ZINA
If ever Zina was asked to describe evil as a from, she would simply point at the sinewy muscles of a thing that balled itself before them as the description.
Yes, tbis notrouous Master she had always heard of could only be described in one word—Evil.
Evil form, evil eyes, evil voice… evil everything.
And honestly, evil was not so terrifying anymore.
Zina thought he would be something more. Something scary and powerful. But looking at half a man, she felt pity for herself at being scared of this thing… if something so incomplete and lacking a definite form it had no choice but to descend into evil.
She had truly always wondered why she never saw him in her visions. She had seen the Red Wolf, seen her mother, but this man, this Master had remained ever elusive.
Now she knew why. Her powers couldn't have been bothered to descend as low as showing her a dead person.
A dead thing.