by GR "Maya" Cogman
Look. You can see her tower, out there, silhouetted against the edge of the world.
It seems as tall as your own.
You had instructions for me, Milady?
Yes. You are to receive a Vessel this eve, and go out among the humans.
I will not disappoint you, Milady.
I trust not. Matters are grave enough in this War.
Does she stand at the balcony of her tower, as you do?
Of course. You are young, are you not?
Her tower has stood there against the flames for thousands upon thousands of years now, and she waits at the balcony, watching me.
Is she watching you, too?
But why? You both surely know that the other is there.
It is not like that. There is the need to be ... reassured that the other exists. To know that they are there, watching you as you watch them, conscious of them..
But she's our Enemy!
Oh, yes, Servitor.
I'm sorry, Milady.
No need. I do not expect you to understand. I have stood here watching and waiting for her to come to me for millenia. Do you know what it was like when we lost each other?
It was like having half of myself torn away. We had been attuned to each other for as long as we had existed, so close, so conscious of each other's presence. And then she chose one way, and I chose - another. Division, fracture, she was gone. I had never known that it could hurt so much.But I hadn't really lost her, not enough: I always knew that she was there, the other side of the Marches, watching for me. The pain of betrayal is still there like a hot blade between us, that she could choose to break what we were...
... and now the closest we come is in seeing each other's Servitors, the nearest to touching is in foiling each other's schemes. A shadow-play, grasping at memories and ghosts. No more. Nothing any more, except the knowledge that she is watching and that we can never touch again.
Milady, the hour is late.
Go. You have your orders.
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