11-05-2021, 06:56 PM
lord, I fashion dark gods too;
Love unrecognized has a stench about it.
Though he has not experienced it himself (his love is a strange thing, and not truly befitting the word – he prefers something like fondness, and even that is scarce), he has seen nearly every scenario unfold before him. He’s seen this before, the lovesick, even if they do not know it themselves. Her case is slightly different, of course, her mind carefully cordoning off what she most wants to know, another magician’s doing, another chapter in the strange novel of her life.
“I see,” he says, and tries not to let his lip curl. If she is fool enough not to know who he is, he will keep playing this part, a kind magician who only wants to help. At least for now.
He can’t decide, at first, what to ask of her. Because of course he will ask. He grants nothing for free, loves to gorge himself on the terrible prices they are willing to pay to have their foolish wishes granted.
He wonders what it’s like, to have love haunt you enough that you would stand before a dark god.
(Not that she knows it’s love. Not that she knows he’s a dark god. So maybe it’s not much at all.)
He thinks of Ryatah. She would never excise him from her memories. Not that he would let her if she tried. He reaches out, idly, for her. He does this sometimes, just to check.
He pauses when he cannot find her. When there is nothing of her to feel on Beqanna. He reaches for her vision, for those eyes of his creation, but there is only darkness, as if she has gone blind again. He reaches further, feels the sensation of trapped, of the void, swallowing and all-encompassing, and for a moment his mask drops and a thunderclap of fury crosses his face.
But it is gone in an instant and a new plan arises. It’s fitting, in a way. For the women are friends, are they not?
Agetta should not have gotten herself in this situation, should have held onto those memories, that pain.
Ryatah should not have gotten herself in this situation, should not have let herself be put into a void without his oversight.
Two women, in need of a lesson.
“I can give everything back,” he says, the word everything rich in his mouth, “all I need from you is for you to trade places with someone. Not for very long, I don’t think. And then you’ll know, won’t you? Know if you and this someone have met before. You’ll know who he is to you. All I need is for you to say yes.”
He doesn’t need that at all. He could take her now. But it’s always more fun when they agree to their fate.
c a r n a g e
@Agetta