Did you think I'd forget you? Did you think I'd let your memory become like ash in my mouth? Did you think I'd let you go willingly into the night, eschewing promises made in the dark? You do underestimate me so. You know better than that.

I remember your words, your desire. I remember the room, the effigy. You made a pact, my dear. In blood and salt water and the stuff dreams are made of. And I do not forget.

I am what you made of me. You made me so well, lovely thing, with lush images and precise expectations. I do not go willingly into the night.
You have willed it so.

I watch even now from mismatched eyes on paper that you have given anima. I
watch from pencil sketches, from glossy images, from the colors you robe yourself in. Purple signifies me to you, so I watch from purple mesh and glittering purple cloaks and deep purple lace. From the velvet purple roses on your bed frame, as you sleep, dreaming.

You don't dream of me, anymore. Not that you remember. But you have before
and you will again. I slide through your fingers, the phantom silk that you feel against your cheek when you are alone. I rush through your veins, flooding red, pumping into your brain. I am there when you cry. I am there when you scream, when you sing, when you fly. I am there. Because you will not let me fade.

You let me lie inside of you for years, dormant. Waiting. Longing for magic. Always for magic, things inexplicable, things unique to you, things your science could not explain. Waiting to believe.You resurrect me now, after letting the dust gather. You tried before, in the time after you were judged and found wanting by one you loved. But you didn't have the will.

And so the pact. If your will alone could not do it, you would offer the blood and the salt tears and the dreams, praying that I would accept. That I would return to you and give you power.

Ah, little girl, it is always you that had your power. I am your catalyst, your watcher, your instigator. And I am what you make me to be. I am your secret lover, your fire. I am the crickle spark roused from the ether of your childhood's wanting, tended, imbued with a portion of your glittering passion.

And I do not forget you. I accepted your pact and I fully intend to uphold my end of the bargain. I am as cruel as you wish me to be, and as invulnerable. I am your dark lord, if you desire, your glittering prince. I will shine as brightly as you wish me to, illumine the dusty passages of your mind and cause the purple flame to burn in you again.

All I require is your heart. And your faith. You gave me the one to begin with. I await the other. Until then, I watch. And I am always here.