Hello everyone~ Here I am again with yet another Griffin-Valtor FF. This story was originally written in German (by me), which is why this is a translation. For everyone interested, I will link the German version here.

This story describes the moment when Griffin got to know that Valtor had escaped his prison in the Omega dimension. Technically, this here is a time span of perhaps about 15-30 minutes. However, I wanted to display in a very detailed manner, just how Griffin had felt. This is why I elongated this moment so much. Additionally, it was very important to me to show what kind of past those two had and how they felt for one another. This is why we'll dive into some flashbacks and memories of her. I just wanted to dump this here, so that you won't ask yourself while reading, why everything is described in such detail. I hope I managed to movingly express her feelings. As always, reviews are much appreciated.

Love

Lady Athena of Olymp


17 years

The silence ate into every corner of her office, laid in dense wafts of fog in the room, and echoed loudly in her ears. Her heart started to beat again, missed the rhythm, and was carried away in a wild gallop. She didn't even have the presence of mind to sit down, steady herself and control her faltering breath. No, because her head had been cleared of every logic, every thought, and bit of reason. Only the deafening silence slammed harshly into her mind.

He was back again. After 17 years. He. Of all…he.

Griffin didn't know for how long she had been standing there, staring at her monitor from which Faragonda had told her minutes ago the bad news that Valtor, against all expectations, had fled his prison in the Omega dimension. Flabbergasted, she drew the curtains, the incoming light cruel in her eyes. A bitter reminder that the following months would likely not be accompanied by this light.

It shouldn't have been possible. It shouldn't be possible for anyone to escape the Omega dimension. However, impossible had always been a word Valtor persistently found abhorrent. For that, she knew him well enough. And she knew him well enough to know that not even a blink of an eye of time would pass until he started to mark the dimension, take what he wanted, and punished the dimension for the years of his imprisonment. Who had aided him in his escape didn't pose a mystery to Griffin. She had told the magic council how foolish an idea it was to send an ice witch to the Omega dimension. Yet listening and reason had never been virtues in politics, that much the headmistress of Cloudtower had known early on. Now she was powerless to witness, how a vengeful trio of witches collaborated with the protégé of their ancestors. It was, as if time turned back, searched for new protagonists just to act out the infamous story all over again.

Only this time, the circumstances were different. Griffin was painfully aware of that. Half of the company of light had disappeared without a trace and the other half had grown older. Valtor, on the other hand, had probably lost nothing of his power and definitely nothing of his age. Additionally, he was now accompanied by very eager and highly talented witches, who only longed to receive something from his abundant knowledge. Griffin knew that the dimension had to prepare itself for a long, painful war.

She sighed softly when she finally managed to let herself fall on her chair. The conversation with Faragonda and the following shock let her forget for a few valuable minutes the surge of emotions and memories, that was now building up threateningly inside herself, making her gasp for air. With quivering fingers, she removed her gloves, couldn't bear the feeling of them any longer. She hurriedly freed her hair from the elaborate up-do in a desperate attempt, to ward off the upcoming headache. However, running away proved fruitless.

Griffin was no longer used to such a torrent of feelings. For the last 17 years, she had hidden herself beneath a mask of rigid insensitivity, strict discipline, and royal demeanor. Now she felt more exposed than ever before as if her conscience had left her body and was now sitting accusingly in front of her.

17 years. Griffin couldn't even comprehend where all that time had gone to. She still felt as if everything had happened just yesterday. Nonetheless, it hadn't, and Griffin had mastered herself in the past years to deny, what so obviously belonged to her and her past. Him.

And now that man, the only man that had ever been important in her life, had returned. Sadly, neither to bring her flowers nor to teach her more spells. No. Everything that he would probably carry with him was pain, rage, and smoldering hatred. For her. The traitor.

A piercing twitch raced through her veins, choked up her throat, glittered as sweat on her skin, and found itself as naked terror in her eyes as Griffin grew aware of the entirety of her situation. He would visit her. It absolutely didn't matter where she went, where she tried to hide. He would find her. Had always done so. Valtor was an animal, an unchained beast and she was his preferred prey. Even if her towering pride would let her flee instead of fighting, she would still have no means of safety. She would have to confront him.

In doing so, she didn't fear the physical pain that he would surely harbor for her. It was about the emotional pain. She wasn't ready to confront him. To look into those restless, of fire infuriated icy blue depths and see there every single accusation that she had cumbersomely repressed. Of course, Griffin knew that he was the monster. That his punishment had been more than justified, that she paid for all her sins and that she, purely logical, ought not to feel any guilt. But if it was so easy, then she would also not sit shakingly in her chair but would stand united, fearlessly, with the rest of the company of light and would send Valtor back to exactly where he had come from. It just simply wasn't like that.

Because Griffin was a slave to her feelings. Without being able to stop them, and reprimand her racing heart, she was pulled back into the past. Shakingly, she clamped her hands down on the sturdy table in front of her, as if that anchoring in reality, helped her escape her mental world. A pathetic attempt. After all, Griffin had always been the one to punish herself the best. Helplessly, she sat there and stared into the whirls of memories.

Laughter.

"Aww come on! Just tell me!" A woman's voice, determined but courageous. "Don't be so impatient, little one! I'll show you eventually!" A deep, manly voice. Laughing. "How can I not be impatient? For days you've been roaming around like a tiger…you're hiding something, aren't you?"

Two people stroll through a field.

"Alright, fine. You're almost pushing for it." The man's voice. Grinning. "Today's not just any day, right…it's your birthday. And yeees, before you're sending me to hell because of a case of sentimentality…I would've made this anyway. It just happened like this."

An outstretched hand. Glittering in the sun, a necklace. A curved, golden S.

"Happy Birthday, Griffin." Softly, lovingly.

Hot tears stung Griffin's eyes as she was pulled back into the present. Tears she hindered from rolling down her cheeks by sheer willpower. She wouldn't cry. Not because of him. Still, her hand detached itself from the table in front of her and grasped the necklace traitorously, that hung around her neck. A curved, golden S.

It was to cry for. How could someone, that she hadn't seen for 17 years, still have such an influence on her? It was over after all. Their time together was over. Nothing but memories were left of it. And still, he haunted her head like a ghost, didn't let her go, and took hold of her attention so much, as if he sat next to her. It was maddening.

Sighing, she laid back in her chair. Technically, it wasn't the time to look back on her past. She should go and inform Zarathustra and Ediltrude of the new situation. She should take a look at Andros, where the new, threatening quartet would undoubtedly stay. She should also write exams for the second year, which would have to take the midterm exams in biology 2 soon. Additionally, she had various documents to skim over, a written statement of the magic council to review, and some kind of letter from Saladin to read. She had a thousand other things to do instead of sitting here, halfway frozen to a pillar, in front of her table and staring deafened into the yawning silence. However, she had gotten to know Valtor as a very consuming man. A trait, that hadn't disappeared throughout all the years of their partnership and now still seemed to influence her. She couldn't bring herself to control her circling thoughts.

The unwelcome twitch in her chest became stronger again and she dove into another memory.

"What do you mean "Attack Domino"? I thought, the goal was to secure the dragon flame. To keep her. Not to eradicate the planet!" A woman's voice. Frustrated and angry.

"And it is. But did you seriously think that Marion and Oritel would watch without fighting, how we stole the most powerful force of the universe from them?" A manly voice. Calm, but off.

"Of course, I'm aware of that. But never, NEVER had it been mentioned, that we would rip the planet apart! There are other possibilities too! We're dragging millions of innocent people to their deaths here!" Screamed the voice loudly.

"That's the sacrifice to be made if we want to reach our goals." Cold, expressionless, the man's voice.

"Valtor! Are you even listening to yourself?! We always spoke of necessary sacrifices! When have we decided to slaughter people?"

"From the beginning."

"No! That's something YOU have decided! Why haven't I been informed of this plan earlier? I would've never-"

"What would you have never? Joined us? Stood by me? Helped us? Hmm?" Enraged, the man's voice.

"I'm not a murderer, Valtor."

"No, you're not, Griffin. But a coward. Everything we do, what we've ever done, was for our goal. To become the most powerful wizard and the most powerful witch. King and Queen of the magic dimension! That's what you wanted! What WE want!" Said the man energetically.

"I wanted freedom. Lightheartedness. The right to live. Justice. But not for the price of whole kingdoms!"

"That's of no use. I'll go now and give you time. And you will come to your senses. We'll talk about this again later."

"Valtor-!"

Griffin gasped for air. Hectically, she whipped her head to the side just to realize, that she was indeed, still in her office and not on Obsidian. The painful twitch in her chest wandered to her knees, making them so very weak. Her lips quivered tensely. The last memory hurt wholly different from the first. Since it was her last, joint memory with Valtor. One day after this argument, she had left the coven. Betrayed, Valtor would probably say now.

And he'd be right. She had betrayed the coven. She had betrayed the old three, her allies, the wizards of the black circle…everyone. Her own race. Him. She had betrayed him. Something, she was 200% sure, he would never forgive her for. Valtor was a patient man. Something, one wouldn't give to him upon seeing his impulsive, unchained, and almost stubborn way of being. But once he had a goal, he could work for it almost leisurely, so long as he achieved said goal. With this exact patience, he had taught her dozens of spells, had pulled her ever so softly into his world, and had shown her things, she hadn't even been aware of. And with this patience he would make her suffer, that much Griffin was sure of.

She felt the rain before she even heard it. Thick droplets crashed into her window, hidden by the curtains. She barely had time to register more of the weather when the twitching intensified again. An inner feeling told her, that the memory to come would be the heaviest.

"Griffin? Griffin, you little witch, where are you again? We still need to go over the plan for the next mission. I doubt that the Duke of Coldville is going to open his doors for us just like that…! Griffin! I- What are you doing there?" Amusement. The man's voice.

"Eh? Oh, um, nothing." The woman's voice. Hectic. The arms crossed behind the back.

"Mhm, nothing then. So, then it's nothing you're holding in your hands, which is why you're also hiding nothing behind your back?" Raised, an enquiring eyebrow.

"Exactly. Could you come back again in like 5 minutes?"

"Excuse me? Oh well, if you'd prefer. But only if I'll get to see what you've got in your hands. This 'nothing'."

"Mhm, sure. Will do."

...

"So, show me already. What have you got there?" The manly voice, curious.

"A little present. For you." Slightly shy.

"A present?" Inquisitive, the masculine voice.

"As revanche. For the necklace." The feminine voice. Outstretched in her hand, a curved, golden S.

"Griffin-"

"Twin necklaces. I enchanted it with a spell. Is the wearer in danger then it's going to glow red. The war is one day going to find its end and we won't be standing next to each other all the time…It's…It's a simple precaution on my part, if- if one of us gets hurt- I mean, we can't allow our ranks to shrink- and-"

"Griffin."

"And well, so I just thought, it would help and-"

"Griffin."

"And well-"

"Griffin!" Somewhat louder, the masculine voice.

"Huh? Yes?"

"Thank you." An honest smile. The necklace around the neck.

"Do you like it? I can also change it, I'm not sure if you're much of a jewelry type-"

"Griffin! You talk too much." A grin. His hand on her chin. A kiss.

...

A little while later.

A bed. On top, two people. Illuminating, a soft light.

"Good night, love."

A little scream of despair built up in her throat, wanted to forcefully break out of her. She slammed her hand on her mouth hastily, letting the yell quieten down to a barely audible sob.

It hurt. It hurt so unbelievably much. This horrendous twitching raced through her body toward her heart, held it captured in an iron grip, and burned, burned so horrifyingly painful as if a wild fire was raging inside her. She was already hearing the irony laughing in her face. It burned so ghastly. Just like his fire. His fire, which was capable of burning down whole cities, of leaving marks like no other, that could wipe whole landmarks off the map. His fire, so incredibly furious, those flames, that would lick wrathfully at everything that dared to stand in their way. This fire, from the dragon himself and still gifted with an almost uncanny softness.

Griffin wheezed because it burned, her heart stood in flames and this cursed twitching didn't want to stop, it ripped at her heart and it hurt, God, it hurt so goddamn much, and now finally, finally did she realize what this gross twitching was. Her head hammered, drumbeats on her temples, and a wild heartbeat in her chest. Sorrow. This twitching was sorrow.

Sorrow, that stemmed from a feeling she had let herself forget, a feeling she had buried under layers of hate and banished with all the other emotions. This feeling, this sentiment, grabbed at her insides, she threatened to rip apart, it hurt so badly, and now it was too much. She sobbed and the tears she had damned to freeze broke out of their rigor and a single one dared to roll down her cheek. She had wanted to forget this feeling. And more so the reason for it. But now it was back, after 17 years.

Love. It was love.

She loathed it so dearly. She didn't want to admit it, let herself times and times believe that it was hate, that glowered so passionately inside her. Yet it wasn't, the lie uncovered. And if she had felt exposed before, then she felt naked now, left at the mercy of her very own self, waiting for the punishment she knew was going to come any time soon. And it came.

With a hint of self-loathing she thought back to how this fire could sway her to sleep, how those strong arms felt around her waist, his scent of tart mint, rustical forest, and a dash of cinnamon, how those lips, so often pulled into a grin, could lay themselves so unbelievably soft on her lips and those eyes, those icy blue eyes, in which a fire so hot raged and sometimes for her all alone.

In front of her inner eye, she saw his apartment, the stuff in it memorabilia of his personality. She saw the Magix of twenty years ago, the progress of the city, she saw her room on Obsidian, nothing but a witch's kitchen with a bed and she saw his old house, a monument of the arts. She saw her younger self, eagerly on tour through the long hallways of this house, how her hands traced the old, battered walls, her heels, echoing on the priceless marble floor and that library, filled with an abundance of knowledge; past, present, and future, written, found, and stolen all the same. And she remembered his chambers. The dark curtains, the closet full of little magic potions, the bedside table with the open flame as a light source, and this huge, king-sized bed with the pillows of golden silk and the sheets of burgundy satin.

Her traitorous heart skipped a beat as she recalled having laid on that bed, her lilac hair spread like a fan, her tiny body, completely defenseless, sunken in the sheets, he above her, fully unclothed, the strawberry blonde hair caressing his shoulder and his hands on her hips. How those unholy lips marked her body, bathed her in fire, and how he taught her, what real passion truly was. So much, that she believed in said night, to have never been closer to the stars.

Griffin pretty much flew out of her chair, as if it was cursed, as if it persuaded her to remain imprisoned in gruesome memories. She needed to get out of this office. Everything was too much at once and this room gave her the feeling of suffocating. With a quick swing of her wrist, she started glowing with a green aura and teleported herself to her chambers. Having arrived there, she basically ripped off her dress and jumped into the shower, as if the water was going to wash away her worries and pain. She put on a dark kimono made of satin and walked back into her room. Distracted, she glanced at the big, tall mirror that stood right of the only window in the room.

Little water droplets flew from her hair onto the carpet floor. Slowly, she let the kimono fall to the ground. She scanned her own reflection. The years had left their traces but many a man would say that behind all the lies and deception, she was still looking into the eyes of a gorgeous woman here. Beautiful, but marked.

Marked by fights and spells. Hated ones and loved ones. Marked. By him.

Dozens of fine, almost silver lines graced her pale skin. Little souvenirs of all the adventures she had put herself through. Scars, that told of loss as much as of victory. But mostly of strength. Little wrinkles on her face, little curves on her hips, that told of the past years and the steady flow of time. And nestled to the arch of her breasts, beneath her collarbones, a calligraphy of purple. A little V, surrounded by elaborate twirls.

His mark.

Griffin gasped. She touched the little mark softly and traced the long lines. Valtor's mark glowed warmly. Even though she didn't possess an ounce of the dragon fire, it was still Valtor's mark and as such cast with his magic. That's why it pulsed almost unnoticeably with a hint of the dragon flame.

Oh, how she had once loved that mark. She had worn it with such pride. For her, it had been a symbol of belonging. With it, she was unmistakably his and everyone would know. And not once had he controlled her with it, wouldn't even have dared to think of it. For him, it was merely the artist's signature on the work of art she had been for him. In fact, it hadn't even been planned for her to be wearing this symbol. Valtor hadn't even known at first that he was capable of such a signature. It had been pure coincidence that he had stumbled over a part in one of his dark books, tried a few things here and there, and then realized that he could subdue animals and humans. To prove his theory, he had asked her back then, if he could try out this mark on her. Self-evidently, with the promise of removing it later on. Only that she hadn't wanted that. Shortly after the glow of his magic dimmed, she had fallen in love with the idea of wearing this mark, his mark. For her, it told of such intimacy, that she wouldn't have missed it. And as she saw the pride and honest joy in his eyes, she knew it was over for her anyway.

And today…today she wore chin-high collars, covered her cleavage, and avoided the beach (which she hated anyway) to not accidentally show this mark to anyone. She no longer wanted to be associated with him. Nonetheless was the symbolism of this mark almost suffocating for Griffin.

Not only did it lie directly next to her heart, where he had been home for so many years, but it was also the place, where he had lain most often. For hours he could lay with his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat in comfortable silence, while she stroked through his hair lovingly. Back then, he had told her, that it was relaxing for him when she asked him, why he enjoyed laying by her side like that. And now, this once celebrated symbol was nothing more than a bitter burn mark.

Griffin had to admit against her furious pride, that her feelings for Valtor had not changed in the slightest in the past 17 years. She loved him still. With every fiber of her dark heart. She loved him and she knew, come what may, that she would never completely stop. He was a part of her, and she would always remain a part of him. Marked by him for all eternity. Their stories were inseparably connected. You couldn't tell one of them without mentioning the other. She saw now that any running away and denying on both sides, would be totally useless. She had banished all books in her school that did so much as mention his name. She had made her own, independent name and had done everything, to not be associated with him. But eventually, all those attempts crashed and burned because of her heart, that after all those years, still began to beat faster upon hearing his name or thinking of those marvelous eyes.

Only that this love was no longer lighthearted and pure. It was dirtied by shame and loathing, layered over by hate, and drowned in the wish for revenge. They would have to fight against each other once again, that much was clear to her. Because she knew that she still loved a man she would probably never get to see like that again. She was in love with the idea of him as a friendly and passionate man. Undoubtedly, a part of him that was there. And undoubtedly, a part of him, neither she nor the rest of the world would ever get to witness again. And just like that, she would have to punish him again as the monster he could be.

With a last glance at the mark on her chest, she put her kimono back on. She didn't regret the decision of betraying Valtor and the coven back then. She didn't regret it today and hadn't either for the last 17 years. She remained convinced. Yet the price she'd had to pay for the sake of the dimension, even if it had been the right decision, was much too high. It was a price, she had never been willing to pay.

A "Lady Griffin" resounded in her head. Zarathustra. She asked about the whereabouts of her headmistress. Quickly, Griffin answered that she had enjoyed a quick shower and would soon be in her office again. Because life was moving on and she should discuss with her council of teachers which measures were to be taken to stop Valtor. That's why she conjured her usual, wine-red dress back up, remade her hair, refreshed her make-up, and took one last glance at the mirror. A cold, emotionless woman looked at her. The mask was back on.

As she walked down the long hallways of Cloudtower, she couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all. She was now on the way to devise a strategy to fight against a black wizard on a revenge course and an insane trio of witches, to save the dimension. Once again, she was en route to imprison the one person, who meant the world to her, for the sake of exactly that. Again. After 17 years.

Griffin heard fate laugh coldly down her back.