A portion of Cersie’s power was on full display. His control over the elements of wind and rain. The ability to manipulate them in their various forms was a remarkable feat in and of itself, but it was the quality of the magic that was truly astounding. He could turn snow to rain in an instant, create a warm summer breeze or bring forth a bitter winter wind like it was absolutely nothing. It was no wonder the witches of this world placed so much value upon them... elementals. Iseulith was out of his depth and it electrified him with an unrivaled sort of excitement. This being was like nothing he had witnessed before. Even his first foray into his own abilities as a young mortal boy had not been as breathtaking.<br/><br/><i><br/>
‘You’re terrifying and powerful yourself.’ ... ‘Like a black mamba.”</i>Iseulith’s gaze remained pointed at the remarks. It was true that the chasm between his own abilities and those of his kin was vast. Each vampire held their own unique quirks, but none had managed to contend with him. It was the one thing that had contributed to his very old age and indeed his loneliness. He was a peerless and childless fool to them, a dangerous combination of long lost prehistory magical ability and eternal vampirism. Perhaps they saw him as a threat, but more likely they saw him as something that did not belong in their world and in truth he felt himself quite detached from it, regardless of his attempts to maintain appropriate appearance. He did have his own needs after all, magic or no magic.<br/><br/><br/>The vampire watched as Cersie healed his other scarred hand, eyes alight with curiosity about the pain the other felt. Pain... another sensation. He knew the feeling despite not having felt it in truth for many centuries. It was something that left an unusual mark on the psyche; the blight of a memory that never truly faded. It was during the Witch Wars when it last graced him in its truest form. He averted his eyes. “I do not believe in ... flukes. The only thing that truly matters is the power of will and what you make of it.” came his quiet reply, “You merely needed the tools necessary to complete the task.”<br/><br/><br/>Iseulith glanced around the room and smiled gently, “The beauty of these sorts of spaces is that they never require any cleaning. Nothing here actually exists save the baubles, and they are easily replaceable.” This was not an entirely true statement, however. The real artifacts that decorated a few of the internal rooms were priceless from a historical sense. Iseulith merely did not place as much value on them and would see them replaced with other treasures gathered over such great spans of time. “Besides, I prefer a great rending storm over a dull evening of quiet familiars and the fearfogged blood of some meager and randomly selected human.” He traced a thumb over Cersie’s lip and made no further comment on the matter of his leaving come morning. “I will certainly take a bath with you if that is what you desire.”<br/><br/><br/>The instant the words left his lips, a door opened in the distant shadows, gliding open on polished hinges to reveal yet another posh bathroom full of completely unnecessary accoutrements and bathing supplies. Iseulith was certainly partial to overly large claw foot tubs, this one pure black with gleaming brass feet, spouts and faucet. “Lead the way my Charm.” He whispered as he pinched the man square on his rear.<br/><br/><br/>Iseulith could see the conflicted and warring emotions within his ward, could perhaps feel them as his own to some degree. This meant the bond was working in his favor. It would not have made sense for the man to trust him fully, but the fact that he couldn’t remember exactly what there was to fear so entirely was a good signifier that his methods were working. The vampire was skilled at weaving many kinds of illusions, even those that did not require magic and the fact that the elemental had taken to him so quickly was a delightful treat to say the very least.<br/><br/><br/>“Why does a vampire do anything?” He offered when questioned and snapped his fingers as if to distract Cersie from his own thoughts. Another door opened at the beckoning noise as Utaa entered, incased in his innocuous human form. He carried with him fresh clothing which he set aside in order to prepare the bath in the secondary room. Cixathe did not enter. He merely stood and watched from the other side of the door as it slid closed, a shiny glass snake in between his fingers. He did not smile, not exactly. It was more or less his usual frenetic smirk held beneath malicious eyes as he swept a human tongue over his lips in some sort of devious display before the door closed on his backlit image beyond its frame.<br/><br/><br/>“I suppose the most appropriate answer would be that we always do as we please. My brothers and sisters are all just as selfish as I. It is part of our curse... the inability to see beyond our own desires.” He laughed with amusement before looking into the man’s unearthly blue eyes. There he could see an endless expanse of time... of power... of life eternal. Cersie was a complete circle, a being who was whole and forever. Who was unbroken. True infinity...<br/><br/><br/>Iseulith drew closer to the elemental, sought to wrap him in his arms, to slither around him with serpentine grace. “What I desire right now, more than anything ... is you, Cersie. Unequivocally. It leaves me with little other purpose.” He sighed against the man’s steam kissed skin as it wafted from the bath. “I think that perhaps you mean more to me than you should... like something I’ve been looking for a very long time to find. Like something I refused death for...”<br/><br/><br/>A sharp chill ran the length of the vampire’s spine, like nothing he had ever felt before. Not even in life, as meager a thing it had been. It ripped through him like an errant charge, like lightning, but it was not lightning at all. It was something bright and searing hot like a star. It pressed against his curse with the brilliant white glow of a thousand branding irons and caused his body to shudder with a sudden and debilitating weakness. He gasped and his fingers flexed into sharp claws as he crashed to his knees on the floor, doubling over. Utaa was at his side a moment later attempting to raise his master but the ancient pushed him harshly away. His face had morphed at least partially into something unrecognizable. Glistening obsidian scales and a maw full of needle thin gnashing teeth.<i>“Itrewic mojka!”</i>he hissed and touched his head to the cool tiled floor, two distinct lids folding over brilliant ruby eyes as he shut them tightly in concentration. The flash of pain left him and the knots of heat within ebbed and dissipated as suddenly as they had rushed into being.<br/><div class="bbCodeSpoiler">
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">“Get away!”</div>
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</div><br/><br/>In a similar fashion, the room around them had swayed violently as the illusory properties rippled in response to the sudden inflections. The vampire held out a hand to steady his magic as they were in fact hands once more, instead of flesh rending claws.<br/><br/><br/>“Strange...” Iseulith whispered, tossing back his head, his face completely normal and at ease once more as if nothing had in fact happened. He even seemed to have just the hint of a smile to his pale lips and his dark hair hung messily over his shoulders and face. “It seems that there are limitations that perhaps even I should not be testing so carelessly.”