It has been almost a year since his return, but he is not good at understanding the complexities of time. To him, he had never left. He had simply been on another plane. Time had passed, but not to him. Such were some of the typical musings of a being of infinite life. Time had no real importance except as it related to others. They grew old, they died. He remained the same. Just like his lover; she was a constant. A never-ending goddess. Her strength was unlimited. She had the power to corrupt, to change, to crawl under one’s skin and possess. She also held her subjects with a tight grip right around their hearts. They had no choice but to do her bidding.

Some would see this as an inconvenience, a loss of self-control. But not Gunsynd. No, he loved the feel of her grip around his heart. He let her take over, to control, to use him. He would only do as she bid because through her power he felt infinity. A high that could not be rivaled by mere carnal pleasures. She was his mistress, his only lover. He loved their games. 

Lately he had taken to playing with his lover in different ways. He would push his limits, disintegrating into her, mingling his atoms with hers. To be with her on such a basic level was intoxicating and he would sometimes find that, when he finally reformed, days had passed. He was always refreshed after these forays, like a colt in his prime of life. But it was never enough; he needed to feel this connection constantly. Like any good addict he needed to find his next thrill.

And so it was now his challenge to connect his particles to hers, to change the makeup of some of his most essential components to allow for the fusion of him to her. It took several weeks - maybe even months of trial and error. In that time he had mistakenly become like a pine tree (his feathered hooves suddenly bark and fir) and part of the soil (tread on, unnoticed). But eventually he had succeeded; he had captured her essence - that pure undulating power that seduced them all and held them tight. He could feel her within him, pulsating and controlling. It was inspiring.

He could not keep a hold of her for long, however. She was not meant to be trapped within his cells. He would hold onto her, move her from one molecule to the next for as long as he could, and then when she demanded release he would simply come undone. It was as if she ripped him apart to escape and he was left empty and incomplete. But she had given him an idea…

And so because she desires it, he must find the magician. He must share his idea (was it really his, or had she planted it there?) with him. He lets out a deep call, sending shivers to the surrounding valley. Where was the king hiding today.