The Creators || h.styles

Chapter Five

((Are you all ready because holy wow I'm not also Four leaked I'm ))

Circe's P.O.V

I stood silently in Damien's office, looking down at him as I remembered the blank look and damaged state of Jay's mind. Damien stared up at me, fear making his heart pound. He was physically damaged, much more so than the last time I'd had  the displeasure of meeting him. No doubt it was Jay's work that had made him...This.

"What'd you do to her?" Was my first question, once I'd made sure Jay was out of hearing range.

He looked surprised, as if I'd know and tell Jay. I wasn't like that, I didn't interfere. I helped where I was needed, if I deemed it worthy of my help. I viewed interesting things, liked to be where the interesting things were happening. I liked to know what was going on. But I always let things run their course. I had learned a long time ago that interfering only did harm and it was better to sit back.

"I...I took away 20 years of her memory." He replied shakily, and I found myself irritated with his weakness.

Because that was what he was. Weak. I narrowed my eyes, and he shuddered. "What else. She's smart, she wouldn't just let twenty years of her memory go missing without questioning it. You've done something else."

"I might've tweaked her mind a little every month so she doesn't question it. She stays submissive, like a little robot. Is that so bad?" He snickered, taking my not attacking him and assuming I'm not here to harm him

I clenched my jaw, knowing the method to do that. I'd invented it. Something I regretted. "You have no right to do that, Damien. Just like you had no right to trap Esaru, or kill Arsuel." I snapped, my fingers twitching, wanting the heavy feel of my sword in my grasp.

He stood quickly, his eyes flashing dangerously. I wasn't the slightest bit afraid - one, I was the eldest Warrior and therefor the most powerful. Two, he was weak and not even a worthy opponent. And three, he probably wouldn't even be able to draw his sword before his head was on the ground.

He seemed to remember this, and his shoulders relaxed slightly, showing he wasn't going to try and attack. "I have every right." He began, but I cut him off.

"Just because you have the power to do it, doesn't mean you can." I growled, rolling my shoulders and keeping my wings at bay.

I hadn't let my wings out in centuries, so long I'd forgotten the feeling of the wind. I hadn't needed to, and it was dangerous. I was already seen as far too powerful, known by all, and I liked my secrecy. Of course, I was easy to get ahold of, but it was whether or not I wanted to answer or not. And my wings would cause quite a stir if people knew what they looked like. They'd remember. Secrets would be unveiled. Same with my sword. Only those who I'm about to kill have seen my sword. Only the dead know the truth.

"Apparently it does, because I did. And Arsuel isn't dead, you of all Warriors know that." Damien spun around, limping to a cupboard at the back of the room.

I observed him, frowning. "What do you mean? Of course he's dead. You beheaded him." I followed him, the raw feeling of the words I spoke tugging at my chest.

"What? How did..." Damien trailed off, his eyes going huge and he turned to face me, surprise spreading across his face. "No one knows that. We were alone." He narrowed his eyes.

I felt something inside me, the fury of thousands of years built up inside me bursting out of it's bubble and leaking into my veins. I bared my teeth, breaking all my rules with what I said next. "A parent Warrior is connected to their child by the strongest bond of all - if the child dies, then the parent suffers the greatest pain any living being will ever suffer for the rest of their life." I snapped, trembling.