Chapter Text
Harrowhark woke, properly, screaming.
This was not her preferred way to start a day, but the moment her eyes opened she had no choice in the matter. Her mind rebelled against thoughts like ‘wash your face’ and 'stop screaming’ because her world was on fire. Riotous gold burned above her, and tongues of scorching orange licked beyond that. There was a face, she realized after a few moments, and the face contained the gold and kept the red flames from doing anything other than tangle around those gleaming eyes and an ichor smeared cheek. There was a distant inkling that she couldn't possibly know what this regal face was thinking. They were emotionless and blank, like a tablet robbed of its power; something about the noises she was making quirked the corner of the woman's mouth and Harrowhark fell to exhausted silence.
Oh God, she thought with a small amount of despair and far more relief than she expected to ever feel again. Griddle is smiling at me.
God did not respond, as he was busy being stabbed.
She could possibly forgive him for being thus distracted.
"There's blood on your mouth, Nonagesimus." Her cavalier smiled more broadly now, in a way that spoke of things so poetically that she was half tempted to call back Ortus and have him explain it. "Need me to get that for you?"