Nefarah silently seethed as she sat on her black throne, glaring at nothing as her mind ran over her unsuccessful attempt to destroy her latest enemies. This was all too much. They were escaping every trap she laid, and defeating every monster she put in front of them. Of course, they had yet to really kill her wonderful pets, but were fully capable of escaping them; badly wounded but still breathing.
Her anger flared as she remembered the sight of her brother through her bowl. She wanted nothing more than to do away with him for good. He was the reason for her exile, he was the reason she was not queen of Florian. Her hatred was not only directed to her brother, but to that damned boy she had yet to see clearly as well. He was winning Taehyung's heart. The Fairy King was hers and she would be damned if she lost him again.
"If I have anything to do with it, I'll have Taehyung as mine and this boy as good as dead."
She needed help. Her beautiful pets just weren't enough and she was growing impatient with Rama. Someone had to be much more useful than he was.
"But who?", she asked aloud, rising from her throne.
She began to pace the throne room in deep thought, going over various names in her head. Many she knew would never lift a finger to help her and she quickly crossed them off her mental list. Then it dawned on her and she stopped pacing to face a large mirror. She rushed over to it, her black dress trailing behind her and she studied herself quickly. Her hair, now in curls, fell about her and her dress fit her perfectly. Though nothing was wrong she continued to preen herself until she was satisfied. She wanted to make a good impression with her guest. Finally, she stood ready to do what had to be done.
"I call to the Dark Lands. May my cries reach the ears of the one I seek.", she chanted into the mirror, watching it begin to ripple, "Bring him forth to me. Bring forth your darkest soul, your Angel of Destruction."
"And what price would you pay in return for his deeds?"
At the sound of a familiar voice, Nefarah spun around to find a black-winged man standing before her and she squealed with glee. He came before she could finish asking for him. That meant he was willing to spill blood and she would be more than happy to provide him with his victims. Cold dark eyes watched as she moved forward before running over the woman's body.
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"Tarith."
The single word echoed throughout the large room and the man bowed to her in respect.
"I am at your service, Lady Elf.", he told her, stepping forward, "Your wish is my command."
Now face-to-face with him, Nefarah gave a small chuckle making sure to press her body close to his.
"And which wish do you want to grant first?", she asked, wrapping her arms around his bare shoulders.
Her fingers petted the black feathers as Tarith pulled her closer to him, his eyes staring down hungrily at her.
"Centuries in the Dark Lands have not fared me well.", he told her with a smirk, "I believe I shall take the chance to experience the pleasure of a woman. That I have missed more than my lust for blood."
