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A howling wind whipped her long golden locks into her face. Pushing her hair behind her ears, she caressed the golden rope bound tightly around her head.
Upon a great precipice, a mile from the gates of Algar, she stared at The Ragnon. The beast had been loosed on her countless times. It will teach you calm, Corvus would say. It will teach you focus, he’d add, as he watched the hulk push the young gods to their limits. Slowly they learned the truth of its power.
It took Phray the longest to understand The Ragnon. She was headstrong, stubborn and unyielding. As her power grew, so did her pride. At every turn The Ragnon bested her, even as her power grew. When her disdain for the beast turned her pride to anger, and anger to madness - the youngest of them reminded her of one truth. We all did our very best against him on the first day.
“The first time he bested you, he was still an infant in his father’s eyes,” said Phray. “Only with what you were born with may you beat him he’d say,” she said thinking of Black Dawn’s words. “I know you miss him as I do.”
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