...
They knew she was furious.
A line of apologetic commanders waited in her study, each eager to pass off the blame of their recent failure. Their fearful yet indignant expressions made her jaw clench tighter.
She dug up a scrap of patience and ordered silence with a withering glare. "You've proven yourselves incompetent again." The words seemed ritualistic to her ears.
One had the gall to protest. "It's those damn Storm Hawks, Master. They-"
"Get out." Her voice was cutting. She turned her back on them, hands pressed on the large desk littered with scrolls. She heard them climbing over one another in an attempt to escape her wrath.
When the door slammed behind her inept soldiers, she let out a sigh and dropped her chin to her chest.
"Why can't anything turn out right?" A drastic change from a few seconds earlier, her weak voice trembled.
She straightened, sucking in a deep breath and maneuvering slowly towards her high-backed chair. The spine that always stayed as rigid as her staff, slumped. One pale hand sought out the secret compartment hidden in the bottom drawer and slid the rusted key into the lock. Only then did she allow her violet eyes to open.
Thin fingers drifted over her choices and she picked one carefully. A rare Murk Raider concoction, revered for its power. She pulled it to eye level, mesmerized by the swirling tawny liquid. Her opposite hand produced a stout glass, intricately designed and crafted to perfection. She poured only a small amount; she didn't need much to complete the task.
Shaky hands wrapped around the glass as a typhoon of emotions span inside her. She leaned forward as she hesitantly brought the cool glass to her lips where it hovered for a few lingering seconds. The determination she was known for took hold and she tipped it back and swallowed quickly, almost greedily.
The glass fell, unnoticed, to the desk; the last few drops spilled onto the scroll she had been reading earlier, staining it. She readily accepted the burning sensation as the liquid scorched a path down to her stomach. The warmth spread through the body that had been agonizingly frozen for so long. It covered the nicks and dents of her soul, seeping across and filling in the holes. But it was too thin, just a coating to ease the harsh feeling of emptiness that she carried around. Though she could no longer feel the hollow ache, she knew that it was still there. Lurking, waiting to consume her once again.
She used to try to force herself to feel complete, to fill the void with anything that she could. But she had long since realized her fate. She couldn't be whole again. All she could do was try to forget and achieve a fleeting freedom from the weight that pinned her down.
Her head was beginning to feel light and her eyelids were starting to sag. She wanted to rest her head for a moment. She wanted a lot of things. Her hazy mind skimmed over her most recent troubles objectively. She wasn't angry anymore. She didn't care.
There had been the hope that with a lack of emotion, a bout of relief would sweep in. She was granted no such thing. A soft breath passed her lips as she laid her head on her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to think but her mind was as vacant as her heart.
Off in the distance, she heard the creak of the doors and forced herself to sit up. The sudden jarring movement caused her head to spin and her stomach to flip uneasily.
An unnamed Cyclonian cowered in the doorway, waiting for permission to come forward.
Bloodshot eyes narrowed and she beckoned him with a half-hearted wave of her hand. "Come." She rasped.
He stumbled a few steps closer, eyes downcast. "Master Cyclonis." He addressed her formally, as everyone did. "I have need of-"
She didn't let him finish. "You have need of." She emphasized the first word. "What about what I need?" Her words tripped over each other as she stared at him accusingly. He had ruined her limited peace of mind.
"My apologies, Master-"
Her hands grabbed the first thing they could find. She hurled the expensive glass at him with all her might. It shattered on the door behind him. Struggling to regain her calm, she folded her hands in her lap and blinked in a vain attempt to clear her vision. "Close the door on your way out."
He said nothing and scurried out like a rat underfoot.
Her thin lips twisted into an emotionless smile. She gracelessly brushed a stray lock of pitch-coloured hair from her eyes, surprised to find her cheeks wet. A hollow laugh broke free and echoed on the rafters high above.
The ice was bleeding back into her bones and she struggled against the lid of the bottle. The simple task was far more difficult this time. When she had finally worked it free, she downed the remainder of the golden drink and tossed it aside.
The numbness enveloped her like a cozy blanket on a frigid night. She gave into it and let her consciousness fade. This was her contentment.