I could not help but bark a laugh, “And they say that the soldiers of the Hosts Radiant have no sense of humour! Fine, a cushion and you of course must abdicate the Sunlit Throne, and the Hosts Radiant must disband. I’ll also want the populations of the cities of Haldar and Suier rounded up and executed for treason. Oh, and the gold plates sheathing that gaudy Temple of the Dawn Victorious in Kuilthal needs to be stripped and melted down so I can outfit my personal legion in ceremonial gold armour and spears.”

She actually smiled at me, and there was a playful edge to it if I were not mistaken. Starless night, had she actually lost her mind whilst I’ve been gone? “And they say that the Lord of Sorrows is a humourless monster. We both know I will not give up nearly that much to you, but I am glad you are finally open to negotiation. You miss it, Nukhri. Do not pretend that you do not. You are not challenged here in this place. Only I can provide you that.”

“And still you say you do not do this, because you crave the same? That you do not miss testing your blade against mine? That you do not miss matching wits and wills. That thrill of Power, of Command, of striving one against the other and All hanging in the balance?” I was close again, almost pressed against her, my voice low, our eyes meeting. I hadn’t quite realised I was moving, that I had grasped her face again, “Admit it to me, Marikha of the Sundered Vale, Dawn’s Chosen. Admit that you long for my return. That you miss me.” I smiled slowly, “Admit what we both know to be Truth, and I will return with you.”

Oh those amber eyes, blazing, forceful. The anger that burned as the sun. The Power hidden within, gathering like a storm on the horizon ready to burst forth in lightning and torrent. I suppose I had missed that. The creeping thrill that this time, this time she might let go and seek to scour me from Existence itself. How bright and blazing and terrible she would be then, and how Creation would scream upon the pyre she would make of it.

It was close, so close but then the anger shifted, twisted and turned inward, and then there followed pain in her eyes and a shameful whisper, “I do. I miss it. There are none in all Creation that are my equal, that can challenge me, that... that make me feel alive…”

I rocked back on my heels, struck by the pain of that admission that I had torn from her. It was intoxicating, potent, and honestly, I hadn’t actually expected it. I could feel my face flushing with the rush of it. I had to compose myself. I summoned up a smug, self-satisfied smile, and steadied my voice, “There, now doesn’t that feel so much better, no more dirty shameful little lies to yourself, True-Seer?” I paused, frowned and then suddenly it struck me what I had done. In the heat of it all, I had made a promise to return if she told me the truth. An oath I would be bound to honour.

Well.

Fuck.

I whirled away from her and began striding towards the door, trying to play it off as imperious and arrogant and commanding as surely she expected of me, “Come then, Chosen,” I called, and with a flicker of will I called forth my dragon bone staff and my iron diadem, and because those would look quite ridiculous paired with a suit I transmuted my clothing into something a little more stately and imperial, “My new reign of terror cannot begin without the valiant champion of the Light to stand in righteous opposition.”

I refused to look back to see if she was following. I most certainly did not want to see if she was looking smug at having played me. I resolved that immediately it was practical when I returned, I would go burn down a village or four just to spite her.