A Moment's Indulgence
Compared to the painfully light-soaked world of the Ember Ward above, the illumination within Sinfall was next to nothing. Nonetheless, it was kept grimly cozy, with the amber glow of countless candles, torches, and braziers casting their warmth upon every stony wall and high ceiling of the sanctuary. Or at least, that's how it was kept most of the time. Renathal, first of the venthyr, the fallen prince, hmmmed with a disapproving look at a darkened hallway. None of the torches were lit as they should have been. Either the dredgers were playing that mortal game again - What was it called? Something about hearths and stone? - or Sinfall had fallen short enough of dredgers in recent days that they would have to pull up more replacements. Another frown into the dark with another hmmm.A noise reaching his ears prompted Renathal to go silent. He listened. The soft sound of light footsteps coming closer behind him, slow and measured. Not a dredger - which was what he needed here right now - a dredger's steps would have been clonky, brisk, and made little thump noises with no thought about it. Whoever it was, they were deliberately letting themselves be heard so as not to sneak up on him. What an amusing thought, that anyone but Denathrius himself should entertain the notion of successfully sneaking up on Renathal within his own sanctum. Within a moment, to his left, an elf woman appeared, and the venthyr prince's frown melted into a pleasant smile. Elves were beautiful creatures, the Thalassian varieties being particularly pretty - though the ren'dorei were certainly the most colorful. This one was either sin'dorei or quel'dorei. It was an impossible thing to tell which by looks alone, but from what he knew off the top of his head about their cultures, the red and gold colors of her attire and the gilded wings on her shoulder-plates were more likely to mark her as a sin'dorei - "child of blood," in their language. Fitting, given how many of them had already become venthyr even before the drought. The incandescent violet glow of her eyes shifted between looking at Renathal and glancing down the darkened hallway. She seemed to deduce his mood toward the state of things, and gracefully moved her arms to come up in front of her while moving her slender fingers in a fluid but complex gesture. "Felo'alah," she murmured, and the torches sprang to life, flames spitting in their sconces. Renathal turned to face the mortal woman more fully. Now that he could see her features more clearly in the light of the torch fires, he could put one of the many mortal names he'd come to recently know to the mortal face looking back at him. "Nicely done, Arcanist Ver'Sarn," he said by way of gratitude, the hint of his fangs glinting in the torchlight as his smile never waned. "But I must confess, it is a shame that your considerable power had to be spared upon dredgers' work," he added apologetically. "Such a mundane task certainly does not meet the full scope of your skills."The sorceress grinned warmly back at him, her smoldering eyes carrying a sparkle of mirth in them. "Oh, I can think of a handful of 'mundane' things that are quite magical with no skills at all, Your Highness," she replied with a chuckle.Renathal arched a white eyebrow, one corner of his mouth pulling up in a sly fashion. "Such as?" She opened her mouth to say something, to answer, but almost immediately faltered to a pause. The violet embers of her eyes flickered away from him to look at nothing, one corner of her mouth slowly pulling up into a lopsided, considering smile. A mortal heartbeat passed, then two. Then four... Then suddenly, her eyes flickered over several different other nothings, as though she had begun to search and gather up her thoughts and words around one of those things to offer him, instead of her initial thought.Renathal spoke before that could happen, his curiosity having been provoked. "Ohh," the low growl of his voice caused her violet gaze to snap back up to full attention on his. "It seems you have something particular in mind," he noted. The dark lashes of the woman's eyes fluttered like black butterflies' wings over the violet lights within them as she blinked for a few seconds. Then the side of her head dropped only very slightly to one side as the corresponding shoulder rose up a little ways to meet it. Not quite a slow a half-shrug, but something like it. Her silent lips finally fell closed, their corners pulling upwards into a soft smile. Her gaze remained locked with his as she spread her hands, as if to say, What would you have me do, O prince? The effect had a kind of innocence to it that seemed - to a venthyr's perception - sincere, rather than coy. (Only a mortal man could make such a mistake so easily, for knowing so comparatively little about it.) As though he had caught her in a corner where she was now vulnerable and pleading for mercy. Venthyr were not made to be merciful. Nor were they made to be unduly cruel.The prince responded with angling his ash gray face to change which side was most towards her, so that he could switch eyebrows and arch the other one at her. Well? The elf let out a short nervous laugh on a silent breath, her gaze briefly breaking from his towards a new nothing that existed somewhere in the general direction of the floor, buckling to his unspoken persuasion. Too easy. Which could only mean that this was something she wanted, but was reluctant to take the proverbial step forward and own it. Renathal physically took a step forward himself, closer towards her. "Arcanist?" he prompted. At the sound of his voice, Arcanist Ver'Sarn looked up again from the floor and - for a moment - her eyes and his searched each other, as if peering into a murky stretch of forest to try to assess what lay ahead within. What hidden dangers. She glanced away one last time, briefly, considering. Forming a decision and committing to it. Finally, she took her own step forward towards Renathal, rising up on her toes and lifting her head, indicating what she wanted to say was for his ears alone, and the dark prince readily obliged with bending his own head down closer to listen. "If you would permit me, Your Highness..." murmured the mortal woman, in a voice that was so warm and just above a whisper, close to his ear, "You could relax awhile, while I brush your hair." Renathal straightened right back up to regard her as she lowered her heels back down to the ground, both of his winter-white eyebrows raised high on his forehead. What she had just done... His lips pulled back and his fangs bared into a broad grin of amusement. The golden lights in his red eyes glittered and danced with open delight. She had just framed what she wanted into an invitation that could have had the Countess herself praising her - like one of her freshly sired court novices gaining their first favor. So, a mortal beauty was inviting him to an experience of the mundane as something magical? Renathal answered, his voice a low growl, "Lead the way." ,
AranyaVerSarn
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