| Maybe it’s nostalgia that draws you back to the rotunda; maybe it’s the glitter, but either way, you find yourself moving toward the woods at a steady clip towards what was once the Regime’s meeting ground. Not that a meeting has been held there in months—the demon queen has disappeared from Helovia, and as the seasons change, you wonder if any of her grand plans will ever come to fruition. But what is it to you? You are a mercenary in your alliances, trading your loyalties to the highest bidder for what they can give you, be it power, protection, or possessions. Nevertheless, the skull-faced mare has been haunting your thoughts as of late, and it’s growing increasingly irritating. You knew she would be great, but you were wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. And wrong is something that you hate to be.
Preoccupied, you pace through the trees, brow furrowed in a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance. For a creature who has honed her instincts, whetting them carefully with the blade of experience, and relying on them daily, Confutatis’ failure to rally is a devastating blow to your confidence; it is a sign that you are losing your touch. You should have known better, and you curse your stupidity under your breath. What were you thinking, aligning yourself with some rebel, a mere rabble rouser whose cause was in its infancy? You of all equines should know that power is never sweetly given—it must be pried loose from cold, dead jaws. When you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of your so-called visionary in months, you should have seen it coming.
Perhaps what is most infuriating is that this is not the first time you have given yourself this lecture. Sure, the suspicion that Confutatis’ fire had somehow fizzled began to cross your mind weeks ago, but you had held on to a strange thread of hope that she would return. But no matter how many times you told yourself that you must have been mistaken about her, inexplicably, a part of you insisted that you were right—you had to be. There was something about her…a veritable hunger and thirst for power, a thin-lipped smirk screaming of dominance and authority, a mind that worked like a well-oiled machine, and a body with the scars that proved she was willing to take what she wanted by any means necessary—they were all the markers of untapped greatness. How could you be wrong when all the signs had pointed in the right direction? She was a queen, and you both had known it from your very first encounter. And, though you would never admit it, even to yourself, the skull-faced mare embodied everything that you admired—she had a mind as sharp as yours, but she bubbled and seethed with the ruthlessness you lacked. She would fight her way to the top, that one…whereas you never would.
As the ancient structure gradually began to come into view between the thick copses of trees, your ears pin in anger—anger at Confutatis for leaving, and anger at yourself for still somehow believing in her. The cause is dead, and it is high time to move on to the next highest bidder. Even the thought of gathering colorful trinkets, like you had originally planned, does not soothe you now. You are growing uncharacteristically wild in your fury, snapping branches left and right, wanting to put a hoof right through those pretty stained-glass windows. You march up to the rotunda, intending to do just that…and that is when the miracle happens: Confutatis, in the flesh, is standing just inside.
Your heart drops to your stomach, and if you didn’t have an iron grip on your self control, you would have burst into hysterical laughter. Speak of the devil, Sheba; speak of the devil! You don’t know whether you are angry or relieved to see her, but the feeling that is rising in your chest is an intoxicating mixture of triumph and, oddly enough, hope. You will have your queen yet. In all of your petty emotion, you had forgotten the most important of virtues: patience. You could kick yourself for that one, but that will come later. You have thoughts only for the one before you. “My queen,” you murmur, voice echoing slightly on the cold stone of the rotunda’s interior. “It has been many weeks since I have had the pleasure of your company,” you continue, stepping into the shadows to join her. “Pray tell, how may I be of service?” It is only then that you notice that you are not alone. A large, wolf-like creature also lurks in the shadows, and your ears twitch backwards slightly, adrenaline flooding your gut. But you will not turn tail and run before Confutatis, especially since she is between you and the wolf. So, you stand your ground, awaiting the mare’s response. Heaven knows, you've waited long enough.
@[Confutatis]
EDIT: tagging because I noticed you're back c:
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