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The old religion and all it practices are long dead. Gone from modern society. That was if you weren't counting the young immortal dragon lord-witch; she kept the old religions practices and stories alive; even if it was like small flame hanging on to a wooden match in a big world of changing winds. The dim flame of an Arthurian time. A time of both peace and war. A time we're magic both strived and struggled.A time of the and true King and Queen. A time where soulmates we're almost rare, but when found, we're true, beautiful, honorable, and celebrated.
The Dagon lord-witch had gone by many names and titles over her long lived years. She never stayed with one name and or one place for to long. She had turned into a traveller. She was traveling to find her home. Not a literal home, but a fugitive one. She was looking for lost lover; her soulmate. Her Arthur Pendragon.
But Maxine would travel everywhere though out the world and though out time, never quite finding who her heart desperately craved and seeked. It started to seem almost hopeless. She had been stuck traveling forever for she was cursed by the gods of the old religion to be immortal. They had left her with the bittersweet promise of her soulmates rebirth. Stuck with feeblest prophecy for mere glimmer of hope. But like all things that people had promised her; they felt like heavy lies that kept the witch wide awake at night but yet, they fueled her to keep moving. To keep living. Her stupid optimism, at times, clouded her logic and reasoning. But it wasn't like anyone could tell her the truth. No one knew the truth, not even her older brother, the great Merlin himself.
Maxine never brothered to get/make any connections of any sort. For her heart couldn't help but involuntarily revoke the idea of trusting someone; for it meant going through the pain of them drifting away from her as the flames of life was slowly distinguished from their souls. Maxine heart wasn't broken, noir was it mended. It was in a constant state of emptiness as if it was simply gone. It had been ripped out so many centuries ago. She had felt so many losses. The lost of her childhood friend,Her father, her first love, her dragon brother, her mother and the most important person that had ever came into her life, Arthur Pendragon, her lover; her Soulmate.
Everyone had left slowly her. One by one they were plucked away by death himself. They had all left her alone in the big world. And how she did missed them all very, very dearly. There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't wish to be back in Gaius's chambers making some weird herb mix and giving Gaius's sassy and sarcastic commentary as she did so. She also missed gossiping and messing around with Gwen as they went about their separate maiden duties. Maxine missed her long talks with Morgana that would often go into the dead of night or early sunrises ( depending on the subject.) She missed playing her violin for the knights of the round table, especially Gwaine who actually rather enjoyed her musical talents. She missed Arthur's smile that could just light up any room. A smiles that made her knees weak and stomach fill butterflies. She misses everything about old Camelot. She can practically hear all their laughter when she recalls all their happiest moments together. All their moment before the war; before her better half of her soul died selflessly. But those moments always faded away to quickly for her own liking and sometimes, they replayed for to long that the memory starts to feel like hot glass slicing threw her own heart. It's all to fleeting for her own liking.
