The ancient artifact, thousands of years old and of untold surface value being not only from a time and era of immense interest but also made entirely of gold, not to mention value in the terms of sheer raw power that flowed through it and allowed the wearer knowledge of things not meant to be perceived, flew across the room, gold catching the light and reflecting its glow in a thousand shattered particles, shadows wailing behind it, unable to deter its fated meeting with the wall at the high speed at which it was torn from a pale neck and thrown.
A hand reached out and caught it. There were now two people in the room where before there had only been one and the female who had done the original throwing turned on the necklace's savior and yelled.
"Why don't you let it hit the wall? Why do you always catch it? I hate it! I hate it and I want it to hit the wall! I want it to know exactly how I feel about what it shows me!" Her foot hit the floor hard and she began to pace, continuing to rail against the object the man held. "I hate it and I hate what it shows me and I hate this airship and the stupid game and what its... cohort has done to my brother!"
The woman shook, her fists clenching and unclenching as the bottled emotions were released until she stopped dead in the center of the room addressed the ceiling.
"And I hate that I have to watch him be practically torn apart and can't do a damned thing about it!"
Her screamed words echoed around them and left only silence and the sounds of Isis's heavy breathing in their wake as she struggled to catch her breath, winded from throwing everything she had, anger, rage, frustration and too much built up energy from sitting and waiting, into the shout.
She calmed, her shoulders relaxed, and she rubbed at her palms where her nails had bit into them, leaving small, half crescent red marks that stung. He handed the necklace back and she took it, a small bit of red in face showing embarrassment at the outburst.
"I... I'm sorry. Thank you," she whispered but he was already gone and she refastened the clasp around her neck, adjusting the eye so that it settled into its familiar place in the hollow of her throat.
The familiar action helped her collect the scattered bits of remaining emotion and tuck them carefully away again and she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin and opened the door. Pride and determination returned to her features and she would prove, even just to herself now because now he was gone and was never really there, that she wasn't just the typical pile of emotions that sometimes came with being female, that she was stronger than that. She would do what had to be done. She would play her part and work to save her brother from himself.
She just wished the former priest would pop in at moments like these when she was cool and collected and not in the rare times when the things the artifact showed her sent her made her curse it and her duty. Perhaps she should try threatening the item again when she wasn't angry just to see if she could summon him.
Yes. That would make for a very interesting experiment indeed.