The Fae kingdom is fading from human world and one Sidhe is adamant to stop it. Name: Tsuatha Deohn (aka Dark Elf King) Age: 800 + Appearance: He could feel a great age ending. It slipped between his long, pale fingers like grains of sand. With every passing decade the humans grew in numbers, while Fae’s magic weakened. Before Tuatha didn’t count days, only seasons. Summer and spring belonged to the light elves who rejoiced at the first signs of blossoming flowers. Autumn, followed by winter were his people’s domain. There was common misconception about winter - that it was a season of decay. Nothing further from truth, it just ended the great cycle of death and rebirth. For ages this balance existed, undisturbed. Then the humans came. A warmongering plague that didn’t want to live by mother’s nature laws. No, they wanted to break them, bend to their own will. When Tsuatha travelled away from the dark forest and caverns his brethren dwelled in, he saw it all: burned woods, butchered villagers, lawless scum roaming the lands. His elf spies who lived among humans told their king about it, but Tsuatha only now realised how deeply the human corruption ran For nearly a decade now Tsuatha roamed the human lands. Not out of curiosity or ,gods forbid, pleasure, but necessity. Ever elves sensed that soon they would have to move on and leave this world. Maybe even fade into oblivion. Their time was coming to an end, whether by the cruel twist of fate or random shift in the nature’s endless song. The light elves accepted it with peace, which divided the two courts more than ever before. The Summer Fae playfully teased mortals, adamant on seizing the day while it lasted. The dark elf king loathed it. He was a proud, arrogant creature who despised giving this world to the mortal scourge. Chances of succeeding were small, but at this point Tsuatha had nothing to lose. Farther south, deep within human lands, in their bulky, graceless city as hidden an artefact his people had left behind. Long before the father of his father had been born. For mortals it was useless. A pleasant looking trinket and nothing more. Typical, for humans, too engrossed in counting round lumps of gold to appreciate a true treasure. It was like throwing pearls in front of the pigs. The carriage was nearly at the edge of the forest where the dark elf king concealed himself. He had followed the group of days now, learning their habits and observing the guards. They behaved like trained warriors, formidable and disciplined. Despite his own, deep prejudice, Tsuatha couldn’t help but appreciate them. The mortal warriors would never hold a candle to a group of elegant elves, but their frail bodies could achieve more than one could expect. There were more than dozen of them; a lone elf so far away from home might lose this skirmish. This was a bitter pill to swallow. Tsuatha valued patience over impulsive acts and stalking the group became a simple routine. Mortals were easy to fool: their attention span was short, their eye sight poor and hearing impaired in comparison to Fae. The warriors guarded a key to his people’s salvation. At least a part of it. She was young and attractive - possessed this vulgar, human beauty some of his people whispered about among themselves. A daughter and heiress to a powerful name in human lands, but mortal titles meant little to the elf king. LutGholain, a desert’s jewel, as natives called it, was a place where no Fae, dark or light had yet visited. So far into South Tsuatha’s royal powers would be almost no existent. Simple tricks, glamour, but nothing that let him take the artifact by force. He needed a plan and this girl was the vital part of it. As much as he hated to admit it, the elf king needed the simple, human female to fulfil this sacred mission. The carriage came to a halt, but for him it was time to act. He stalked toward the group, still hidden among the thick shrubbery and wrapped in magic. The blunt attack could end his life, even if the humans had no iron, even a Fae king couldn’t survive a decapitation. The woman had to be lured deeper into the woods. Tsuatha crouched near the carriage. It pained him to leave his exquisite amor back home, but it would have never let him move among humans freely. The elf king had still his sword - beautiful and deadly. Forged by the best Fae smiths, from metals mortals didn’t have names for. The blade came with a dagger, cut in the similar fashion. Both slightly curved and double edged. As the humans busied themselves with making a simple camp, the elf king watched them and waited. Dark magic was gathering around his tall, lithe frame - coiled like a snake. The mortals might feel shudders of cold, uneasiness, unexplainable discomfort. Or they might remain oblivious to what was happening around them.