Her nightmares are simple, yet complex. She dreams of Asgard, glowing beautifully in the starlight: once her home, now a memory fading fast.
She hates Midgard; its simplicities; it’s complexities. Nothing makes sense. How people can be so malleable yet strong willed?
She used to dream of invading Asgard after taking over this Odin forsaken rock. Now Asgard invades her: her thoughts, her dreams, her nightmares.
There is a moment that plays on repeat in her mind as she sleeps: “You are banished to Midgard for your crimes against Asgard.”
Oh, how she wishes to see Odin on his knees, begging, pleading for death as she had.
But he did not give her death. No, death was too simple. And for the harm Amora caused (at his own orders, his threats) she now lives in remembrance of her torture.
She begged.
She pleaded.
Never had the Enchantress pleaded before.
But now, finished with begging and pleading, the Enchantress would have what she wanted; what she could not have before. She would tear this world and its “heroes” apart.
And then she would take what was hers. It would be simple, yet complex.
And all she would need is time.