[ IP ] [ TT ] Dragon Fae

The castle was in ruins long before the Storm, before Queen Malvina hid her island kingdom behind a wall of wind and water, before she unleashed a spell that cursed her people with undeath and herself with immortality. She had never been there, the crumbling towers and moss covered stone unknown to her. She had never seen the black pools of water that covered courtyards or trees growing around the vestiges of habitation. It was like walking through a dying breath or a ghost's echo. It was almost comforting in regard. 
 
 She has come alone, her long dead steed tied off some distance aways, unnerved enough by the ruins to refuse to go farther into them. A wise precaution. 
 
 It was not build to withstand lengthy sieges and indeed appeared ill prepared for one at all. The walls were low, only thirty feet or so and lacking in crenellation or arrow slits. The towers were not built with flat roofs to hold siege weapons, but rather conical roofs of weathered copper and a myriad of windows on each, most of the glass long missing from their panes. But it well could have been considering where it was built, the low rolling thunder ever present in Malvina's ears. 
 
 If one was to climb one of the decaying towers they would be greeted with one of the most awe inspiring sights in all the Kingdom of Aran. The ruins of this particular castle were built on an island at the edge of a two hundred foot tall waterfall. Chosen for its scenic beauty, the castle played host to countless balls and was a favorite of her ancestors. It was with the Wars of the Dead and the end of Aran's Golden Age that the palace was abandoned and then soon forgotten, lost to time and memory. Only through the records and journals of her great-grandparents did Queen Malvina even discover it, making it the perfect place for what she was doing now. 
 
 She waits, the muffled roar of the falls a white noise against her reservations. There was a reason she's delayed this for so long, making every possible excuse against doing so. One she believed to be valid, fear. But yet here she was, seeking the advice from the very creature she despised most during her century of self-exile. 
 
 The flapping sound of rotten wings reaches her ears even over the din of the falls, their beats regular but unnatural unlike any bird alive. A second din approaches, quieter, but greater pitched than the deep notes of the falling waters, growing louder and higher with each second until the horizon to the North turns black. Queen Malvina turns in that direction her pale green eyes squinting at the dark shifting mass. It is no storm or cloud; it moves too fast and shifts about itself like quicksilver. It's as the dark mass eclipses the early afternoon sun does she recognize what it is as the swarm blacks out the sky. Millions of bats if not billions, all chirping and hissing, packed so tight that not a single ray of light reaches the ground, throwing the castle into night. Amid the swarm of fur and noise comes the thunderously loud flap of wings and earthshaking landing of something massive. Over the sound of the falls and teeming bats comes a voice dripping with insatiable hunger and malice. 
 
 *'' My dearest daughter, Malvina. It is good that you finally came to your senses. Long have I thirsted for this day. What may I teach you? `` * 
 

