I Am the Villainess

Chapter XXIII: Isolation

Delora materialized within the heart of the dense forest, her form materializing seamlessly from the fabric of reality. This particular location held a secret purpose; it was where she had once concealed her second Wrunix, a contingency against potential adversity that might befall her primary companion.

Her lips tightened in focused determination, fingers unconsciously tracing the corner of her mouth as a sharp whistle sliced through the tranquil expanse. She lifted her gaze skyward, eyes fixed on the open expanse above, awaiting the response she had invoked.

The forest's quietude was soon disturbed by the distant sound of wings, a symphony of immense proportions as they cleaved through the air. Another screech followed, heralding the arrival of the massive creature – a male Wrunix, towering in stature compared to its lost female counterpart. Gender accounted for the noticeable difference in size, the male's formidable proportions dwarfing the memory of the fallen female.

Recognition gleamed in the creature's golden eyes as it approached Delora without hesitation, an unspoken connection reaffirmed. Delora extended her hand, her gesture commanding the Wrunix to halt its advance. The beast complied, providing her an opportunity to scrutinize the companion she hadn't laid eyes upon in a year.

The Wrunix stood, its blue scales glinting in the light, a living reflection of the snow's brilliance. Delora's purpose led her here, a place she had visited before, where the creature rested—a contingency plan for darker times. What had begun as an exploration of her abilities had now shifted into a defined objective.

With a sense of assurance, Delora's thoughts turned inward, recalling the evolution of her relationship with these creatures. Her initial interactions had been marked by curiosity, an uncharted territory she had delved into. Yet, with the passage of time, her connection with them had grown into something more calculated, more strategic. The Wrunix before her became an embodiment of that progression.

Amidst these reflections, another layer of thoughts stirred. Her mind wandered toward her father's recent actions, seeking refuge under Baron Tullig's sheltering wing, a choice Delora viewed as an act of cowardice. John Lovell's stature and wealth were overshadowed by the strength and mastery his own children held. Delora's own power, forged through determination and an intense animosity, far surpassed anything her father could wield. She found herself harboring a mixture of disdain and disgust for him—a man who traded substance for superficial titles and empty affluence.

With a firm resolution, Delora recognized the stark contrast between her own resilience and her father's feebleness. The memories of her past, the injustices she had endured at the hands of such individuals, fueled her determination. Now, circumstances had shifted, the oppressors rendered insignificant before her newfound might.

Drawing her focus back to the present, Delora's gaze returned to the Wrunix, a powerful creature that stood as a testament to her journey. A melodic screech emanated from the creature before Delora's command resonated with authority as she instructed the Wrunix to lower itself onto the snowy terrain.

"Down," Delora's command boomed forth, her voice carrying both authority and familiarity. The Wrunix inclined its head, a momentary lapse in memory giving way to ingrained instruction. Before long, it surrendered to her command, its massive form settling onto the ground, a display of remarkable obedience.

Delora closed the distance between them, her hand sweeping gently over the Wrunix's neck, her fingers getting gently pricked by the sharp scales. With a swift motion of her hand, her eyes were placed toward the illusion she conjured with practiced in front of them. An image resembling Corbeau stood beside a tree further back. A word was all that was needed, an authoritative directive. "Attack."

A deep gurgle emanated from within the creature's throat, swiftly giving way to a torrent of viridescent flames erupting from its gaping maw. The illusion of Corbeau was consumed by the blazing emerald fire, its fierce heat washing over Delora's face, countering the external chill.

Delora observed this spectacle, a mixture of pride and necessity within her gaze. The creature's abilities were not merely a spectacle; they were an integral component of the alliance she sought to forge. The flames eventually subsided, the Wrunix's visage oscillating briefly before fixating upon Delora, its golden eyes holding an unwavering connection with hers.

As a final acknowledgment, Delora ordered its departure, her hand gently caressing its scaled neck. The Wrunix responded with a powerful launch into the sky, its screech echoing into the distance as it receded from view.

Without wasting a minute, Delora's form dissolved from the forest, reappearing within the confines of her room, her gaze drawn to the remnants of her earlier activities. The pentagram etched in her blood and the book rested on the floor, vestiges of a significant moment. Swiftly, she summoned the book to her hand, its weight a reminder of the gravity of what she had done earlier.

Emotionless, her mind a tranquil void, Delora left her room and ventured into the mansion's corridors. As she closed her door, the sight of Elva – a figure of loyalty – caught her attention. Clad in a pile of clothes, Elva bowed upon Delora's entrance, her presence emblematic of the staff's unwavering dedication.

"Elva, deliver this message to all within the estate: Effective immediately, you are relieved of your duties. Departure before day's end is permitted." A bemused astonishment glimmered in Elva's eyes, her comprehension lagging behind the abrupt announcement. "This directive extends to you as well."

Leaving behind a perplexed Elva, Delora descended the stairwell, her purpose unwavering. She flung open the door leading to the mansion's grand library, a room embodying her quest for knowledge. With measured precision, she returned the book to its designated place, its significance acknowledged in her determined actions.

In this decisive moment, Delora's thoughts converged. Her actions echoed the realization that trust had withered, replaced by a chilling necessity for self-reliance. Betrayal was an inevitability she had come to anticipate. Resolute and unyielding, she embraced a persona shrouded in darkness – the role of the villain. In the complex dance of manipulation and strategy, Delora understood that meticulous attention to detail would be her ultimate armor.