A trick. A spell. A cruel artifice meant to punish me for stealing the crown of a kingdom that is no more. I had many theories about your disappearance-I couldn't bring myself to pronounce the... other word-, none befitting a sorcerer of your caliber, but enough to keep me distracted. I'd choose a little bit of mischief over the truth any day. I'd choose you over solitude any day, even if we became enemies again. The thought of your knife against my throat is strangely comforting.
I miss you.