- Aecercylle - Portrait of a Villain.

"Why didn't you just leave?"
  Her question hangs in the air, and she can see the images flashing behind his eyes.  A world of peace birthed from conformity.  A people clothed in pure, blinding white.  A secluded island floating on the horizon.  It used to be their home: this city built on ruins, this place where war trapped all the people inside one mind.  The bloodshed brought them to believe that the only way to harmony was the destruction of individuality.
  Shards of her own memories begin to seep in.  She sees a pristine shore where the tide never varied.  The water always stretched onto the sand and retreated in the same pattern; there was no high tide, only the clockwork of waves.
  It would seem peaceful to the stranger.  To her, it was a prison.
  "Leaving wasn't enough," says Daasen.  "You know what they do to the ones who are different.  You of all people.  If I'd left, they would have just forgotten me and continued about their madness.  I had to be stronger.  I had to make them remember me."
  I guess that's always been the difference between you and me, she muses.  You, the strategist, and me, wild as the wind.
  "Well, you've got what you want," says Aecercylle through gritted teeth.  "No one can possibly forget you now."
  There's no mistaking the condescension dripping from her words.  Daasen hears it and jerks on the thick net around her abdomen.  Aecercylle's vision darkens for a moment as her breath is sucked away.  She chokes and struggles for air, pressing against the ropes.  Above her, Daasen is smiling.  It's a smile that shows more in his eyes than his lips, and it makes Aecercylle shiver, as though ice has been planted in her heart.  But she locks eyes with him, never backing down for a moment.
  "You never wanted to be the special one.  You wanted to be the only one."
  Daasen halts, his smile falling.  He stands there and pierces her with his stare.  After a long moment, he unfolds his hands from behind his back and steps towards her.  Aecercylle steels herself for the wrath that she knows is coming.
  Bring your worst, she thinks.  Just get it over with and kill me.  Maybe then you'll realize what monster you've become.
  But her tormentor says nothing.  He simply reaches to the wall and knocks.  The moment he does, a huge door lifts up into the ceiling, letting daylight flood the cell.  The sound of a throng, chanting and cheering, rises into the air.  Aecercylle cringes against the harsh light.
  "It's time to see your friends again," says Daasen.