Illyria (not_the_shell) wrote in iftomorrow,
Illyria
not_the_shell
iftomorrow

  • Mood:

Lost

I canted my head as I watched Wesley's movements carefully. They were uncontrolled, so unlike the mortal I had grown to know. I wondered at the experience we had shared with The Shell thanks to the witch's sorcery, yet laughter filled my ears.

"Heh-heh-heh-heh..."

"Wesley." I was confused. What was humorous?

"Yes, I learned quite a bit from that experience..."

Then he was gone in a movement of blur and I was left alone again in this world which no longer had a need for me save to fight, to kill...to stand besides the supposed heroes in a battle that would drench my hands with blood and...

And would make me...valuable.

I realized, then, that Wesley did not value me, would never value me. His mutterings and incoherent ramblings as he fumbled for kisses from a dead woman were proof enough. But now? Now he appeared lost in his thoughts of her, as I had once been.

Where I had been broken and repaired, he was my mirror.

I could bide my time - God-Kings had all the time in the world! It slipped through my fingers as dust once! - and I waited for him to return.

For this time, it would be I who guided, not he.
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