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But no sooner have I gotten my focus, than she opens her mouth again. She is relentless in that regard.
“You said your name was Peliel, right?”
I’ve had three virtuous hours of silence, and now she bothers me with inane questions.
“Yes. I told you that only minutes ago.”
I had thought that the human memory was more reliable than this, but apparently not.
With my eyes adjusted to the outside and doing reconnaissance, I fiddle with more ritual-based crafts, toying with them on the large table. There is not much movement from the elves or the orcs, thankfully, but I still long to spring into action. It’s been weeks since I’ve tasted freshly spilled orc blood.
And now for some reason, I don’t want to leave my cavern. I do not understand why.
I have the information I need. I could easily obliterate the ground on which they stand, right at this moment. Even from a distance, in sacrificing a fraction of my power, I could rip into their skulls and pry out their darkest thoughts.
When you have that power and you fail to use it, the creatures you showed mercy to will only devour you while you sleep. Not even an immortal is immune to that knowledge.
So why do I hesitate?
This pet has made me overly sentimental. I know that she is mine to care for, but why do I insist on safeguarding her here?
“Peliel,” she says again. I clutch my fists in rage, not looking at her for fear that I might snap and kill her where she stands.
“Yes?”
“I think we have a misunderstanding. I don’t know what you want with me, but I promise you I’m worth no gold and have little value to anybody.”
“That’s good to know,” I snarl. “I will treasure that information.”
She hesitates.
“Yes. Well, as I’m of no use to you, I’m sure you understand. But in the interest of good faith, can you please let me–”
I stamp my foot into the ground before she can finish her sentence, cracking the rocks underneath me. The noise is probably explosive to her, but the damage will be easily mended and will be an effective show of force.
Her attempts at diplomacy, in spite of the fear that quivers audibly in her voice, are all laughable. She cannot hope to bargain with me.
I see her for the frightened girl she truly is.
I don’t drop my focus. My eyes are still both in the cavern and hovering over the desert, observing the camps in the dreary night. In one set of eyes, I see the dark blue desert sky, covered from moment to moment by gales of sand. On the other, I see this inept, shivering girl, whose attention I cannot hope to entertain.
I’m still not sure what I’m watching for. I only know that I need to be vigilant.
She coughs, and I can feel my forehead throbbing.
“As I was saying, can you please let me–”
Dropping my focus entirely, I stomp over to her, picking her up by her neck and slamming her against the cavern wall. She cries out in pain as her clothing and skin scrape the hard minerals, blood running free.
“You understood fine before,” I snarl. “I told you to shut up. If you want to live, you’re going to shut up and let me work.”
She gasps for breath.
I sometimes forget that most mortal beings need to breathe to survive, and I can see her choking in my grasp.
My grip tightens for a moment.
I consider ending this right here.
