The slap sent Dara to the floor, palms hitting the solid surface and sinking a bit before stopping her momentum. Her lip throbbed, and a drop of her blood pooled on her lips before dripping. She looked at the red spot, and her fingers dug into the material of the ship itself.
A tingle went through her hands, and she could have sworn the ship shivered.
The covered priest snapped. "Blasphemy. You know nothing of what you speak. Our king was the chosen one. It was his evil brother's fault - "
Heat flared in her hands, and she felt a hum vibrate her body.
"Not evil. Mikhail did the right thing." The voice appeared before the body did.
The image separated from the wall, tall and masculine in shape, the shoulders broad. The longer she stared, the more it took shape, even growing features and strands of hair. The rendition ended up looking human except when you looked into its eyes. Those were bottomless pits.