Nyanfood

"You came here in the end, Perfect Prophet." he said, wielding a voice of blue flames. The white clothes he wore had no substance to them. What was substance but a concept there in the heart of the Library? The Garden of Thought. The bowels of Mimir's domain. Casually, he sat upon the left arm of her marble throne. "Even though you refused so adamantly the day he tied your blood to him." She was as still as a doll on that cold seat of power. Stone shackles and stone chains around her wrists and ankles held her prisoner, though now it was merely a weight, a reminder, for where would she run, exactly? The white bandages around her eyes. The si