A Demon Chooses, A Servant Obeys

[Observing Future]

Develop what magic will make you special,

Not what has made others.

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Perhaps my kindred are starting to become just as talented with mortal words as I am. Maybe even moreso. The nature of demons has, and always will remain simple in what we are at our core. We're animals, we will eat one another. We will use a different version of lying and cheating to get what we want. We respect power, because even chaos needs some semblance of order to thrive. Yet that doesn't stop the most profane statements coming from those whom are stronger than I.

You are so concerned with the claws of others.

You have failed to leave your own mark.

A statement that stumped me. Baffled me. Befuddled me in that very moment. For some reason, it was the last thing I'd ever expected to hear from him. From any demon for that matter. What makes me unique, what makes me, me. Than again, I've always viewed magic as little more than a tool. A potent one, a powerful one- one I still view as superior to that of a sharpened blade. Perhaps that is simply how it is to be... Me, never finding a true understanding on how or why Sanfey, Ilysander and Arlyss take such pride in something so simple and crude in nature.

Crystals can be used to enhance food. It can give me a high equatable to that of fantasia when I feel a need to simply enjoy myself. The earth can be molded to mine ores better, to crack a cave apart, to shape and mold artistic beautiful sculptures to my own whim. The winds can catch a tune, and draw my laughter even further. And brutality, is merely satisfaction. To feel bones crunch beneath weight, that satisfying snapping sound! Or even just a muscular, toned physique.

I quite like being muscular within the ascended form.

But the Blade has never bought me any form of satisfaction. I have sparred more than I have actually truly bled with it. I've won just as much if not moreso. The strikes are precise, there's grace to it. Like a sort of dance. Scarlet showed me such, and yet even then... I only enjoyed fighting another swordsman. What does that say about me, I wonder. Some magi fall beneath the swings of my hammer with ease, and yet I felt nothing when I bested my Etriath... I felt nothing, whenever I managed to win against the Kingmaker. It was only fighting Scarlet, only fighting Adelina. Only fighting those who wield the same swordsmanship as I wielded my mace, that bought me an inkling of satisfaction.

It's tempo!

There is a thrill to it...

Is that why my Lord faced Arlyss with such fervor? Is that why he was infuriated when that long-lasting dual was denied in the end. I think, I understand such. It is an art form, and yet no matter how many times I tell myself that I am an artist. I am a brute. There is no satisfaction to victories with the blade, against magi who refused to take hold of it. And even when I face a master of the blade, what exactly can the blade do for me outside of combat? I cannot sculpt with it, I cannot cause a high, I cannot carve something into stone or create works of beauty with it...

I find myself hunting less. Am I changing? Or is fighting just not as fun?

Are you alright? You seem distant as of late.

My first drawing of blood since taking up these strikes. And yet I was not satisfied. Even the giddiness of slicing open his pockets and letting the coins fall into my fur, barely elicited a chuckle. I was not laughing. Not once. I was so focused, so unlike myself. Why, I almost felt like an alien within my own skin...

What kind of witch would I be if I abandoned my pact-mate?

An accurate witch, silly woman.

Or maybe it is other frustrations of the mind. Who knows. But I know one thing, without the excitement of battle, I find that the world starts to lose its luster. If the world loses its luster, if there is no entertainment, than what exactly, is the point? I live to have fun. To be amused! By mortal tomfoolery, or by the orders that My Lord deigns to give me. To do something, be something. Take pride in that something...

We need to keep an air of dignity about us.

An air of dignity, is exactly all it needs to be, and nothing more.

Sometimes, I wish I had only maintained my pact with my Etriath. Sometimes, I wish I had perished at the blade of Sanfey in that stellar moment! Truly theatrical, a fitting end. Sometimes, I wish the world would burn down around me. Just because I think it'd be funny to see how all those I know, would react as it comes tumbling down upon them! Sometimes, I miss my my blissful ignorance.

I think it is time to focus, on what I would enjoy. And cease these idolization. They're embarrassing aren't they?