<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d7/fa/4d/d7fa4db7d7ea74deb4ef3b410de57d0a.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Conri</strong><br/><strong><em>The Forgotten One</em></strong></span></div></div>The shadows stirred around the man as he struggled, as if something were watching, and growing impatient.  A few swipes of the blade proved futile when contending with the vines, and within moments they had the mortal subdued and effectively bound to the tree.  Any attempt to fight back would be rendered impotent, and a waste of energy.  As long as the fae wished the man to be held, he would remain his captive.<br/><br/>A shift began in the air, tugging the darkness inward from every which way until all light was banished.  Tendrils of black smoke crept along the forest floor, billowing gracefully over uplifted roots and debris until it fed into a concentrated mass just a few feet front of the intruder.  In the space of a few heartbeats the smoke started to take shape, then became a solid form, revealing a tall figure as the darkness dripped off of him like black ink, seeping into the ground at his feet to collect into his pool of magic once more.  What, or who, stared down at the man was now a being not unlike those found in lore, with natural markings akin to a strange beast on his features, dark-rimmed eyes and long, wavy hair that reached down his entire back.  He wore a simple long-sleeved robe that was left open to a chest endorsed with necklaces, and dark pants that were light in material so his movements wouldn’t be impeded.<br/><br/>Perhaps the most prominent and eye-catching feature were the two spiraling horns sprouting from his head, tipped to wicked points that were not welcoming to touch.  While different, they were not likely the first thing to set him apart from humans.  His magic, both old and perpetual, and its influence seeped out of him without effort.  It was as much a part of him as his limbs, and trying to contain such a formless trait was like bottling air.  Impossible.<br/><br/>Liadian, his apprentice, spoke out in her desperation, and without taking his eyes off the intruder he responded.  “I offer life,<em>Asthore</em>, nothing more.  His life for his servitude.  That is the way it works.”  The fae’s voice carried throughout in a calm, smooth cadence; such richness would never be replicated in a human’s throat.<br/><br/>“There are truths in you, mortal.  Truths and truths… but I only offer one, should you accept.  Your life for your servitude.  My word is as good as yours, and we both know you are bound by your word just as much as I.”  Conri’s kind were not able to outwardly speak a lie, though he’d grown quite adept at wordplay.  Some things could be worked around, while some could not.  If the human did not accept the trade, he would kill him.  There was a reason why the man had followed Liadian into his woods; none of which would bode well for her, should he simply be cast out, as she had requested.<br/><br/>Such a rare opportunity needed to be considered, as he hadn’t had someone to navigate between worlds to do his bidding in many, many years.<br/><br/>“What will it be, human?  Choose now and let us be done with it.  I have things needing tending.”  A maiden, in particular, whose kiss he’d missed.  Whose last touch left ghostly caresses on his skin that wouldn’t stop.