(Runs concurrently with Flame within Shadows)
Oh now feel it comin" back again Like a rollin" thunder chasing the wind Forces pullin" from the center of the earth again I can feel it.
He felt like a craven fool. He knew the Queen of Air and Darkness sought him for her bed. While it seemed to be the height of folly to refuse, refuse he did. He did not want the honor of being her consort. By the Unformed, he wouldn't wish that pleasure on his worse enemy. By the same token, he could not defend his Flame within Shadows from her. It was a pain he would have to bare. He was thankful his Flame did not hold him at fault.
He knew the wild magic that was the Sithean had guided him to her that night. It had revealed more than a kindred spirit in a chaotic world. It had shown him a truth that had been hidden from him. He had to believe the ring, when it chose to awaken, had shown the Queen the fated union of the Dark Storm to the Flame within Shadows. Why else was there a need to separate them " or manipulate them into meeting"
He had to hold on to this hope as he sought a place where he could take shelter. A place where he could stand his ground. A place he could protect and cherish his Flame within Shadows. A haven from the Queen of Air and Darkness, her Ravens and the Host.
The task of finding their haven was easy enough. There was a manor near the woods on the northwestern edge of this city, away from the crowds and bustle. He convinced the owner to sell to him easily enough with the edge of his glamour dropped enough. It was too easy yet he was Unseelie. He did not cheat the man, just convinced him to lower the price to be more reasonable.
He needed to know what he was facing though. There was only one he could trust. There was only one way to contact him without the Queen knowing. He drew the ancient short sword, one of a pair that he forever carried.
He drew his finger across the tip of the sword, opening a cut deep enough to bleed. He then drew his finger across the shining surface of the blade, the blood beading up instead of coating the blade. He, then, opened himself to the magic, dropping his shielding. He concentrated that magic into the blade. Picturing the face of the one he trusted, he spoke in his low rumble. "Doran, I call you; Doran Nightstalker, I call you; Doran Knight of the Unseelie, I call you. Thrice called, thrice named, come to me, Doran, come answer your blade."
The call of the blade was something that was rarely used in this day and age. Damnation, even he even has a cell phone. Yet there were somethings you do not want to be heard and this was the safest way.
"Damnation, Quaid, what have you done this time."
He smirked at that. He could trust Doran to cut to the heart of the matter. "Refuse to become her bed toy, old friend."
"She is not happy that you are gone, Stormy. Whispers say that she tortured her Flame within Shadows thinking the pair of you have been consorts for years."
He frowned then, "We were not?" The fury rose within him.
"And now, Quaid?" the almost fearful question.
"The ring ....has it spoken?"
"That is another rumor that is adding fire. The ring has spoken for the Dark Storm and the Flame within Shadows." He frowned then. "Quaid, you haven't?"
"I have not." He spoke the literal truth however the word "yet' resonated in his soul.
There was that sigh. "I will not tell you to be careful. I only hope for your sake this works out in your favor."
"I appreciate that. Can you carry word discreetly to my house" To those you know will not betray me?" Betray us, he thought.
"You do not plan on returning?"
"Not yet."
The figure in the blade nodded once, "It will be done."
With that the connection was closed. You did not thank a high court fae as it was considered rude. He dragged a hand threw his wind tossed mane and looked to the skies. The wind was picking up for a nice blow. He felt the power wash across his skin as he dropped his glamour.
He was in truth the Dark Storm.
Lightning crashes, a new mother cries This moment she's been waiting for The angel opens her eyes Pale blue colored iris, Presents the circle and puts the glory out to hide, hide
Oh now feel it comin" back again Like a rollin" thunder chasing the wind Forces pullin" from the center of the earth again I can feel it.
He felt like a craven fool. He knew the Queen of Air and Darkness sought him for her bed. While it seemed to be the height of folly to refuse, refuse he did. He did not want the honor of being her consort. By the Unformed, he wouldn't wish that pleasure on his worse enemy. By the same token, he could not defend his Flame within Shadows from her. It was a pain he would have to bare. He was thankful his Flame did not hold him at fault.
He knew the wild magic that was the Sithean had guided him to her that night. It had revealed more than a kindred spirit in a chaotic world. It had shown him a truth that had been hidden from him. He had to believe the ring, when it chose to awaken, had shown the Queen the fated union of the Dark Storm to the Flame within Shadows. Why else was there a need to separate them " or manipulate them into meeting"
He had to hold on to this hope as he sought a place where he could take shelter. A place where he could stand his ground. A place he could protect and cherish his Flame within Shadows. A haven from the Queen of Air and Darkness, her Ravens and the Host.
The task of finding their haven was easy enough. There was a manor near the woods on the northwestern edge of this city, away from the crowds and bustle. He convinced the owner to sell to him easily enough with the edge of his glamour dropped enough. It was too easy yet he was Unseelie. He did not cheat the man, just convinced him to lower the price to be more reasonable.
He needed to know what he was facing though. There was only one he could trust. There was only one way to contact him without the Queen knowing. He drew the ancient short sword, one of a pair that he forever carried.
He drew his finger across the tip of the sword, opening a cut deep enough to bleed. He then drew his finger across the shining surface of the blade, the blood beading up instead of coating the blade. He, then, opened himself to the magic, dropping his shielding. He concentrated that magic into the blade. Picturing the face of the one he trusted, he spoke in his low rumble. "Doran, I call you; Doran Nightstalker, I call you; Doran Knight of the Unseelie, I call you. Thrice called, thrice named, come to me, Doran, come answer your blade."
The call of the blade was something that was rarely used in this day and age. Damnation, even he even has a cell phone. Yet there were somethings you do not want to be heard and this was the safest way.
"Damnation, Quaid, what have you done this time."
He smirked at that. He could trust Doran to cut to the heart of the matter. "Refuse to become her bed toy, old friend."
"She is not happy that you are gone, Stormy. Whispers say that she tortured her Flame within Shadows thinking the pair of you have been consorts for years."
He frowned then, "We were not?" The fury rose within him.
"And now, Quaid?" the almost fearful question.
"The ring ....has it spoken?"
"That is another rumor that is adding fire. The ring has spoken for the Dark Storm and the Flame within Shadows." He frowned then. "Quaid, you haven't?"
"I have not." He spoke the literal truth however the word "yet' resonated in his soul.
There was that sigh. "I will not tell you to be careful. I only hope for your sake this works out in your favor."
"I appreciate that. Can you carry word discreetly to my house" To those you know will not betray me?" Betray us, he thought.
"You do not plan on returning?"
"Not yet."
The figure in the blade nodded once, "It will be done."
With that the connection was closed. You did not thank a high court fae as it was considered rude. He dragged a hand threw his wind tossed mane and looked to the skies. The wind was picking up for a nice blow. He felt the power wash across his skin as he dropped his glamour.
He was in truth the Dark Storm.
Lightning crashes, a new mother cries This moment she's been waiting for The angel opens her eyes Pale blue colored iris, Presents the circle and puts the glory out to hide, hide