When her servants had all been taken care of, the elf nodded.  They were nothing to her, and their faces had already started to fade from her mind.  It was done, and there was truly no turning back now.  Not that Antiel really cared, there was only one pursuit on her mind now.  And it was ever so much more worthy than her life here.  Her parents had given her almost everything that she had wanted, but for one.  And that was a purpose beyond being a pretty ornament for whatever lord they married her off to.  So she had played their game, making herself a lovely creature, refined and well spoken.  Her favorite place had been her parents' library, and she had made good use of it.  Though Antiel did have to wonder how that one particular book had worked its way into the collection.  Perhaps it had found her instead.  Now that was an interesting thought…

There were only a few things that she needed to bring with her, and the wealth of both her parents and her husband had already been spirited to a safe place.  Antiel only needed a few things to take the lonely road to the Keep Of Endless Night.  The gold and garnet jewelry that had been a wedding gift looked simply magnificent against the dark gray silk blouse she wore.  For practicality, she worse riding trousers and boots, and her favorite cloak of dark blue was thrown over her shoulders.  It was the dead of the night, and even fewer would see her leaving.  The only other things coming with her were stowed in a pack, her precious tome of shadow magic, a bottle of elvish wine, a special dagger, and the rest of her jewelry carefully wrapped away.  Her steed had been prepared a half hour ago, and the stablehand had been her first victim.

The portal opened with a wave of her hand, and the elf spurred the steed through.  Passing the Witch's Teat, she headed up the Cold Road.  Her elvish steed moved quickly, partly from her spurs and partly from the strange creatures just out of sight.  The Keep itself was magnificent, but it looked somewhat dilapidated on the ride to its gates.  The doors that greeted Antiel were quite lovely though, and shared none of the apparent neglect that seemed to appear on way there. 

Dismounting from the horse, she hugged the creature's head for a moment.  Beleg was one of the few creatures what won her affection.  Entering the grand doors, Antiel moved straight for the throne, absolutely sure in her motions.  Though it was empty when she arrived, she still spoke as if the Shadowed One was present.  "My lord, I would serve you, if you would have me.  I bring offerings of blood and wine, of service and devotion.  You are the only one worthy of my love, and I pray you might honor that," Antiel spoke.  Her words were spoken with the devotion and unshakable faith of a fanatic.

With Draven now gone, he found that he was having to be more aloof to the wants and needs of people that were braving the Cold Road. Though, as Draven had pointed out, just like in DaeLuin the Lykoi Woods were a black and white way of weeding out people it did not want there. You either were allowed to walk the path or you were stopped and dragged into the cold darkness.

As of late, Draven was often that reason. He had a habit of avoiding the discomfort that was trying to interact with his family in his planar form.

usually he would greet his faithful by appearing in his throne but today he was more dramatic. From the light of the moon streaming through the high window above, hundreds of ravens wove in and out of one another in a flapping, writhing mass. They gave way to shadow and the now fog of shadow came to her and within a breath, the god was before her, a hand lifting her chin, his face only inches from her. His eyes were two different colors but both very dark. Blue and brown. A hot and cold variety of heterochromia iridum. And in that moment he knew what she had done. Was she the one he was looking for? Desmonia's loss had been keenly felt once he only had Cersei to serve him in the priesthood. She did not have the dominant personality he needed.

And then he pulled away and was sitting in his throne. His long fingers clutched the end of the arm of his throne, his fingers entwined in the stone fingers of the statue at the arm. Some said that his throne was an ode to his lost lovers when he had entered the realm and it was why he clutched it so. Another darker, more likely tale was that he felt closer to his victims by clutching a manifestation of them.

"Offerings of blood are always welcome. But the offerings and sacrifices I require are much more extensive, my little rabbit. You are strong, I can see that in your posture. you know what you want and you want to know how to get it. So tell me, little rabbit, what is it that you truly want?"

There was no warning of His entrance, only the fluttering of innumerable wings. But Antiel held herself steady, it would be folly for her to show weakness now. The hand on her chin felt cold in a way, and it took all her will to not flinch away from it. But it was his gaze that held her attention more. Among her people, such a thing would have been considered a flaw, a thing contrary to elvish perfection. But to Antiel, it was merely another sign of how her people were wrong, oh so wrong. How could such a thing be a flaw?

When he pulled away, there was a mild stab of disappointment in her bones, but Antiel did not speak. Not yet, it was not the time. The throne he sat on was a curious thing, it seemed perfectly fitted to the Shadowed Lord, more so than anything made by mortal hands. Who were those people and what did their faces mean? Was it even something that would matter to Antiel. For the moment, she chose to listen, as there was quite a bit that she could learn in only a few moments and words.

And then he asked her a question. It was one that she had thought over on her journey to the Keep, and Antiel had an answer carefully composed. "Already, I have partly granted my own desire. I have freed myself from the chains cast over me by my people. But I truly believe that I have a greater purpose, one that lies with you, my Lord. My talents in the arcane arts lie not in nature, but with shadows. I came into possession of a tome, a grimoire of dark magics. And it led me to you and your Keep," Antiel said. Pulling the tome from her pack, she offered it to the Shadowed Lord. It was an ancient thing, but the ink on the pages had not faded. The words were in Elvish, the delicate script flowing like water over the pages.

"But I want more. I wish to learn more, and I know I can gain that knowledge in service to you. Every mortal has chains binding them somehow, and I would rather bind myself to a being worthy of devotion," Antiel said, then she waited. Either she would gain what she wanted, or she would die by his hand if she were unworthy.

It was rare for an elf to stray from their heritage. Unlike humans, they had ancient culture and rituals that were instilled into elven children from the womb. Dimitre understood that loyalty to culture as everything he built was a testament to a foreign land, a place his people often felt close to but would never know. And so her dedication to checking into the legend of the Hunter and the rumors of his domain greatly impressed him. For that, he gave her a small smile as his gaze pressed upon her.

"You are very wise," he said. "For you speak truth. We are all bound by chains of one sort or another so why not choose your chains? Why not choose chains that will grant you what you desire the most?" Draven had oft repeated a similar thing to him. Draven preferred Dimitre's control and Dimitre's rule to even when he had had more control. This was because it gave him less liability and he was ruled by someone who thought like him.

"That book, for I have one similar, speaks of the old god here and the local legends surrounding these woods. Of course, you noticed things are not quite as described there. Yet, it gives an accurate description of the sacrifices involved in becoming one with shadows." His gaze became suddenly darker. "Because magic always comes with a price. For every thousand mages who can conjure a flame or turn a river to ice you may have one that will make the sacrifice." He stood up again and this time he slowly descended the stairs to see her. "The Shadow Weave is often referred to as the Weave of the Mad because the way it can twist and darken the recesses of your mind once you begin to understand it. And it takes a loss of understanding of other things to keep that power." He turned his head and his gaze went to her neck.

"But we will take small steps, my dear." He reached into his robes and from there he withdrew a red silk ribbon. Gently he slid it around her neck and then tied it into a perfect bow just above her pulse. "This signifies, Antiel, that you are mine. You will forever tied to me and mine and will be available for us for when we need you, regardless of reason. When the time is right, you will take the extra step to what it means to truly have power, if that is what you desire."

The smile bestowed on her was like a gift in a way, a show of favor and a sign that she was not about to die.  For Antiel had risked all to come here, cutting ties with the elvish culture to follow the darkness of her heart.  "There are more like me… but they fear to leave everything that they have known.  They cling to old ways that have always been," she said, making a slight face.  There was a certain disgust in her mind, the sense of stagnation in elvish culture.  And that was precisely what had driven her away and into the Keep of the Hunter.  Perhaps she could return and seek out those like her, and bring them into the Hunter's fold… but that was a thought for later.

She nodded when the Hunter spoke of the book she carried, and of the differences that she had noted.  "I have already sacrificed the life that I knew, all for you, my Lord.  Life after life, I consecrated to you, severing the ties to the life that I had.  But i also know that this is only a small part of the price I will pay.  I still wish to learn of your ways," she said, bowing her head in a motion of submission.  It was here that her heart lay, here that she felt like she could be herself.  And here that Antiel might finally know the potential she felt was buried away by the laws and traditions of her old home. 

When the ribbon was tied around her neck, the elf sucked in her breath for just a moment.  A threshold had been crossed, one that she knew she would never be able to undo.  But it was only one of others she had already crossed.  "What is it that you would have of me now?  I am yours, my Lord.  Now and forever, as long as you will have me," Antiel said, her words soft in the shadows.  Her heart slowed to a calm tempo, and her posture relaxed into acceptance of whatever the Hunter would ask of her. 

She right. She had sacrificed everything… but not truly herself. He could tell she had wanted more and so she had really just shed shackles and excess weight. Her time with him would begin to make her understand what real sacrifice meant. In her he saw an old priestess of his. Gisella had been a stoic woman who had long been a fixture in his faith in DaeLuin. That was, of course, until she had been murdered by her high priestess Euphoxia. Dimitre still thought about the elven woman. She and Draven had gotten along very well.

"There will always be more. But part of being with the shadows is having the courage to realize that the domestic normalcy is just a uniform. You can take it off and be who you feel you were meant to. In my old faith, there was a city called Minoc and many a noblewoman was no longer afraid to go to my cathedrals and bend a knee. Lords did not mind paying tithes so they could have the hands of my assassins." His smooth, long fingers lifted her face. She was a perfect elven beauty. Not too young to misunderstand her actions but also not too old. "But you should also understand your sacrifices were just you shedding your own inconveniences. If you wish to climb to power, you must help me increase that of my own. That is what I wish of you." One of his hands slipped to her neck and his thumb pressed against that delicious hot pulse at her throat.

"I will send you into towns and cities and you must spread my influence. You will, of course, report your progress to me, and often you will have a companion. An unattached woman in many places would signify something being off and we cannot have suspicion until it is too late. But for the first tenday, I want you here. I need to know of your abilities and you will be taught effectively what this faith means. You must learn my gospel and spread it forthwith. You must also learn about the shadow plane and the magic you will be able to pull from it."

He slowly withdrew from her and gestured for her to follow him.

"Tell me, before you heard of my arrival here, what was your life, Antiel?"

She listened with curiosity about the place of his old faith, and wished that she could see it.  The idea that women could simply be themselves was a revelation.  And it only served to affirm that Antiel had chosen the right path.  "And I will do as you wish," she said simply, feeling the hand at her throat.  Not pulling away was an act of submission, this was something that Antiel knew.  But she had chosen this, and there was a certain measure of her own power in offering that submission.  It was her gift to the Hunter.

The idea of traveling and spreading his word was a bright thought to the elvish woman, something that Antiel knew she would enjoy.  The idea of having a companion made her curious, and she was certain that he already had one in mind for her.  She nodded, and offered the first show of embarrassment.  "My abilities at the moment are limited… but my potential is not.  I was unable to seek a teacher for obvious reasons," she said, a slight flush at her cheeks.  She could enchant the shadows to move, and even shape them to some extent, but Antiel wanted to learn more.  There was a craving to learn more, to understand more.  And simply the ability to be able to do more.  "One place that refuses your rule is Endapano, but that is a goal for further down the road, I believe.  My people are stubborn, and require a subtle hand," she suggested.  The idea of bring a number of elves under the rule of the Hunter excited her, and Antiel was more than sure she was not the only one with an affinity for the shadows.

Following in silence for a moment, she gathered her thoughts.  What to tell?  "I was the only child of my parents, born late in their lives.  I was named a gift, and treated as such.  Some might have called me a spoiled child… I say that I was assertive and knew what I wanted," she said, a slight smile.  Whether or not her parents had realized it, they had made her what she was.  "They raised me, not to be a person in my own right, but to advance their own standing.  They taught me to be pretty, and to be a husband's pride.  I learned on my own to be myself.  I found myself married off when I was of age, to a man who was lazy and dull.  But wealthy," she said, annoyance in her voice.  Before she had found that book, her life had amounted to little. 

"I found the tome shortly before my marriage, and that gave me hope.  It gave me a reason to play their game, until I could put myself into a better position.  And once that was done, I cut those strings.  So here I am," she concluded.  Antiel's life had so far been of little note, but she wanted that to change.  And in the Hunter's hands, she was sure that it would.