This place was a monument to death and decay. A monument constructed to resemble what was once a home, to better portray the certainty of entropy. He did not look back, each boot-fall marginally faster than the previous, his very soul, what little he still retained exhorted him to flee from this macabre theater. To think he had chosen this place, the implications of that truth festered in the recesses of his mind. With a sharp and sudden grip on the hilt of his blade, the gem faceted at the center of the hand-guard flashed with a crimson glow, his eyes mirrored the expression and the result was immediately evident. A flashing twinkle of pure red light pulsed before him. Then in an instant, expanded into a large oval shape. The curtain of energy could not be seen into, it was only red, and wavered like a directed mist. Tendrils of light played at it's edges. His stride held no hesitation or delay, and with confidence he walked directly into the mysterious anomaly. His form disappeared inside, as if it was a doorway to another place and indeed it was.<br/><br/>The ebony hued stone of the Black Spire's throne room was all too familiar. As the gateway closed behind him, the faint sounds of open flame flickered in his ears from the sconces adorning the pillars and back walls. Long banisters of pure crimson cloth hung in between each support, and in a tiered assemblage behind the throne. Only the center-most banister bore a symbol. The image was an artistic rendering of a demonic visage, forked tongue extended directly down over the chin. The eyes were left blank, the crimson of the banister filled the gaps. One could postulate this intentional, as the master of this house sought one thing only, blood.<br/><br/>Arahaelon stood still as the emotional turmoil raging deep in his soul slowly began to subside, and calm. This fortress of solitude had been his place of refuge, and he now found himself thankful. His mind reeled with the implications of his meeting with the Empress. She had not looked upon him with disgust and disappointment when learning his identity. She had mere moments to consider and postulate, and had done so on the side of love. He found a smile creasing his lips, "Faira..." he openly indulged himself. His eyes closing as his imagination flourished. Behind lushly lashed lids a lifetime of courtship, of intimate moments and precious subtleties flashed before him.<br/><br/>"Faira..." though he would not have thought it possible to speak the most beautiful sound possible, and make it hideous, he was left surprised.<br/><br/>'Don't speak her name..' he said with a warning, guarded tone.<br/><br/>'She is precious to you, I know this...' the voice held genuine consideration, or seemed to.<br/><br/>'You know nothing..' he spat with venom.<br/><br/>'Oh... but I do. I am part of you. Our union is not complete... yet. Though I have scoured the depths of your soul, Arahaelon... I know you, better than any other. Even her....'<br/><br/>The demons words struck an unwelcome chord. He could not deny, as he knew them to be true. He did not love the demon he harbored, but he could not deny their relationship. He had been revealed, in a way that he had never had the chance to with, Faira. It sickened him, to share an intimacy with this creature that he had not yet shared with the one he desired most. It was her, he wished to be naked in front of. To be without cover, and exposed. He felt vulnerable now, facing this truth.<br/><br/>'What would you know of relationships, demon!' snarled the former Elven Lord in defiance. 'The only thing you desire is blood...' The hilt on his blade tightened as he accused it.. 'Endless... blood..' he said in remembrance.<br/><br/>'Perhaps... I do long for bloodshed. I savor it, unabashedly. Though I also find myself appreciative of the harbinger. It is because of you, I have gorged as I have... I thank you, Arahaelon...' Again, the words were spoken with sincerity but sat like an alien weight in Arahaelon's gut.<br/><br/>Arahaelon began to ascend the eight stairs to reach the throne. His gait betraying his subdued heart, 'I long for peace...' His words tortured and splayed with agony.<br/><br/>'I can give you peace, but you must surrender your petty sentiment and false moralities..'<br/><br/>He took his place upon the throne, his porcelain features hidden by a draped hand. As if to hide his shame and guilt. 'I cannot, my pain... my regret, is all I have...'<br/><br/><br/>++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++<br/><br/>In the pitch black of the Dark Forest, one eye could see. A disembodied eye of enlarged proportions floated high in the trees. It zipped along through the branches with ease as it followed the troupe of elves below. It's crimson sclera gave way to a yellow iris with golden flaking, the pupil dark and expressionless. Vermilion hues gazed continuously into the magical orb that served as a conduit for what the conjured eye perceived. The Master of the Black Spire twisted his porcelain fingers over the orb, inexplicably the image rabidly shifted as the eye zoomed about with alarming speed and stealth to offer a different angle of the scene. A woman of unmatched beauty rode hard some twenty meters in front of the carriage. She posed as a guard, but he knew those unique features intimately. The Empress was one of a kind. He never imagined Andromeda doing such a thing to ensure success. It was a bold strategy, and spoke much of The Empress' character.<br/><br/>His fingers contorted in hard angles as he manipulated the eye again, moving it to the others accompanying the Empress. He watched Rhys call for them to stop, then forge off on his own to investigate his suspicions. Sharp twists of his fingers brought the others into view, one by one. He rapidly moved between them, assimilating the fullness of the situation as only he could from such a disconnected position. He didn't like Faira being left alone to wait at the fore. This was foolish, and he cursed her protectors. Often removing the lead guards during an ambush was a chosen avenue of assault.<br/><br/>It was then the first arrow lit up the night. The eye instantly shifted towards the light as it rapidly sailed through the air and landed with a thud just before Aurora's face. He ignored her and immediately shifted his point of view to where Faira had been to see her horse lose control and flee in a chaotic manor. Arahaelon snarled to himself, and had to avoid swearing vengeance upon the dolt that trained that nag. The eye easily caught up with her as the horse galloped at the speed of fear. He watched her closely, willing her to control the beast. Though it was not to be, as she was thrown from the horses back and hit the ground, the eye immediately swirled and took in their surroundings. He wanted to see if she was injured, but knew the surrounding threats were the real danger. The magical sight he was afforded could pierce the darkness, and deep in the thickness of the forest, he saw dark brethren surging for her.<br/><br/>He'd kill them all before they got to her.<br/><br/>His hands left the orb, and the eye resolved into pure blood and hit the ground with wet thud somewhere near Faira. Arahaelon chose his destination carefully. The dark elves were encroaching upon her in a contracting semi-circle. A quick flash of scarlet energy, and he was positioned behind them. The leader of this portion of the assault force was approximately ten meters behind the main force. Barking orders in a harsh yet sophisticated tongue. He knew what they meant. Faira had moments left. He knew Faira received special training as the Empress of Elven Kind, but did not know the limits of her abilities. He couldn't risk it. They had to die.<br/><br/>'Sanguenon..' His word was spoken low, and with a tongue wreathed in murder. The demon responded immediately, the dark power it blessed him with willingly given over.<br/><br/>The leader somehow heard him, and seemed to stiffen as he reluctantly turned to look behind him.<br/><br/>His last sight was of twin vermilion hued orbs twinkling in the night, and a flash of dark metal.<br/><br/>All at once, the sounds of combat surrounded Faira, replacing the sounds of a charging horde bent on a singular mission. Shouts of alarm and urgency met the clash of steel.<br/><br/>Arahaelon traveled in a blur, moving from one dark elf warrior to the next. If she could have seen the display, it would have left her in awe. The same magic that provided him the means to travel long distances, was invoked on a smaller, more frequent scale. A mysterious crimson energy trailed Arahaelon's form as he moved near instantly between enemies. Leaving him where the enemy was exposed, allowing him to make short work of them. Even in the midst of enemies, he was untouched. As one death blow seemed to leave him open to a neighboring foe, he was gone before the stroke could fall. His timing was impeccable.<br/><br/>The sounds of combat seemed to dim, footfalls began to sound further from Faira, rather than closer. Then with a sickening slice, and a gurgle of viscous liquid, it was quiet again. Until she heard only a single set of footsteps approaching. His form slowly unveiled by the darkness.<br/><br/>'Do not fear, Faira...' His voice was soft, and reassuring.<br/><br/>Then a streak of yellow light blazed through the night, a flaming arrow sailed on a sure course for Faira's heart.<br/><br/>He had not the time to speak, only to act. His eyes flashed, and his body vanished in a dark flourish. Then he was behind her, the arrow that was set to take her life, jutting bloodily from his back. The flame burned at his chest, but blood moved on it's own from his wound and extinguished the fire. He was not like other elves, even other dark elves. He harbored a demon of ancient origins, and the wound while grievous to some, was far from lethal to him. The culprit that fired the arrow died in a bloody spectacle as Rhys had his way with them. Arahaelon watched the kill with equal parts appreciation and disinterest.<br/><br/>Slowly he turned, as if there wasn't an arrow lodged through his abdomen. 'Are you unharmed, Empress??'