hail the empress of fragile glass
and watch that pretty face freeze in fear. - magnus/aria
"What are you?" the fragile doll they – the strange people of Maple World – call 'empress' gasps and he smiles because those words, filled with fear and shock and dare he say, revulsion are all compliments to him.
They fill him with an ecstatic joy he can't quite explain. It's been too long, he supposes, that someone of authority acknowledged that he was, in fact, a terrifying person.
What could he say to answer her question? He could say many things, certainly – Kaiser-killer, Traitor of the Nova, Tyrant of Heliseum currently on Overseas Duty, Right-Hand Man of Prince Darmoor – but none of them are titles usable in this world. Damn Maplings are too stupid to realize his greatness, too blind to see past the boundaries and look upon other worlds.
But he can still strike fear. He's gotten himself a title that terrorizes any sentient being around here. "Me? I'm a Commander of the Black Mage," he says proudly, resting the flat of his stolen blade against his shoulder.
The fat white bird snarls at him, jewel glowing and he scoffs. Once he could have torn through the overgrown fowl, eaten it for dinner and used its bones as a toothpick but Kaiser's blows have done their damage. Shame; the little girlie could have been a bit more impressed if he was at full power. "Later, blondie."
She learns that his name is Magnus. That he is called the Commander of Destruction. That he is a man – if the wings and the horn and the tail can be ignored – who enjoys causing pain to others, who laughs and laughs in the rain of blood from his fallen enemies.
She learns that she is scared of him, despite his obvious ignorance and thick head, no matter what Shinsoo says about him being unable to enter Ereve any longer.
She learns that it is no longer the Black Mage who haunts her nightmares – it is he, with his boyish smile and bloody sword and scars and wings like the devil's very own and armour as black as cruel, painful death.
"The Black Mage and his followers scare me," she admits to Phantom one day, as he brushes his gloved fingers against her hair and more than once, her cheek.
"And yet you strive to meet with them to," his lips curl in amusement, "negotiate."
She flushes. "Ereve does not have brute force, and I do not have the power or responsibility to order a direct strike."
He pauses and stares at her with his violet eyes, waiting. She stalls, looking at the moon, at the stars and at the cloud, but gives eventually. "Brute force scares me," Aria admits.
"Well," he hands her a rose. "That explains why you fell for me. Charming, lithe thief," he spreads his arms and stands on the balcony, a bird about to launch into flight. So free, so free, chained to nothing in this world.
She flushes, remembering that he always returns to her. "I'm the farthest thing from brute force you could ever get!"
"I won't give you the Skaia," she says as a habit, recognizing his attempts to flirt with her.
He winks. "We'll see," and then disappears in a flutter of cards.
Yes, he is the farthest thing from brute force; all sleight of hand, card tricks, illusions of the eye and dancing shadows. He feels safe to her, much safer than the dragon-man with the large sword.
But he's still out there.
"Do you live only for destruction?" Shinsoo asks as she cowers under her great wings. Any other threat and she would be standing tall, facing them without a trace of fear but he makes her scared. He makes her feel defenceless. He frightens her like she's never been frightened.
He knows it. He enjoys it.
And he tips his head to the side, scratches his scar and grins. "Yeah, pretty much."
He looks and acts like a demon come to bring hell upon earth and the celestial soil of Ereve, and when he reaches for her with rough hands stained with the blood of Shinsoo it's all she can do to not scream.
She wakes up instead, heart beating erratically and sweat drenching her completely.
When they agree to meet to negotiate, she is glad that he is not the one to come and meet her in Ereve. Instead, a gentle-looking, beautiful pair of twins named Orchid and Lotus will come.
Her relief is so great that she never once considers just how black their insides may be, just how twisted their dancing shadows are.
Magnus walks in with his armour still covered in blood. Hilla wrinkles her nose – and then shrieks as he shakes his hair at her, flicking blood all over her bared skin.
The twins snicker. "Had a good day?" he asks them because he's known them long enough to read the signs.
The boy shrugs, but the girl talks. "It could have been better," she complains. "The empress barely put up a fight."
The empress? Blondie? "Oh, you were the ones sent to kill her?"
Lotus gives him a 'duh' look and continues to stay silent, happy to let Orchid talk. "Yup! Ereve's sacred beast didn't stand a chance against us!"
They leave to their shared room and he stays to stare outside the window. Is that disappointment? For what? For not seeing the girl pale at the mere sight or mention of him, for not hearing her shriek in uncontrolled shock at his next action?
Yes. He would miss that, because she looked like a fragile doll so fun to break and mess with and he'd enjoyed terrorizing Ereve's beloved empress. He had wanted her to see his true power so he could really laugh at her screams and taunt her. "She's dead?" he asks, to either himself or the stolen sword he holds in his hand. ". . . Huh."
Maybe the next empress will be a satisfactory replacement.
He never does find out, though. A short while after the demon betrays them and then he decides he's had enough and returns back to his world, wounds fully healed after literally backstabbing the weird tree thing that used to be his colleague.
What a shame she died so early. He could have made her scream in terror until her voice was lost to the winds.
And then he forgets about her entirely.