Well that was a waste of pre-planned excuses, wasn't it?
Evelynn didn't get an opportunity to explain that wandering into the chambers of a practising sadomasochist of a Sorceress was by and large a bad idea for anybody. No discrimination between Nemene's best slave and the bottom of the barrel, although, she was the bottom of the barrel and if Evelynn had somehow managed to intrude upon herself then there was some pretty wicked magic going on.
She seized, expecting her world to end right there and then in that moment but when the woman's fingers started moving in that labyrinthine fashion by their own volition she realised that this was going to be a different game.
Summon fear.
Her apparition appeared, and who else was it going to be but Evelynn herself, she could have predicted that for you. She stared at herself, well, her former self, right back at the beginning. All the way back to Dantooine, the awkward mousy girl with the golden hair. For a second there was nothing but stillness, both forms of the girl staring back at each other in silence.
Then the spectre's face began to twist, she began to cry, blood began to seep through her plain garments from her chest, her arms.
“...w-w-w-what...if.....shhhh-sh-she duh-duh-doesn't...”
The reflection moved in stop motion, face twisting in grief and terror, a fine cut appearing on the throat of the girl she relived her moment of silence from the standpoint of spectator. Evelynn herself remained unmoving face unchanging as she observed the figment grow pale, tired and frail.
“T-th-there's more to life than r-revenge.”
A blink.
“I can still f-forgive. I-I-I can still f-fff-forget.”
Had she said that? Had she believed that? Oh these were times long past. This was scarcely the same person. However the apparition was ever shifting, growing darker, scars appearing everywhere but her face, that hollow face with the smirk growing clearer.
Will you have me hung? Will you have my head? Death does not frighten me. But you will beg for it.
A brief respite, perhaps the happiest days of Evelynn's existence, if happiness was even the term for it. The height of terror, the height of masochism, the height of her love for the bond sister she now despised so. The memories were getting louder now, with the illusion screaming these snippets of the past at her. Tell me what to feel.
You say in one breath that you would take me away. Then in the next dismiss me. Oh, you could have helped me, but what a waste it would have been.
Even in her days of glory she was tragic. Unhappy. Perfectly aware of what had happened in her life, knowing that she was helpless to prevent it, but still the Evelynn of the now that stood there transfixed was not screaming in horror for it all to stop, because fear held a different meaning to the woman.
Then came a more jarring memory. The reflection grew ill, the crippling taste of poison doled out by the closest hand. The already anaemic girl almost faded away into nothing.
...I don't want to be weak again.
Oh, that was a wicked tragedy. The red began to spill from the nose of the girl as the poison took a hold of the reflection, the bones in her legs beginning to break and fracture one-by-one, a jarring image with white shards protruding from flesh and cloth.
NEMENE?! WHAT'S HAPPENING?!
She witnessed the damp spread once more, her lowest point, or so she had thought. Oh no, her unfortunate urination was a throne atop a mountain compared to the situation called Evie.
Kill me, Nemene.
Then came Evelynn's final ascent, the last time that she was to be on top of the world, on top of her life. They were getting close now. Closer and closer to the present day Evelynn that we all knew, loathed and pitied. Oh, she was so weak, so stupid. What a waste.
Oh, sister. You shouldn't hide that pretty face.
Evelynn might have granted Nemene a sidewards glance at that remark, surely that was a fond memory of hers too but no, she still stood, not running nor screaming, still staring, still blank, still waiting for the grand finale.
Please, Nemene! I'm sorry! I'M SORRY!
Soon.
Not this. Not this. Sister! Not this!
Forgive me!
The illusion screeches were deafening, her face the very picture of absolute horror as they relived the emotion of the beast slaughter. Evelynn was yet to budge. Had she died upon the spot? No. No. Here it came. The expression of terror mingled with dread melted away into a vacant stare. Hello, Evie.
Yesss, Goddesss...
Almost there.
The illusion began to shift and change before her very eyes, the scars that had so proudly been worn across her flesh faded, skin becoming flawless, legs becoming perfectly-able once more, body filling out, hair turning brown, her entire facial structure shifting before her eyes into now. Into this.
“Thank you, Mistress,”
That was only ten minutes ago. They stared at each other, completely identical, faces of stone. Evelynn Dorn, this is your life. Or this will be your life. The reflection kept going, a sickening empty-headed grin spreading upon the face of the impaired little creature, head becoming stooped and servile. The figment's mesmerised blue eyes looked to Evelynn and the pitiful pet nodded.
“Evie is good. “
Fear.
“Good for Goddess.”
This was not fear.
“Everything for Goddess.”
This was the inevitable.
Finally Evelynn budged, taking slow deliberate steps towards the phantom. It wasn't the fault of the spell, it was the fault of Evelynn herself. She couldn't fear. She couldn't feel. Expression remaining blank the Sorceress walked right up to her future.
“I'm sorry,” the woman said quietly before wrapping her arms around the vision of Evie, who promptly dissipated into nothingness as the failed spell came to an end.
Evelynn stood silently, staring into the bulkhead where her reflection once stood.