Veigar's Wrath [Remastered]

PROLOGUE - 1

The top of the tower was the only place he could truly say he was the tallest in the world. The townspeople below hardly paid mind to his existence, but Veigar knew deep down they knew who their ruler was. And now, at the apex of his tower, he could watch them toil like the ants they were. He felt their fear (as little as there was) radiate from them. Just how he wanted it. They knew their place, and for a character so small, he made quite an image.

Mortals really were amusing creatures. He wouldn't trust a single one of them, but they at least provided entertainment, that he could give them. It was fun to poke fun at their silly human desires of camaraderie or love, as they only served to prove the folly of mortal society. It was easy for a yordle like him, unable to experience such base and fleeting desires to dismiss the very existence of those things. However, a wizard as brilliant and cunning as himself knew all about those foolish concepts. That was the point of his tower... it was a lesson. And all lessons must be repeated until they have been absorbed.

Veigar always loved this powerful feeling. His steel gauntleted hands behind his back, feeling the cold wind blow against the fur on his face as the sun sank lower into the horizon. He took a deep breath and sighed, gazing to the bottom of his tower and back up. This was the perfect tower.

That being said, the height would do Veigar wonders if he had wings to carry him to his room. But he didn't want the bother, a powerful wizard such as him wouldn't dare make such a childish wish. Using the stairs was a sign that he was simply so evil, so cruel, and so successful he has all the time in the world at his disposal. Therefore, he uses his precious time to exercise in that moment, climbing up the thousands upon thousands of stairs as quickly as he could to ensure he held superiority over those of inferior stature, even over the minutes in time itself. After all, he was Veigar, master of all evil. The undisputed warlock, feared by many, known by even less. His mere mention makes grown men tremble so long as Veigar is around to see it.

Though, he could not enjoy this power trip for long. The pleasant howling of the wind was interrupted by the sound of steel plated boots rushing up swiftly to the top of the tower. He slowly turned around to see the heavy wooden doors behind him. He felt a bit of disgust looking at them, wondering why such heavy doors must be up here.

"Another mortal who must learn his place," the yordle sighed.

The doors slammed open immediately, almost startling Veigar at how quick they opened. Though, instead of seeing a human from the town below, there was a much more familiar face. Pitch black hair that covered her eyes, snow white fur, purple robes, long ears that drooped down the sides of her head.

Veigar dropped his guard when he saw the familiar sight. As quickly as a smirk appeared on his face, it soon faded into a disappointed sigh. The girl walked onto the balcony, the wind blowing her hair to the side, breathing heavily as though she had run through the entirety of the woods just to get here.

"Ah, hello again, thrall. Glad to see you've arrived in good time," he turned around to look upon the setting sun, opening his arms to gesture at the entire forest that lay at their feet.

The thrall staggered, moving closer to her master while straightening herself. She tried to look tough, as she always did. Always pretending like it doesn't take a toll on her to use magic every second she spends serving Veigar.

"My lord..." she tried to speak, though the exhaustion and nervousness that had been creeping into her voice gave her away, "...y-yes... I came as quickly as I could."

The thrall then walked closer, now right behind the yordle mage who still faced the opposite direction.

"We... we got rid of all the stuff about Vixis the Cruel and replaced it with your stuff... a-and we..." her sentence drifted off as her master suddenly turned to her, putting the tip of his scepter to her throat, the swirling purple mist lingering to her flesh, yet she could feel none of the chill on her fur.