Yes, the writing proceeds well. And in honor of the flow, another snippet. Max is in trouble. Again.
She looked down at herself. A complex pattern had been carved on her skin. There were strange letters and symbols overlapping in what looked like an Egptian cartouche, though there the writing was nothing like Egyptian hieroglyphics. These were flowing and snakey and jagged and harsh. The design bled and did not heal.
When it spoke again, it was only inches from her face. Max jerked her head up, forcing herself not to fall back.
“That is my seal. When you come, they will know you and you may pass without question. Do not take long. You will want to see what becomes of the ones you search for.”
“I’ll be coming,” Max said, finding her voice. “But you aren’t going to win.”
The creature tipped its head. “And who will stop me?” It spread its red wings. “Not the angels,” it whispered, sweeping up in the air to hover over first Tutresiel and then Xaphan. “For you have laid them low and even I cannot wake them easily.”
It focused on her again, its body and wings pulling inward until all that was left was the face surrounded by a red nimbus of smoke. Its hatred boiled in the room. What had she done to piss it off so much?
“When I am done, you and every spirit you care for will be destroyed. Their souls will be torn to shreds and scattered across worlds and time.” Its words started low, but with every moment, they resonated louder until the ground vibrated like a struck bell. “Everything you love and everything you know will be struck from the face of this world. Your name will become a byword for betrayal. Now come to me if you dare.”