Thread: Blood of the Fae (Alvis & Xana)

His bindings released, Etarlm rubbed his wrists, feeling hte faint sting of hte bindings on them still. he glared at the faint abrasions, willing htem to fade from his flesh as they would have back in his home. But here, charmed, such was not to happen. It was distressingly mortal to have to suffer this. He witheld comment at her statement of providing accomodation to his status. Perhaps a prince was seen as suitable a title for him here, but it was a pale shadow of his titles from his home realm. Emmisary and Herald of hte Queen of Air and Darkness, his authority was not as distinct and overt as the Queens of the Courts, but it carried hte implied threat and power of his patron, against whom there was simnply no resistance. A suitable accomodation might have been a spire of gleaming crystal that soared above the castle, dwarfing hte rest of the structure in it's grandeur, perhaps with sprawling gardens that flowed across the lower reaches of the sturcture, with choice creatures within to hunt at his leisure. He also knew such was past the capabilities of mortal construction. Longing for it still felt proper, being unreasonable in his expectations had never proven overly detrimental to him in the past, he saw no reason to change such now. As they walked, he tested the limits of his charms, seeing what poewr remained to him. He could feel it, a vast wellspring of magic that if he let loose could very well shatter the minds of most of hte people within the castle, enthralling, driving mad, unleashing all forms of animalistic urges. But that was hte purpose of the charms. He heaved with all his mental might on them, straining their power of containment, trying to summon anything to his aid, some semblance of power. What he got was a silver butterfly that appeared, fluttered, and then vanished. He felt drained after it, but it told him an important thing. The charms were not perfect. Perhaps they once had been, but generations of use, and continued application to Exiled Sidhe rather tahn untouched ones left them capable of breaching. But even so, the brief illusion had had called meant he would be limited in his actions, and any persistent enchantments he tried to level would take away his ability to do even such minor workings. He had never seent he need to refine his art, use less power for more results, not when he had such a wellspring to draw on. Something else for him to learn. The room was...interesting to him. He did have to admit that mortality had avantages. With such a headlong charging rush towards the grave and death, mortal man managed to cram a substantial amount of living into their short span. Craftsmen could never hope to acheive what the Sidhe were capable of with millenia to hone skills, but they did do incredible things given their invested years. Etarlm let out a slow sigh, once again pushing hte bounds of his charms as he reached out to touch the wooden fram of the bed. He let his eyes close, adn felt...everything contained within. Ancient age of the tree before it was felled, the majesty of the plant, teh casual indifference of the man who felled hte tree, the pain of an ancient life ending. The satisfaction of the saw mill that carved the corpse into planks and beams, the joy of the carpenter that acquired the wood, the pride of the person that created the work, seeing a sense of ageless beauty restored to the noble materials. He focused on that last person, his face splitting into a wicked grin. Clever mortals. Not the same person as the buyer, who purported to be the craftsman. The fine work of his shop had been the work of his daughter. Secrets were always worth collecting, even if for the novelty of them. Letting his eyes open, and his breathing return to normal as he noted his...betrothed? Mistress? Warden? All of these and none of them fit in his mind. I have not suffered mortal fare in longer than your mind could fathom. Though... He trailed off, thinking of what he could currently do, trace the experience of a thing. ...pheasant. I do believe I found such a thing to my current tastes. He finished the thought aloud. Other than that, I bow to your superior experience in such matters. He knew that he should respond to her other statements, but it was hard to do so without sounding provocative. Your interest in my comfort is...amusing. Given circumstances are as they stand. He said with a cock of his head, looking just past her head, seeming to satre more at the wall as he mused. Given that you wrap me body and soul in the Bane.