The mansion was a ruin, not but a shadow of its former glory. Where once a palace of alabaster hued stone threatened the sky with golden towers, now only a dilapidated husk stood in its place. The tiles that adorned the peaks of the spires were nearly gone, great holes and gaps leaving only the skeleton still covered. No longer did they shimmer in the setting sun, and gleam with promises of the future. Walls that had offered solace and safety for generations, now gave way to Gaia’s heedless march. Mighty trees half as high as the spires made giant holes in the walls, careless for their bulwark. Vines of varying sizes splayed its surface, twisting and spiraling about the remnant.<br/><br/><br/>How long had it been?<br/><br/><br/>His eyes, a luminescent vermilion, gazed upon the ancient place he’d once called home. Steps as silent as a shadow, carried him past its gates, which no longer held fast. He did not relish his presence in this forsaken place, his mind warred to block out memories too painful to revisit. Yet he had requested her presence here. Why?<br/><br/><br/>The past was unavoidable, unrelenting, a tireless hound that would never relinquish.<br/><br/><br/>‘You will never know redemption, and they will never have salvation. Deny the urge, we are beyond such childish notions, aren’t we, Sanguenon?’ it spoke their name, to remind him.<br/><br/><br/>‘Yes,<i>we</i>are.’ He lied. Or perhaps, accused.<br/><br/><br/>The fountain that lay before the grand set of stairs leading to the main entrance was in no better condition than the rest. He paused, and sat at its edge. Peering into the murky water that now filled the center. Toadstools and grime were all that remained of the glimmering liquid crystal he remembered. He rose, and continued up the steps. The braziers that had illuminated passage were long since extinguished. He did not halt his pace as he closed his eyes, taking each next step from memory. He imagined it as it was. The nostalgia, the pain, almost overwhelming.<br/><br/><br/>He toyed with his memory too long. His stride paused abruptly as blood and murder flashed in his mind’s eye. He exhaled a breath of pure hatred, and resolved himself to continue.<br/><br/><br/>Reaching the great double doors that lead to the foyer, he slipped between the gap, only allowing himself a glance at the great seal. Though his hand rose to fondle its intricate design as he passed.<br/><br/>He stood motionless in the grand vestibule, fighting an internal war to deny the exploration of memories he knew were best left buried.<br/><br/><br/>‘we’ll wait for her here…’ he said.<br/><br/><br/>‘you’re so sure she’ll come. Why? The world has already shown you what disappointment life holds in store for the hopeful, you should know that better than anyone.’<br/><br/><br/>He didn’t answer. Here, he would wait for her to come.<br/><br/><br/>**********************<br/><br/><br/>The Empress, she had come. He felt her long before she entered the foyer. Her blood was like none he’d ever felt. Such raw potency, truly it was her. Only one chosen and empowered by The Goddess could have such inner strength, if she only knew her own potential, he would be saving her from nothing.<br/><br/><br/>As she entered the foyer, he knew that she hadn’t yet seen him. In this place of death, he blended like a wolf among the pack. He could sense her unease, this place carried a heavy weight, and she was not ignorant to it. As if casting off an illusion, he turned from the shadows and two garnet orbs scintillated in the darkness.<br/><br/><br/>‘Greetings, Empress…’<br/><br/><br/>He took a few steps in her direction. Revealing a body of pale skin, adorned in silken black hair. His feet clad in a stylish boot that tapered to a flat tip. His leg below the knee encased in a black, hardened leather greave that ended in a flared knee guard. His pants were of a heavy, night hued cloth, held up by a leather belt of the same color. A long straight coat hung by his shoulders, ceasing just before touching the floor. The sleeves were full length, also flared at the cuff. He wore no shirt, or vest below, his abdomen exposed. What could be glimpsed of his body below the coat was taut and muscled, for an elf. A brushed copper trim of an intricate design decorated the heel and toe of his boots, the tail of his coat, the buckle of his belt, and the cuff of his sleeve. His coat was slit on each side, and hung in four pieces from the hip down. A long sword of devilish design hung from a hip harness. The sheath had a familiar copper decorum of exquisite design, the blade and hilt remained hidden to her yet.<br/><br/><br/>His features were beautiful, a proud elven heritage was easy to discern. Though his persona did much to take from him, in this regard. While he was undeniably attractive, even strikingly so, it was largely stolen by an inner darkness that was apparent. What a magnificent creature he must once have been.