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Demona was free. Free from her accursed human form. She was loathed to admit it came with its advantages. Advantages she was wise enough to exploit.
However, no matter how great the benefits her human form granted her, it was not her true self. It was a mere disguise at best and a mockery of her most held beliefs at worst.
She gladly glided through the crisp night air. Feeling the wind on her cerulean skin. She felt an updraft and adjusted accordingly. This was her. Her true *superior* form. No other body could compare to it.
A well fortified muscular structure that put to shame any battlement. Her height greater than any mere human tower could reach. Her wonderful untamable mane that raged with passion as her eyes did when provoked or in a blood lust.
A prehensile tail that snuck under the radar with a mind of its own to do hidden devious deeds and tricks. All meticulously tied together by her best immutable trait. Her wonderfully majestic wings. How they soared the sky and let her dance in the wind. She was truly a genetic masterpiece; through and through. A true marvel.
She moved herself to the East. She wasn’t sure exactly which of her multiple plans was going to win out in her interest’s level of priority. As she was making up her mind, she felt an abrupt shift.
It gave her such a start that she faltered with her wings and nosedived involuntarily. She quickly righted herself and landed on a nearby building. She panted and her eyes were wide in shock.
She wasn’t used to this feeling. Not being in control. Something was wrong. Well, maybe not wrong. But it was unusual. She felt like something from the past had purposely touched her immortal body for the briefest of moments. Yet, still long enough for her to register.
She felt like a soul had moved on. She had her fair share of spells, magic, sorcery and the feeling of having a soul tether away from you. Of course, hers always gravitated itself towards her thanks to a curse the Weird Sisters put on her. To have time stop for her.
To never again have mortality brush against you. To be a witness to eternity itself. She had long since accepted that lifetimes ago. Where had that mysterious feeling stemmed from? She let herself go back into her long long held memory banks.
Back to memories of her homeland. Memories of night patrols and being called an Angel of the Night. To pine forests, crashing coastal waves and mountains that her strong claws sunk eagerly into. A voice popped into her head. A voice Demona wish she had forgotten. Robert.
Her old friend and ally in war. That was his soul that had passed on. She did not know how she was perceiving this sensation, but she knew that’s what it was. She knew it like she knew her own appropriately picked name. She felt his very essence. His remaining spectral force slipping away unto the next chapter.
A twinge of envy hit her. He could die and move on. Not her. Robert could embrace his daughter in the afterlife, while hers was on the side of those blasted humans who poisoned her mind! Her clans men had been eradicated like vermin by her (the humans!) Had Robert fulfilled his end of the bargain, Castle Wyvern would have belonged rightfully to her clan!
No smashing, no immortality, no divorce, no pain and no regret. It wasn’t her fault! She knew that. And yet. A disgusting nagging feeling wormed its way inside her mind and heart. No matter how many centuries passed, it refused to leave her alone.
Then, Demona heard it. That same ancient voice she had heard a thousand years ago. Two simple words. “I’m sorry.” She knew she heard it. She hadn’t gone mad. Not anymore at least. Been there, done that.
She heard it as clear as night. Something struck her. Right at her core. All that she was shook. She felt her strong body crumble. She felt hot vulnerable tears threaten to spill from her eyes. So much emotion that Demona had thought she had snuffed out, became stirred and bubbled back up to the surface.
Did she dare to forgive this man? This human who had helped betray her? Watched idly as her brothers and sisters were slaughtered? Who got to move on while she forever suffered by the hands of Homo Sapiens simply existing? She felt a conflict within her.
A small ember of doubt filled her heart and burned her insides. She clutched her chest. Her face softened. Should she really? No! Never! She swiftly snuffed that feeling out and roared in defiance!
She would never forgive him. Could never forgive the humans for what they did to her! Her clan! Her kind! It was Robert’s fault! The human’s fault! Everyone else’s but hers! All but hers. She would survive as she had always done for a thousand years. Alone and with her competence. Her wit and skill had served useful this long for a reason.
She laughed in the face of forgiveness. The Captain of the Guard would never have her pardon. Not until she died! And even after that, she could scatter and her body could crumble into dust. She would still never forgive him!
She took off from her perching spot. A new found motivation and hatred for the humans born anew. She would wipe them all out! Dirty, disgusting, lying, vicious scoundrels! Hear her! She was the She-Demon! And she would not rest until the last human was between her talons.
Until her people were safe and ruling, she would not stop. Never stop! Robert could keep his pathetic apology. She was going to do something that actually benefited her. She swirled into the air and kept straight. Demona did not need apologies. Only complete and utter domination. The human race would one day pay.