinewitchcraft:
writing-prompt-s:
You are the wind’s interpreter. What’s it saying?
Tell Miles, the wind whispers, that he’s a little bitch.
It’s only through years of long practice that Dyta’s able to keep a straight face. The King’s name is Miles? Everyone just sort of assumed he was named after his great grandfather, King Raymus since that’s what he’s written all over the kingdom. She tries to remember if she’s ever heard of a Prince Miles–
“Well?” King Raymus (Miles) asks. He looks down his nose at Dyta, thin lips thinning further. His knuckles are white around his gaudy scepter. “What did the Wind say? Will my reign be remembered? Am I truly the greatest King across the six kingdoms?”
There’re actually 208 kingdoms, the wind hisses out from underneath the door. Which Miles would know if he weren’t a little bitch.
“Yes,” Dyta blurts out. The guards’ glares have been growing each moment she’s been silent and she’s not interested in finding out at what point they use the spears they’re holding. “Super remembered.” She brings her hands up, trying to gesture just how remembered the King is, but the shackles around her wrists hinder the movement. “The wind knows your truth, King Raymus, and it spreads that truth across the globe.”
You never interpret correctly, the wind whines through the gaps in the stone walls. You are the worst wind-speaker I’ve met in centuries.
Dyta’s the only wind-speaker in centuries. That’s why she’s in this whole prisoner mess to begin with. It’s just luck that King Mi-Raymus is vain enough to spend the majority of her captivity asking after what the world thinks of him.
There are much worse applications of her ability. Spying, for example. And assassination, though she tends to stay away from that one, much to the wind’s chagrin.
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