“It would seem that this is the end of the line for you, my old enemy.”

I speak the words softly as the green glow of healing magic fades from my tail-hand. Removing the appendage from your chest, my fingers gently close your blankly staring eyes. Really, Mrs. Do, a heart attack while dodging a paltry few falling rocks? I knew the years were catching up with you, but this…

This is not how I expected things to end. If I am to be honest with you, I had forgotten that they would end. That you, like everything else, would eventually fade away into dust, memories, and oblivion. Do you have any idea of what an accomplishment that is? To make one such as I forget, even briefly, that all things end? All the ruins you explored, all the traps you evaded, the relics you discovered, the plots you foiled.

Did you even realize that your greatest achievement was making me feel alive again?

Me, an immortal who has seen eternity. Who has watched ages pass. Who has seen his own civilization fade from life, to memory, to myth, and then to nothing. Everything my people made, every wonder we left behind, lost and forgotten.

I can still remember the day we first met. The look of shock on your face when you woke me from my slumber in that ‘Ancient Tomb of Evil.’ Did it never occur to you that despite all the dire warnings, the ominous carvings, the deadly traps and clever puzzles, there was nothing actually keeping me in my so called ‘prison?’ I will admit that my décor may have been a bit melodramatic. But its purpose was not to keep me in but to keep troublesome trespassers such as yourself out. When I constructed that place, I wished to be left alone. To wallow in my ennui and sleep away the centuries. To avoid the pointless trivialities of existence until existence itself came to an end.

Would you believe that upon awakening my first act was going to be berating you for disturbing my slumber? I would merely have cast you out, dusted off my hands, and returned to my fugue state.

But you spoke first. I can still recall your words:

“An evil monster! Jinkies! What villainy have I unleashed upon the world?”

As I am sure you’ve noticed, I have something of a flair for the dramatic. I could hardly allow a line such as that to pass! You expected a villain, so I gave you one. As overblown, megalomaniacal, and melodramatic a villain as there ever was. When I ‘fled’ my ‘prison,’ I merely planned to wander the world for a few moons. See how little of the world I once knew remained. Then return to my slumber once a certain winged house crasher had left.

But you... you followed me. Tracked me. Stalked and harassed me. So quick to leap into action! So quick to leap to conclusions! You had such fire, such passion and determination! Such drive and energy! All directed towards defeating me your nemesis.

It was magnificent!

Is it any wonder I went to such lengths to fulfil the role you set for me? The ridiculous speeches, the flawed death traps, the clueless minions? Did you truly believe the baubles I ‘sought’ meant anything to me? Watching you rescue a few small scraps the past from oblivion was the true prize.

And now you are gone. And already the world grows cold without your fire, your passion. Perhaps it is time I returned to my slumber?

“You! You killed her! You killed my mother!” And suddenly there is an angry pegasus filly before me. I had not realized you brought your daughter on this little quest.

I wish I could comfort her. Tell her that you meant as much to me as you did to her. Tell her that in the pain of your loss, we are siblings.

But I cannot.

I am the villain. That is the role you cast me in. The mantle I happily accepted and embraced over these few, short decades.

“You’re going to regret killing Mommy!” Your daughter growls at me, and I must say Mrs. Dashing Do, your daughter has certainly inherited your passion. The fire in her eyes is unquenched by the tears pouring out of them. It is difficult, giving her a proper villainous sneer.

“Miss Daring Do, I am the immortal Ahuizotl. I regret nothing.”

Perhaps sleep can wait.