In the fading darkness, I wait, I watch.
I had not always been as I was...yet I had been so for so long, the memories of what I had been before him frays in my dreams like the flesh of a long dead book, yet I was useful.
What I am now I have been before..searching, ever searching...bound to my savior, my sorrow, with chains I forge anew with every aching breath. Soon this pennance shall be passed...for I am useful.
In the fading darkness I wait, I watch them all...and finger each one like a glutton palming morsals before the feast.
Which shall I choose...which shall I split asunder with my bare hands until the sweet juice runs down my arms and I lay my future within them to feed and grow?
Shall it be one of the feeble children of Man? The strutting brawler, so desperete to be loved that she would do anything to preserve even a deception? The wounded starling, hiding in her own shadows lest anyone tell her a truth she could believe? The silent caryatid, soaked in the balm of with her own doubt even as she flays her own limbs? The innocent, so eager to throw her hopes into the fire, before she truly knows what fire is?
Perhaps one of the weary First Born? The ancient one, fluttering near madness, paralysed by the memory of what she cannot remember? The ageless warrior, brittle with her own repute and the long centuries of diffidant inattention?
Or perhaps one of the cursed sisters...The beast and the spectre, two sides of a broken coin, two columns of a blasted tower, one laughing, one crying, both dying by degrees. Servants to careless masters they cannot trust, acolytes to demons they do not understand. Long have they stood in my road for no good reason save for their own false importance and petty angers...lighting their fates aflame at last would be just...yet hollow.
Finally I am decided....I can taste that which I seek...so angry, so afraid, weeping in the crystal prison of her own resolve. My soul shakes with the scent. My lust, my hunger is a torture as I wait for the prize I know was born to be mine.
I had not always been as I was...but as I was then, I still am....and shall always be.
I am...useful. My tormentors know not how great a price that usefullness can fetch.
I will not wait, I will not watch, forever...and THEN they shall know.
