Chasing Mildred

One

"There is no foolproof way to confront a sorcerer in battle." We heard that time and again in class as children. A warning.

Know your enemies, your boogeyman, those who can best you with claws or magic. Choose your battles wisely. These were the lessons of my youth.

I was a great student, but you would never know that now.

You can prepare your whole life. Devote yourself to something entirely. And all it takes is one person to ruin it.

One sorcerer.

She's on this Twitter thing too. You could probably find her if you knew where to look. Of course, I know because it is my business to know.

Knowledge is still power. Knowledge is always power. That's the best thing I didn't learn from my old man. His approach was always more... well... direct.

And it ultimately got him killed. He underestimated her at every turn, and I cannot. Will not.

Perhaps some of you already think I'm no different than him. But you'd be wrong. All obsession is not equal. Not even close.

Yet there's no denying it's been months and I can still taste her blood on my lips, feel her warm flesh beneath my fingers. She haunts me more effectively than any ghost, possesses me more violently than any demon.

And I'm not speaking metaphorically, this is the way of magic - her magic. It's insidious. It creeps under the skin. Makes a home there.

She'd probably tell you she saved my life, and that's true. But I suspect she's proud of the magical ropes she's bound me in.

Almost every night, like clockwork, I feel her yank on them as if I was nothing more than a marionette. She takes and takes and takes.

There is no respite, no peace, just the constant beckoning pull of her magic feeding on my lifeforce.

"The Bond" - such an innocuous term, but it should be called what it is: a parasitic infection.

You think I'm lying? Then, tell me, how do I steal my power back? How do I make her stop?

When I should be asleep, I close my eyes and fall into her. When I awake, there she is pulling again.

She imprisons me as surely as my father once imprisoned her.

Bring her back, they say. Harness that power for yourself, they say. Where your father used fear, use her, they say.

They don't know what they ask. And yet, I am here, setting the plan in motion. Studying her movements and laying the bait.

"If you must confront a sorcerer, your speed, strength and cunning are your best tools." The textbooks said that too.

I haven't forgotten all my lessons.