I posted the chapter in Dal’coler earlier, aside of queue. Because I was inspired for it. Sorry to all who reads for this messy move 😉
The dining chamber was small, secluded. Nymre pondered why Lorian chose such a place for today – of all rooms, this one, least exposed, almost hidden in the depths of the palace. Only one window filtrated meek light, making it look darker and… intimate.
Perhaps he wanted more privacy… or something bothered his mind and he didn’t want to be disrupted. Her lips crooked, when she thought that he might have other reasons. Like being completely alone with her.
She loved that Lorian usually had everything under control, but last few nights tested her in a most peculiar way. He looked pained and hollow, when he shouldn’t have, when he should feel pleasure. When she felt his aura around him, dark and beautiful, his eyes spoke different tale. They were blank… and she knew how to recognize emptiness in his eyes.
She wouldn’t be herself, if she didn’t plan to be inquisitive.
The dinner they were served was scarce. Fae never ate much, and they ate even less, being much older than most of their kin. The older they were getting, the less food they needed. Of course they could eat for pure enjoyment… but that seemed a waste of time for Nymre.
She took the fork and pinned the slice of a winter pear with it, her eyes focused on her lover. Lorian seemed completely uninterested with his food. He looked into the window with an almost absent gaze.
“Maybe a talk will amuse you?” she threw a bait, to see how he reacts. If he still drowned in personal gloom. “I see something bothers you. Share it with me.”
Lorian slowly turned to her, his smile, most natural in the world, beautiful like a crashing star – that’s what she wanted to see. But she somehow knew it’s not all. He still was sad, even angry, under it.
“Partially” he said, his eyes not dead and lonely, not empty and hollow. “It all goes too slow, Nymre. And the messengers brought news, which I don’t like.”
Nymre raised her brow. That was new. Since she stopped being a outgoing spy, much more was escaping her. But she didn’t miss it. It was dirty, dangerous work, and kept her for too long far from the palace. Now she held the inner circle spies in her net though, a delightful task.
“That is?”
“Someone joined the human vessel. I wouldn’t be against it, if that young woman didn’t have her own plans, which may take his eyes from his mission. Maybe I should show him once again why he travels here… just a small reminder.”
Nymre thought that Lorian rarely looked so tense. But he had the right to, she felt it too, as time trickled through their fingers, like sand in the death’s hourglass. Others would not catch that on him, this slightly pressed jaws, this furrowed brow – more than usual – but she spent much time with him, looking at him from so closely, that she knew his body talk.
She shook her head, in defiant way.
Now, she almost regretted that she wasn’t among the spies. Her curiosity piqued.
“Why don’t you just send the lesser folk after her?” her eyes gleamed. Worried. “Besides, I assume he is motivated that we have his little sibling. I doubt he will resign from saving her.”
His smile crooked, and mocking.
“Ah, he doesn’t even know how to survive in the wilderness a day of walk from home. This would be unwise to remove his only chance to get here, without unwanted… turbulence.”
“So there is something in your words, when you said that you chose a fool” her eyes darted at him like arrows.
“A fool with potential. A fool with great untrained and chaotic power. Most dangerous fool.”
Oh, Nymre also knew how to use promising fools in her plans.
Lorian cut the apple with a sharp dagger and slowly put a slice into his mouth. Nymre thought that he was eating less and less. Even less than other old Fae. She wondered if it’s caused in any way by him greatly passing one thousand years… or more disturbing factors.
She felt as if he didn’t tell her everything… and not because he didn’t trust her. Because it was hurting him. She slowly pushed a slight thought into him, a light dove of a spell, which he shouldn’t even feel. It fluttered towards him, and sunk into him. She could almost feel like it drowns in inky depths.
That worried her. Even more. He never was secretive towards her.
She almost admitted to him that she knows, even if she didn’t, to see how he reacts, to pull that from him, when something disrupted her. Lorian looked at the entrance, which separated the chamber from the corridor with a thick wooden door, slight annoyance on his face. Nymre felt that he reads someone’s thoughts; she tried not to feel anger because of being interrupted.
And then, the door opened, and… she came in.
Leira.
Lorian’s slave.
Nymre never liked her, she saw her as someone who uses her wit in raising to position, which didn’t belong to her. She was slightly off put by odd care her lover offered this low creature. She was definitely clever and knew how to learn. Nymre knew that she was amusing Lorian, but she disliked her being so close to him. Not that she was jealous. But Leira… disturbed her. There was something that indicated that she became less a human and more… what? The horns and tail Lorian gave her at the beginning, only intensified this feeling.
Leira bowed deeply and waited for him to allow her to speak. A smile bloomed on his lips. Nymre could swear that a pleased one.
“Speak.”
“My lord… forgive me for disturbing. Lord Vaein wants to inform you… One of your servants tried to escape.”
Lorian’s face still was a mask of complete calmness. Even shadows almost didn’t move, only slightly dancing in his hair.
“How vile…” he mused eventually. “One could think that I treat them wrong. What a… lack of gratitude.”
Leira didn’t say anything, slightly off put. Or at least so it seemed. Nymre had to admit that she enjoys her discomfort which came with Lorian’s words.
She never understood Lorian’s affinity for this creature.
“Was he captured?” Lorian narrowed his black eyes.
“Yes, my lord” she looked just at him. Her eyes raised, slightly, almost invisibly. She would not sell this human, not inform him about the escape, if the slave had any chance, Nymre thought. She hoped that Lorian is aware of it too.
“Then we we at least don’t need to wait” Lorian regarded her long enough for her to lower her gaze. He nodded, like this gesture pleased him and smiled joyfully at Nymre. “We all wait nowadays. Very intriguing change.”
Nymre almost scoffed with dark amusement, swallowing her worries. Yes, they waited. And will wait even longer, if the vessel will take more time, trying to somehow keep track with this unknown woman’s plans.
“I think all of this proves that simple joys wait behind any seemingly annoying act” Lorian turned to Leira again. Then he smiled again, a honeyed, almost cloying smile. “Maybe we all need sometimes a good break from the boredom of existence. He definitely tried.”
He rised the glass of light wine and sipped a bit.
“Tell the guards to do what they usually do. And wait for me.”
Nymre this time couldn’t stop a tiny and dark smile gracing her lips.
There was some kind of tempting, alluring strength in Leira’s gaze, like she was not a human, but a High Fae going to a battle. Strength that she never faced in a lower species. Not after Lorian took them as servants.
Leira was fearing Lorian… but she wanted, somehow, to keep his attention, and stay in his grace. Annoying, but understandable. But no one at the court liked that.
Definitely not those who Lorian punished because of her. Not those who tried to submit her and later suffered.
This silly girl was the reason for so many falls.
And yes, maybe Nymre didn’t want to admit it openly, but she was slightly jealous. Even if reasons were evading even her. Lorian never showed any interest in her, in any way other than amused curiosity.
When Leira left, Lorian smiled at Nymre, like wanting to brush all her doubtful clouds. It was her favorite smile of his. Filled with light enjoyment and a certain dose of hunger.
“So… I think this was not as urgent as she thought. But that reminded me that I chose this chamber for a purpose. To not be interrupted. Perhaps to share more time with you.”
The shadows drifted towards the door, and stayed there like guardians, sinking under them and warning all who had another news for him. Nymre thought though that he allowed Leira by himself. She almost hoped that she will regret it.
“Do you like it now? When we are all alone and I am not able to leave?” she teased him; half serious, half not. She knew already how he will reply. He loved owning her.
Lorian took the apple slice in his fingers, well cut just near the core. A frisky smile on his face.
“You know I do.”
A new layout! Made from my own header and brilliant WP coding by KaciElizabeth 🙂
I hope you all like the new looks!
HEAVY SPOILER
Lorian was born the second son of Marnsul Dal, the Autumn Lord. He was always intense, perhaps too much so for his family’s tastes. Marnsul was perhaps the most kind of all the kings of Unseelie, and so Lorian grew up in the wild surroundings of the autumnal groves, among thick branches and copper leaves, not really fearing his father. He was free, untamed, and as his shadowy powers grew, so did his pride. He still managed to be level-headed and normal through it all, even if he had some darker tendencies and a dominant personality. He had three friends among the High Fae, and the four of them would go into the fire after each other. Lorian would go after them if they needed it, killing anyone who tried to harm them.
His brother Lerrel did not see him as a member of the family, but as a threat to his position. His own royal powers were of autumn kind, not spectacular are rare shadows – and that alone made him hate Lorian, he feared that Lorian would become more worthy of the crown. Lerrel was always angry and cruel, and disliked the fact that Lorian was popular at court.
They fought verbally, which turned into a vicious war, Lerrel used every means to undermine Lorian, Lorian grew colder as the endless animosity began to overcome the whole court. The factions emerged, the Unseelie Fae supporting their chosen ones with typical excitement and whimsical glee. The court split, and the king finally had enough.
Lorian and Lerrel eventually went so deep, that there was not coming back. Lerrel used forbidden magic to remove Lorian and Lorian had no remorse about crawling into his heart and bones with his shadows, and he pressed his will so hard that it killed Lerrel.
This could end very badly… for everyone.
But… the forest looked at Lorian, and Lorian felt its heart beat in his veins.
The dark forest liked him. It promised well.
The leaves began to fall, autumn was ending, and so was its reign.
The reign of winter was about to begin. Marnsul knew what that meant. When the forest chose, the old king died, as he had always done since the beginning of the Fae race.
They were bound to it, as Forest descendants. And the Forest has always been a cruel father to its children, capricious and unpredictable.
Lorian was not like his father. He was much darker, but also charming and much less rigid than Marnsul. He freed the feykind from the harsh traditions that bound them and that his father loved so much, and the court soon became decadent. Darker, too. The Fae, nightly at heart, simply… liked it, even if Lorian usually punished offenders and those who deserved it harshly, even cruelly. They preferred it to stagnation. When he bonded with Nymre, the raven spy, his eyes lit up with new fire. He loved his life, dangerous and wild, even more than in his youth. His intensity grew, and he hated as much as he loved. Something was in the air as the shadows began to thicken around him, a promise of the deep night.
Lorian had no descendants, so he could not be replaced, but the woods were silent about it, as if they forgave him, as if they knew he would not stop until the Fae ruled all the lands. Until forest magic spreads. That one day he would send winter through south and east and north and west.
The dark, wintry forest was hungry, and so were the Fae. So was Lorian. The barriers between the Fey land and the other kingdoms were slowly breaking down, and no one knew why, even if it allowed the Fey to feed their curiosity and darkness on the lower races – but Lorian learned the reason.
In those days Lorian read a lot. He knew old stories that only a royal lineage would know. And he took a chance. With the gods, thirsty for souls and life, and in their slumber, they unconsciously broke all barriers, their power shattering the magical bonds of Ain’asel.
They slept beneath the temple in Natsel’sorl, where changelings guarded them, silent priests performing rites in their name. The old stories hinted at something no non-royal Fae knew – that no matter what, every 20,000 years they would awaken to drink from the Unseelie, and then fall asleep again, sated and filled with their magic. And this time was coming fast, the gods were already awakening, slowly opening their inner eyes. Lorian used every dark and vile means at his disposal to trap the gods in a limbo between reality and sleep. And he began to slowly strip them of their power.
He did it mostly to save himself, and Nymre, person he loved, truly. But the god’s power became a drug for him, and he changed even more, into a much darker person. But it didn’t create a new person out of him – the thirst for the god’s blood only intensified his traits, which he kept under control most of the time, not allowing them to be seen. The power, moreover, was stronger than anything the Fae could endure, and he suffered terrible pain.
And so he suffered and ruled for countless more years, growing more corrupt, more vile, more bloodthirsty. He became “The Shadow”. He never told anyone of his pain. Not even Nymre. Not even when he thought she might suspect; but he would never hurt her, even if he was now disposing of the lives of others with a light hand, enjoying their pain, feeding on their fear, killing his own emptiness and suffering with screams. He felt the call of the forest, the winter in his veins, calling him by name… luring him deeper into the cruel pit of no return. And he hated it and loved it, absolutely. He loved his darkness, it became his cruel friend, his shadowy bride… but at the same time he longed for his youth, when everything was… simpler and purer.
But Lorian is not violent without reason – he has his boundaries. Yet he knows where an apt punishment needs to go, what he can allow his Court and what not. He is master of political strategy and his pawns always are placed in most functional and suitable places.
“I want to hear the gods scream as I scream in my head. To hear them as I rip out their souls and replace them with void”.
Short info:
Gender: Male
Eyes: Black
Hair: Black
Complexion: Pale
Personality: Sadistic, cruel, proud, unforgiving, intense, passionate towards those he likes, cold towards everyone else.
Love interest: Nymre (raven fae), Leira (human)
Family: Lerrel (brother – deceased), Marnsul (father – deceased), Iri (mother – deceased)
Power: Shadow Magic
So… just here to share that Lorian is not only darkness and shadows. I scrapped the bio, because it’s hard to share informations without even heavier spoilers, which would be telling literally whole plot of the novel :>
It seems Lorian is only vile. But it’s not all he is.
This amazing art of Lorian was made by utterly talented artist and amazing supportive friend, Darkenaz. Thank you. I will be always amazed by it.
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