vii. @magicasted
WHY IS HE HERE? The choking aroma of fresh bouquets forfeits his presence. It was distinctive; kin to century-old memoirs that only the faded depths of her conscious could muster. It tempted her submissive hostility to engage in sudden introductions, but she refrained. The shadow of his frame perched at last a meter behind her, the profile of his hair haphazard like a nest of butterflies before the sunset cement. Death did them ‘part long ago, but she wonders what wicked wizardry brought him here, now. The Throne of Heroes discriminated against none, but his purpose here held no merit. Masters do not exist here.
“Do not step any closer,” she starts with muted menace, “--with the assumption that I will be as cordial to you as I have. If you are to approach me, understand that my sentiments for you are as ancient as those times. Should you proceed without caution,”
“--I will have your throat.”