Over the ages they tell my story in hushed whispers decorated with breathless warnings like lovely jewels. They say I am evil. They say I am deadly. They say that to look into my eyes is to be lost. They say I steal fair maidens and teach them sin. They say such sweet things.
Most of the things they say are even true, or at least half true. Yes, I can drain your will with no more than a glance. However, those poor, fair maidens? I didn’t teach them sin, I just gave them the permission they craved, and they joined me oh-so-eagerly.
But, of course, the families of those women who run away with me tell the story that they wish were true—that their wives and sisters and daughters were absolutely pure of heart, and how I must have been driven by jealousy to abduct them.
Ha! You should have seen how charmingly depraved some of them were before I even met them. Still it’s true, others wore their masks quite well before I offered them a place to flourish with like-minded souls. Either way, they have all bloomed so beautifully here with me.
Unfortunately the things these families tell each other to save face create the terribly irksome tendency to summon would-be heroes to my home on a quest to “defeat my evil forever.” You would think they’d heed the warnings about me. There are so very many of them, after all.
Yet somehow every time—every time!—they manage to convince themselves that they are the ones who finally have the key to my downfall. It would be endlessly entertaining if it weren’t a distraction from the much more pleasant company I could enjoy instead.
And now, at last, here you four are, with your shields polished to a mirrored shine so you could look at me only through reflection rather than endure my hypnotic stare directly. Very clever. And honestly, you deserve recognition for making it all the way through my castle alive.
There’s just one thing… One thing I think you’d like to know about my castle which gets missed in all the stories people share. This entire structure is a living extension of my magic. You may avoid my direct gaze, but you have been walking my veins, immersed in Pure Me.
So now, when I command you to drop your weapons—good pets—and look upon me directly, I hope you feel at least a bit foolish in whatever dwindling remnants of your minds remain. Though I confess I am already quite bored of you.
I think I’ll let my newest servant decide what to do with you lot. She’s been aching for an opportunity to demonstrate how vicious she can be when given the chance, and I confess that watching her work hard to impress me with cruelty will bring a smile to my face.