"When will you come to see me again?"
Once again the Sorceress would find herself holding the letter in her claws. Years had come and gone since it was delivered, yet she clung to it as though it were a small piece of him for her to hold in her grasp. The only piece of him she would be permitted to claim. She knew he belonged to another… understood he would never truly be hers, and yet this irrefutable knowledge did little to relinquish the yearning she felt.
Malakortana was not like the others. Former scourge were often left emotionless, devoid of all feeling, but the corruption in her body left her flawed in the transformation and therefore able to convey emotion. The mask of neutrality she wore was a carefully crafted one, and after countless decades of habit, she developed a sense of self-restraint rivalling that of a God. It was the only reason she was able to maintain her distance for so long.
Time and time again she attempted to perceive herself through the eyes of both the Construct and his Master-- tried to understand the fascination one or both might have when it came to herself. Was she to become an ally? A foe? A pawn in some elaborate scheme? The questions were unending and the answers were so few. There was potential for greatness laced within their connection, but those ‘laces’ could also become disastrous bonds—and Malakortana had endured more than enough bondage in this lifetime than she cared to admit. Thus, she saw to it personally that no one could lay claim over her fate… ever again. This circumstance would be no exception.
She had performed the part of ‘serpent’ in her fair share of temptations. Played devil’s advocate by whispering in unsuspecting ears and encouraging hands to unleash mass destruction. Had woven webs of disaster and ruin and lay in wait for the slightest tug at her silken threads-- all for the sake of preservation and personal gain.
Everything about Him felt different.
When the Sorceress set her sights on something, no amount of time or conflict could impede her effort, and yet this was the one thing she knew she would be continually denied. Patience and persistence were not things that would be effective in this endeavor, and so she sighed inwardly before neatly refolding the letter and tucking it back into the pages of a book.
Perhaps the time had come to finally pay him a visit…
