Avarice Blacksteel

Nightmares made Truth

“Valefor is still effectively bound to his place of exile. That much is apparent.” Xonereth reported, as he paced in long strides about the bleak chamber, robes making a hissing sound as they glided across the highly polished stone. Sheharizade, her face obscured in her deep cowl nodded, but otherwise stood quite still.

“He has not changed my love. Not for the greater good of the Nethris anyways. Perhaps more bitter than ever, and revenge is in his heart. I should not have been so lenient, I am sorry for that now.”
“You did as you thought best my Lord, none here can fault you, it was a terrible choice to make. He is still imprisoned my Lord and therefore still ineffective.”

“Of that I am not so sure. Confined he may well be, however I saw things that made me question as to just how impotent he is?”
Sheharizade’s cowl shifted slightly, she was looking at her Lord quizzically from deep within. She knew her altered self bothered him and strove to hide from plain view.
“How so?” She dared ask.
“I saw an abomination. Something not of this world.”

“My Lord, as you well know all things that are in humans' hearts and fears simply inhabit our world and cross over made fabric by the humans themselves.”
“No, no, this was not one of those things Sheharizade.” Xonereth’s silken locks, shimmered as he shook his head. “ This my love was a thing of Valefor's imagination.”
“But that is strictly forbidden...” The demoness had put her bony hand in shock to her bosom.
“Nothing is forbidden to my brother.”

Sheharizade who did not have the impunity the other Nethris shared before her ruler, for such boldness had always been her way, crossed the floor to touch the red scarification still fresh on his white breast. Sometimes Xonereth found this trait endearing and at others it infuriated him, however never for long. “He could have killed you.” Her beautiful voice wavered.

“Yes...” Xonereth, allowed himself a rare but fleeting smile. “How can I fear death if I do not know what it is? Possibly it is only some kind of adventure.”
“Spoken like the bluest royalty.” Sheharizade purred.

“I should have gone to see him. Perhaps he would have been different before me?”
“I highly doubt it my love, he is drunk on hatred. Though he did speak of you.” Sheharizade did not answer, though Xonereth heard her gasp beneath the blackness of her cowl. “He desires you still, old hatreds run deep.”

“Let us not speak of what went before my Liege.”
“You are right my love let us not speak...” He touched her tenderly, and closed his all seeing eyes.