Scar-Faced Hag
Pyrokinesis was not a power that Cora had willingly sought out. The day Horace had held her down and pressed a hot iron poker into her abdomen, she'd had a perfect view of the fire crackling in the hearth of his study. Ever since then, she'd had a quiet aversion to flames.
Cora lowered the edge of her tunic and tucked it back into her trousers. She'd revealed the gnarled skin, dark ink interrupted by pink jagged lines that sat just above her right hip, for a few moments only.
It was something she rarely talked about, and to do so without becoming visibly upset was new territory for her. Cora was tired. She had no tears left for Horace and his abuses.
"I suppose I just…do not want to be in that situation again, nor would I want someone else to be." She cupped her chin with her thumb and forefinger as she spoke with an almost conversational tone. The training room around them was constructed of stone to prevent the temple from being burned to ashes.
Valery was one of the few people she trusted enough to approach with a task as delicate as this.
Valery Noble
