Wufan hadn’t been in exile for more than a day and he was already beginning to twitch. It just wasn’t fun here. Obviously, that was the entire point of his solitude- to be miserable. To be honest, he didn’t even understand why he was there in the first place, he’d only been playing around with a human, and now he’d been tried in the Celestic Crown Court for breaching a part of his soul bound contract, what a load of royal bull.

 

In violation of point 324, part 1, falling in love with or forming emotional attachment to a mortal and/or human. 

 

If he was going to end up detained, why couldn’t it be for something that sounded like it was actually worth the imprisonment? In love with a human? He laughed spitefully at the thought of it. Evidently, nobody knew how to have any fun around here. 

 

His room was a square. It was empty, desolate and colourless. Not a window nor door on the walls or a chair for him to sit on. It barely deserved to be given the title of room at all. He sighed, leaning backwards on his arms, feet spread out in front of him as he looked up at the nothingness masquerading as a ceiling. He decided he was far too superior to be given the floor as a seat, so within the blink of an eye, he was reclining comfortably on an elaborate, black, leather couch. It would do the job for now, at least. 

 

It didn’t take him long to grow restless and in need of entertainment, even with a comfortable couch beneath him. He rolled over, hanging off of the side of the loveseat as he faced the dirt floor. It was pretty grimy, so with the minimalistic flourish of his hand, a Persian rug rolled out across the first meter affront the couch. Mumbling under his breath, lips barely moving, he held his hand over the rug and slowly moved it in a circular motion until the centre of the rug gave way to a glass circle, oval like, in fact. It was pointed at the sides, glittering in the non-existent light, presenting him with whatever he wanted to see.  An eye for an eye; his window to the world below.

 

There was no doubt, to Wufan, that he was being monitored during his period of exile. As were his actions and powers of the like. Inside his room, though, no matter now he manipulated it, he would be left to his own devices. He already missed being able to walk below, despite the fact the majority of his kind preferred to work from their own realm above the clouds, he liked to cause as much mischief as he could and witness it first-hand. Of course, his elders knew that very well, which is why his punishment was to be served away from the planet he spent so many of his years on. 

 

Within the first three days, Wufan’s prison was vast in size, going on for miles as he constructed what he could with all of his time, having nothing better to do. Of course, he would keep an eye on the world below him, monitoring certain things. He was glad his new project was keeping him busy, the more it grew and flourished under his own hand, the more he felt himself ignite within. He had many years racked up behind him, he was nearing his third century, despite which still made him the youngest amongst his kind. He was young, but with many ideas the older ones wouldn’t dare to think of. He stood in the centre of his room, on the large, glass eye, almost reaching ten meters in diameter. Legs spread in his powerful stance, he glanced down, the cool, cloudy and tainted glass beneath him changing under his own watch, the blueprint he’d etched into his mind coming to life. 

 

The walls were lined with dark, dusty and worn brick, the room still dank and lifeless, various stones worked through the floor for as far as Wufan could see. He’d already begun splitting up the room into sections, building in the walls were he saw fit, going by his makeshift blue print which was altered and changed constantly. His eyes flickered from wall to wall, to the floor, to the wall once more, his mind racing as he remained focused. Nothing could stop him once his mind was set on something, and set on something it was. Until his ears pricked- the shrill sound of beeping sending chills down his spine. He slammed his fist onto the floor below, spreading a small eye on the floor, swiping furiously to find the location. He watched as the machine beeped violently, the lifeless body at its side remaining unmoving as the doctors flooded in. 

 

Wufan drove his fist into the glass, shards dissolving into the air, the eye disappearing instantly. It was going too far, and for that, he’d show them. Not before he had some fun, though. He grinned to himself, chest rising, falling. He ran his hand along the floor beside him, collecting the dust in his hands before raising it to his lips and blowing, dust collecting before his eyes. The steps formed from the dust and kept growing until it merged with the second dust cloud Wufan had blown to match it. He slowly, step by step, one foot after another, ascended the stone staircase until he reached the top.

 

Where water was needed, Wufan parted the rock and allowed it to trickle in by the delicate movements of his fingers before getting bored and with a swift clench of a fist watched it pour in via storm-worthy tidal wave. Trees would grow in sequence, following the movements of his hands, eyes never moving from the area of concentration. Mountains would form, articulate indents to create the most complicated of dank, underground caves. Wufan’s eyes twinkled as he outstretched his hand, palm up, the other tracing it with his thumb, a river forming in the directions he guided it with his hands. With a quick, downward motion, bricks and stones would fall, walls materializing under his watchful eye as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards just a little.

 

His eyes cast out to the vast room before him, which could no longer be given the title of room at all; a vast wind picking up, soon billowing around him, his loose sweater being blown violently from side to side as his hair propelled in all directions; he let out a harsh, cold laughter.  His being was blazing with hunger and lust for trouble, and that’s just what he would create. After all, in these three days he’d created something so spectacular, something so intense, that he felt a pleasured chill run through him as he admired his work; his labyrinth. 

 

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Here, have this... I don't even know what this is so make off what you will.