Puppets Without A String
Raising an eyebrow, he looked at the two creatures in front of him, free now that their master was dead.
"Still alive, I see."
"I have my heart."
She smiled. She had always been easy to understand, the wind demon. Fear. Hatred. Longing.
The other one, the one with the body of a child and eyes that reflected either emptiness or eternity, or perhaps both, was a different matter. Her eyes never betrayed her like her sister. What she thought and wanted was a mystery.
She reminded him of himself.
"Nothingness cannot be destroyed."
Her voice was only a whisper.