Half a Man

A paradoxical calm consumed him. Where his nerves constricted, his breathing evened, his visage unwrinkled with any emotions he might be expected to express. After all he'd had his entire immortal existence to master his emotions and to the desired effect. Gods did not break under pedestrian emotion, they were not ruled by whims as the rest might. Instead he harnessed those emotions, molding them to his will, forming them into something he could use to his advantage whatever that might be. It was a skill not easily own but one that was accessible to all should they suspend their conventional understanding of the world around them. To do so required a blank slate, full erasure of everything they'd ever become just to know the power of emotional mastery, both of themselves and others. 

The roar of the flame was sonorous, and might've drawn a crowd had his magic not prevented just that. The glamour that allowed him to appear unremarkable to everything was the same he extended upon the fire projection. That in partner with the enchantment in play to mute any errant sound from their conversation would keep them just another trio having a spirited conversation. For all anyone knew, this was a lover's quarrel. In a way, that was true, only Elgar'nan was not swayed by such mortal misgivings like love and heartache. No, instead he was swayed by a voracious need for power. He craved a power so great, so complete that it made him vulnerable in a way. Often he was blinded in his forward momentum towards his grand plan. 

Case in point: his little Witch Queen. 

He could feel her scratching at his walls, testing for weaknesses, chinks in the armor. It was all he could do not to smile when he felt her ever persistent curiosity. 

....Little Crow, Little Crow, come a little closer, see what I see.... 

He allowed her past his mental defenses, seemingly under the duress of her efforts. In reality, he'd given in voluntarily and far too easily. Whether or not she recognized that remained to be seen. Without ceremony or much in the way of notice, his defense shut behind her invasive presence. He locked down hard, the wall of adamant sealing seamlessly. There were no second chances. Not when he had a lesson to teach. 

But the rouse continued, he permitted her to wiggle throughout his consciousness, seeing what he wanted her to see, showing her the way towards undermining the glamour. Temptation wrapped in prominent opportunity. Gasps and shrieks from the crowd moments later told him that she took the bait, his hook now imbedded quite soundly in her mind as a result. 

You mistake me Majesty. He started, eyes on him, but mind on her. He circled, manipulating the flame around them as the crowd gathered. I do not want your Crow. She has served her purpose, however disappointingly. 

All the while he spoke to her. 

Take the blade at my side.....you know which one......let it balance in your palm....memorize it's hilt.....

But she really is quite the asset, isn't she? The moment he'd planned now for months in the wake of his resurrection. I see now why you hold her in such esteem. He rounded behind her, eyes continued to stay on Frankie as his hands smoothed over her shoulders. He saw her fingers doing as encouraged, contemplating the jeweled dirk in her hands. 

....bring me his heart....

A command not to be ignored, not to be resisted. The final act of a Fallen Queen. 

But I'm sorry to say, she clipped her wings in service of me. His lips lifted in the corners, stretching across his face in a deranged leer as he looked on and waited.