Sweat pooled in the small of his back, sucking his shirt against flesh.<br/>In the absence of daylight a chill chased at the heels of the pressing dark. Time marched on and the raw gasoline energy of magic coursing through his veins dwindled and stuttered with each pulse like a failing engine.  Heat rose from his skin and curled visibly in his breath, which was steady enough, but only through concentration and sheer practice; one wasted gasp of air could sacrifice enough lingering power to buckle in an entire spell, a spell he might need if anything else burst out of the edge of those woods…<br/><br/>Naeth gave it a moment, attentions torn between the dark line of the trees, with their phantom shadows dancing between an infinitely complex twisted world of branches, each one momentarily resembling something awful diving free to reclaim its stolen prize, before spiriting harmlessly away into whatever psychological abyss they’d crawled from and The Girl.<br/><br/>Surprise, surprise, the girl was harder to ignore.<br/><br/>His eyes strained, focusing with all their might on monitoring for any danger, but his expression told a different story. He stood, weight rested on the toes, one hand still curled behind him, fingers still poised, like a puppet masters moments before a show, digits still locked in a gesture older than his bloodline and more vile than all the witch hunting wars it had caused in the past.<br/><br/>And yet his teeth grit and bared ever so slightly as Amora spoke, brow almost kissing in the middle at the audacity of it all!<br/><br/>“Did you leave your sanity in their webs or were you simply dropped<span style="font-style: italic">repeatedly</span>against a wall as a child?”  He snarled coolly. A quick mental scan of the area told him of the absence of one of his personal maids, Veronika. Pretty enough little animal, but she had been a real bitch to tame. Once upon a time he’d tried to teach her magic, but the fool abhorred hard work and chose make-up powder and life of seduction and wile over elbow grease and genius. A harsh concoction of hexes and charms prevented her from leaving the grounds/ wandering out from under the watchful eyes of his birds and range of his territory; as long as she lived he could locate her mangey stench.<br/><br/>But here he was and there it wasn’t.<br/><br/>He could feel the low energy thrumming from the house. Vibration from the boilers, pipes rattling, wood breathing, brick settling and his few select servant either bedded or settling in for the evening, blissfully unaware of the scuffle in the woods. All accounted for, but two; Amora and Veronika.<br/><br/>For a good half minute only the wind rustling through the leaves replied, before finally he relaxed, rolling his shoulders and straightening up. Whatever dangers were out there were clearly busy, probably picking meat from the bones of some poor schmuck.<br/><br/>Naeth’s amber eyes locked on his servant like a hawk, “Have you any idea what denizens haunt that godforsaken plot of land at this hour or was your up close and personal with my neighbours not quite enough to knock some sense into you?”<br/><br/>As battered and as dainty as she looked, still wearing the fierce blush of fresh cuts and bruises against her fair skin, with stray web caught in her clothes and drifting weightlessly in  the air around her like the tails of fancy goldfish; she looked more like a potential mage now than ever.<br/><br/>If her racing heart stood as living proof of the fear of everything she’d undergone that evening those determined-as-hell eyes covered up and lied for her. Her name might have been his, but she wore her identity so loud and clear it made his breath catch in spite of himself.<br/><br/>This is it. This is the one.<br/><br/>But that didn’t mean he wasn’t fucking livid with her!<br/>“I don’t know what went down here tonight.” He hissed, raising a hand in her direction, digits still poised in that ancient gesture, energy reaching beyond his skin and feeling for the breath in her throat. The air eddied like a tide against the brush of his aura before he squeezed his fist shut in front of his chest, locking a magi grip around her throat, feeling those tiny bones around her windpipe creak, “I don’t know what you were trying to achieve,” he stared her dead in the eye, sharpened teeth glistening as his spoke, “ but seeing as you were clearly behind amoebas in the queue for  intelligence, I’ll be merciful and clue you in.”<br/><br/>Naeth dropped his preternatural, thrice-damned influence over her, arm returning back to his side, busying itself fishing a hip flask of sweet liquor from inside his jacket, ignoring any coughing or spluttering the girl might’ve been enduring.<br/>“… myriads of dark Unfortunates ,” a shudder of distaste and a swig of drink,  “flock around magi abodes to scavenge on the dregs of surplus energy shed from every kind of spell.”  He explained slowly, gaze wandering back to the woods, “Not like the arakyn that chased you. They are….” He scowled, trying to find the right words, suddenly looking ever so conversational and casual, like someone had flicked a switch, out came charming mode, “… ah, more like guard dogs. Very faithful, but equally indiscriminate. Intruder or staff, saint or sinner, prince or pauper, they don’t mind. Everyone looks the same when they’re melted into meat slurry, what do they care! No, what I speak of are darker entities…”<br/><br/>He offered out the hip flask to Amora, not so much a gesture of friendship, he just didn’t like drinking alone. It made him feel like a goddamn alcoholic.<br/><br/>“Here, it’ll take the edge off,” he said softly,  “Don’t argue, don’t even think about it, just have a moments patience and hear me out; Flitting here and bolstering the shadows,” he gave her a nod as if to break through her blinding haze of punishingly dull and frustrating IGNORANCE and spell it out for her, put the poor child out of her misery and clarify for her tragic pea brain that yes, it was all real and all his hard labour, “is going to draw said dark things like fresh shit does flies. Your knight in shining armour is probably one of those parasites! There are some places in the world where the veil between the spirit realm and ours is worn thin and this is one of them. Feel lucky you came back at all, but know this; I will not risk the effort of going out there to save the goddamn Pope. What luck has your friend got!?”